Chapter 5 Drew
DREW
I freeze when my old academic rival and head cheerleader—the girl who made my life hell when it was already falling apart—greets me.
I feel Adam’s hand at my back, the light pressure reassuring yet incriminating.
But honestly, I am in no mood to be targeted by the actual little miss perfect. The one my parents always strived for me to be.
Too bad I wasn’t valedictorian.
That was Amy Green.
She was also Prom Queen. President of the debate team. Captain of the swim team.
Lucky for me, she cheered instead of playing soccer and had the debate championship during softball.
She left me the literary awards but took everything in STEM.
And she was popular. Me…not so much. Apparently, the perfect princess intimidated others. Or made me boring. Whichever it was, I didn’t have many friends.
In fact, it was mostly Gabe and my sister Daisy.
Which meant lonely lunches at school. My teammates weren’t bad, but none of them were the close confidants I saw other people had.
“You’re here to ruin some new unsuspecting man’s reputation? Guess even Pinebrook’s perfect little princess can’t keep her crown forever.”
Adam turns us to face the beautiful, sleek blonde. There’s a flash of envy in her green eyes, then regret hits her.
“Hello, Miss Green. That wasn’t very nice.”
Her face immediately pales, and I try not to revel in it. “Mr. Lancaster, I didn’t know that was you.”
“Obviously.” He lets her stew, and so do I.
This is the only time I’ve had a real one-up on her.
And I’m a terrible, terrible person because I am loving the hesitation, the way her mouth works but no words come out.
I should feel bad about this, but I have some idea of the snide shit she was about to lay me out with. I imagine it’s probably better than the string of gossip she spread about me after prom.
Adam’s fingers twitch at my lower back.
Why is he standing up for me? “Off you go to do something far more productive. Yes?”
“Yes. Um, yes, sir.”
She glares at me but prances off quickly.
“Did you steal her boyfriend in high school or something?”
“Or something.”
I take another bite of my burrito. It’s far tastier than I want to admit to Adam, especially since he ordered for me instead of asking what I wanted.
I certainly don’t want him to know how much I liked that he took the chance. God, my priorities are messed up. Adam Lancaster is probably two decades older than me. Give or take. And the confidence, the swagger, the experience…
It makes the way he’s looking at me all the more intense. More telling.
And I like it.
I shouldn’t though. Older men have been the pinnacle of my every bad decision. I’m not prepared for whatever he’s got up his sleeve.
“Something to do with you evolving from being the perfect princess to a healthy and normal young woman?”
Did he really just say that? Does he really not know already?
I snort, biting into my burrito again. I maintain eye contact, and he doesn’t back down. In fact, it almost looks like he inflates with a little puff of his chest.
I wipe sauce from the corner of my mouth, watching him follow the movement. And he smirks.
I swear he might burn something down with the heat he’s slinging my way as my thumb dips between my lips. This is not safe. Not good.
However…
The heat that floods me is not normal. God, I am so messed up.
“I’m not sure healthy is accurate, but more normal than the people here think is acceptable.”
It doesn’t take me long to finish my treat, and we’re moving again.
Finally, he’s shifted his attention from studying me. More people are on the street as they move around for lunch.
Adam’s sending serious looks at people as they watch us. Has he not heard the story? Or stories as it were? Who knows how many versions are floating around at this point.
Or maybe he has heard, and that’s why he’s hovering. He’s my type after all.
Even the crinkling lines around his eyes when he smirks at me is sexy.
His directness is even hotter. He hasn’t backed away from one of my stare downs so far.
Adam Lancaster is not a shy or timid man. I should feel fully inadequate next to him, but I don’t.
After another sharp look at two older ladies whispering to each other and pointing at me with their canes, Adam clears his throat loudly, and they hurry off. “So far, I don’t find anything unacceptable about you.”
A renewed heat fills my cheeks. No one’s been bold enough to openly defend me.
Believe me, maybe. But not defend me to others.
Plus the constant contact…his hand has found a permanent spot along my spine as if he’s afraid I’m going to turn tail and run.
To be fair, that is my M.O.
“I feel like you’ve had too much time to perfect your smooth talk.”
Somehow, we’re on the sidewalk in front of my house, and he pauses. Does he know enough to know where I live or was it me who led us here and slowed us to a stop?
“Is that your way of calling me old?”
I turn toward him, trying not to notice the silver bleeding through the sides of his short, black hair and how it amplifies his rugged good looks.
A big, solid man in a nice but simple suit and jacket. He’s older than Nick was, and his steady gaze was the exact opposite of how that slimy shit looked at me.
Nick never could look at me fully. Even when we were alone. And I’d thought it was exciting to catch him looking. Or maybe, he’d caught me.
Oh, how stupid I’d been.
I look into his green eyes again, and he raises a brow, like he’s caught me looking. Well, he should be used to people sizing him up.
I cross my arms as a barrier between us, because I certainly need one. “Do you really need an event coordinator?”
“I do.”
Why do I feel like that’s not the whole story? Perhaps it’s the calculation in his gaze, like he’s long since sized me up and is putting a plan into play.
Silence spreads between us, and it doesn’t seem to bother him one bit.
I’ve lived most of my life silently communicating with Gabe. This is nothing.
“See you bright and early. Seven a.m. The Lodge lobby.” The words hang for a second before he smiles at me and backs away.
It takes him half a dozen steps to turn away and head back the way he came.
I watch him go until he’s at the end of the block and looking over his shoulder at me.
What the hell just happened? Why do I have this unsettled excitement swimming around my center at the thought of not only getting out of the bakery but doing something I enjoy…with that man?
“Speed Demon Drew, why are you standing out in the cold?” Greyson calls from his front door, leaning easy and unbothered like he doesn’t want me to know he’d seen me with Adam. “Get in here, and I’ll make you some cocoa.”