Chapter 8
ADAM
My history of arguing with AJ was a storied one.
We essentially bickered for sport, going back and forth often, over things we cared passionately about and things we didn’t care about at all.
The topic of discussion was never actually the point.
The point was just to win, so I blamed this mildly screwed-up aspect of our relationship for what I couldn’t stop thinking about right now, which was proving her wrong.
Specifically by draping her legs over my shoulders and making her come in twenty seconds flat.
“Christ, Adam. Stop,” Iain said, prompting me to blink hard and frown defensively, trying immediately to act like I didn’t completely forget I had him on the phone.
“Stop what?”
“Thinking about fucking her.”
“What makes you think I was—”
“You muttered ‘fuck’ under your breath in a way that was half-groan and frankly very disturbing for me to listen to,” Iain said, making me break into a shit-eating grin as the car pulled onto the highway. “Also I asked you a question about ten seconds ago and you still haven’t answered it.”
“Sorry. I was thinking about fucking her.”
“I know.”
“In my defense, it’s only because we’re pretending explicitly like I fucked her,” I said as Iain made a vaguely dubious sound. “But anyway, what’s your question?”
“Where is she right now?”
“The hotel. She headed back way before me while I hung back to talk to Craig.”
“Do you know what her plans are for the night?”
“Well, she’s probably getting ready right now.”
“For what?”
“The fundraiser.”
Iain paused. “You mean Engelman’s big ass party that your whole company gets hammered at every year?”
I laughed, feeling like this was a trap. “Yeah. Why?”
“Nothing,” Iain said wryly. “Just sounds like a perfectly safe environment for you and AJ, given everything you just told me about last night.”
I grimaced as I reclined in the backseat of the car. “Yeah, speaking of all that shit, don’t tell Holland, alright?”
“Asshole—how about you don’t do this to me since you know I can’t keep things from her.”
“To be fair, this isn’t necessarily a ‘thing.’ It’s a fluke that I’ll get over, so there’s no sense in worrying Holland when I can assure you I’m not going to do anything to jeopardize my work relationship with AJ.”
“Yeah,” Iain said flatly, with that tinge of disinterest he employed whenever he wanted to convey that he did not in fact believe me. I snorted.
“Look, no need to guilt me like I’m one of your clients. I’m not going to do anything to screw things up. I’m well aware of what AJ’s done for my life,” I said, though I knew I sounded somewhat like a surly kid, because I kind of hated this topic.
Not because I wasn’t grateful for AJ, but because I hated thinking about how non-existent my relationship with Holland was before AJ came along.
“Alright, I’m going to choose to believe you then,” Iain relented. “But for your sake, I hope she wears something as ill-fitting and unattractive as possible tonight.”
I laughed at the remark, but by the time I got back to the hotel, I was thinking about it again—mostly because I was realizing that AJ hadn’t originally planned to attend Engelman’s fundraiser tonight.
She had expected to be with Caspar, so in all likelihood, she hadn’t packed anything to wear to this party.
I wasn’t exactly sure what this realization meant, but it definitely had me walking a little faster down the hall as I approached the door of my room.
When I got in, my eyes went straight toward the closed door of the bathroom. I closed the door slowly as I called, “Hey.”
I heard the distinct rustle of makeup brushes before she called back.
“Hey! Do you need the bathroom? I’m done in here.”
I eyed her open suitcase as I set my things down. “Take your time,” I said, drifting over to the bar to grab some water. “All I really need to do is—”
My sentence cut off as the bathroom door swung open, and wherever the rest of my words fucked off to I couldn’t say.
Because all I could do was stare.
Fuck. Me.
Whatever she was wearing, it was black, sleeveless, and wrapped so tight around her body I couldn’t blink if I tried.
Her long, dark hair was down and gathered over her shoulder to show off the curve of her neck as she fastened her bracelet, and when she looked up at me, my pulse picked up at the sight of her smoky eye makeup. Her creamy lipstick.
One look at those lips and my blood went hot. Some lonely corner of my brain was telling me to relax, but it was way too late.
“Jesus fuck, AJ. What the hell are you doing?”
AJ
It was pointless to act dumb, but I did it anyway.
“What?” I asked with convincing nonchalance. Impressive, considering the way Adam was raking his stare all over me right now, leaving a trail of heat over every inch of my bare skin he dragged his eyes across.
