Chapter 13
W e drive silently in his Porsche back to the cottage. My mind is swirling about the situation I got him involved in and how his reaction was so fucking over the top. But now it’s my fault, and he knows I know who he is. That makes me look shady, and this is all so fucked.
As we pull into the driveway, I start crying, unable to find the words to make this right. Why do I attract violent men? Sorin shouldn’t have grabbed me like that, but why did Adam punch him?
“Let me look at you,” he says softly. I try to stop crying as he cups my face with his hands. “You deserve a man who can give you everything.”
This is so not the time for this kind of speech.
“You deserve to always feel safe,” he continues, his eyes piercing into mine. “From what little I know, it sounds like he’s in the past. Promise me you’ll never, ever let a guy like that in again.”
I stare at him, bewildered. What is this bullshit speech?
“You just punched a guy, and now you’re telling me to stay away from men who are bad for me?” I challenge. “Tell me how that makes any sense.”
He sighs, looking ahead. “I have all these strong feelings for you. I know this was supposed to be simple—two people having a good time—but I want to protect you.” Adam pauses, his face thoughtful and sincere. “I want to cherish you, and I want to know you. The whole you.”
He moves his hand to mine, which is resting in my lap.
“I’m starting to fall for you, and I barely know anything about you.” He pauses and sighs. “I could’ve killed that guy for you, and I don’t even know your last name.”
He could’ve killed for me? My mind races; I might have a heart attack from how fast my heart is beating. Part of me wants to get out of the car, end this fuckbuddy flirtation, and be done with him. But he’s falling for me?
“Sommer,” I whisper. “That’s my last name.”
He smiles.
I’m not used to this kind of sincere, direct outpouring of emotion. How can this man be falling for me?
“That’s where I’m at,” Adam says after I don’t respond. “It’s crazy, I know. I can’t quite explain it.”
I use humor to deflect the seriousness of the moment.
“There’s this phrase … it’s called being pussy whipped.” An embarrassed smile spreads across my face. “I think that’s the description you’re looking for.”
I can be such an ass sometimes. I hide my face behind my hands as my internal dialogue rages. This man poured his heart out to me and punched a guy for me, and all I have to add is that he’s pussy whipped.
“Adam, I did google you when I got home last night. I saw your credit card out yesterday and noted your last name. When I found out about your company, I was actually sad.” He gives me a confused look.
“I was sad because I knew I’d have to tell you something.
And since we’re putting all our cards on the table, here it is. ”
I take a deep breath.
“Your company lost three million dollars on an investment in a business where I was the chief marketing officer.”
He looks at me, bemused.