“You’re going to act like this is how you normally dress for a work function?” he asked as I walked out of the bathroom.
“Well, obviously not, but I didn’t initially plan on going to this party and all I packed were date-night dresses and lingerie,” I said, fastening the backs of my earrings.
“So it was between this and the slutty maid costume, and for some reason I just thought this would be a little more appropriate.”
Adam’s eyebrows were still deeply knit as he looked at me, but I could see the reluctant interest twinkle in his eyes till he cracked a grin. “You have a slutty maid costume?”
I smirked. “Just pretend you didn’t hear that part.”
“Might take a minute.”
I rolled my eyes as I headed to the table, one hand braced on the table as I leaned over to ease myself into my heels—which was, unsurprisingly, kind of difficult with the heat of Adam’s unabashed stare on my backside.
Things still felt grey this morning, but it was like we just went from zero to sixty. Boundaries: Annihilated.
“Are you really checking me out that blatantly right now?” I finally called him out. But he didn’t exactly back down.
“Pretty hard not to when you’re bending over in a dress that looks like it’s going to explode off your body like a fucking rubber band.”
“Oh, and you’re slut shaming my outfit now?” Standing up straight again, I cocked an eyebrow at Adam, feeling a strange little thrill course through my veins when I caught the single tic in his jaw.
“Trust me. I’m a fan of the outfit,” he said tightly. “But it’s telling me something’s going on with you right now, because you normally want the opposite of this.”
“‘This’ being what?” I asked.
“Eyes,” he said, annoyed. “On you. Particularly at work. ‘I don’t wan’t to give them anything to talk about.’ That’s been your line for years.”
“Well, like I said, this is all I’ve got,” I said, my heels click-clacking as I went back to the bathroom to grab my lipstick.
“And I figure if I’m wearing it, I might as well make it look good,” I shrugged, grabbing my clutch off the TV stand and not even having to look at Adam to know he didn’t buy it.
We both knew that he didn’t, but we were going to leave it at that.
At least I thought we were.
But as I opened up my clutch to drop my lipstick inside, Adam stopped me.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold up.”
My eyes fluttered wide as he came bounding toward me in three long strides. “What?” I asked, stunned as I closed my clutch—but it wasn’t quick enough, apparently, because Adam hit me with a don’t bullshit me look.
“Open it back up,” he said.
And for the next five seconds, we stared at each other, engaged in a heated standoff that ended with me heaving a sigh and just opening my damned clutch, which contained exactly three things. My phone and credit cards, my lipstick.
And my toothbrush.
Adam looked at me, incredulous.
“You expect to be sleeping somewhere else tonight?” he questioned.
My mouth parted a few times before I settled on my reply. “I figured just in case,” I said with a nonchalance that clearly didn’t work this time, because Adam stared at me, his blue eyes searching me with unveiled irritation.
“What the hell is going on right now, AJ?” he asked.
“What are you talking about?”
“You’re not acting like yourself.”
I forced a laugh. “Is that surprising? I mean I did have a bit of a life-altering day yesterday.”
“Well, should we talk about that?”
“Why would we?”
“Because you’re being rash for once,” he said heatedly. “You’re making decisions you wouldn’t normally make. And I don’t know if I’m supposed to be worried.”
He stood close to me now, his stare on me intense, relentless. Threatening to break me. But I refused to let it, so tipping my chin up, I met his eyes with confidence. “How did I do at the presentation today?” I asked.
“Good. Why are we talking about this?” he answered straightaway.
I stood up as straight as I could. “Because if I did fine there, Adam, that’s all you need to worry about. As long as I’m showing up to work on time and doing my job well, you shouldn’t have anything to say. Right?”
I’d verbally trapped him. We were technically just boss and assistant and as tight as we were, we’d never actually referred to each other as friends. According to the unspoken rules of our very-close-but-only-because-of-work relationship, that would be weird.
That was at least how I felt about it.
And I suspected Adam felt the same, because with a single clench of his jaw, he stepped back.
“Guess so,” he finally said.
And though he sounded mostly like he meant it, his eyes said something else entirely. They were hard, steely. They took several moments to move away from me and hours later, the intensity of that stare still burned in my mind, making my breath feel suddenly short, and my dress suddenly too tight.
Annoying, but I told myself it was good motivation, because that was the whole point of tonight—shifting my focus to someone else.
And getting Adam Maxwell the hell out of my head.