Chapter Nine
W hat’s with the resting bitch face?”
I’m in front of the romance shelf pulling books from the hold list about an hour into work the next day but jerk back and face Gabe, who’s reorganizing the March Madness display by the window. “What are you talking about?”
Gabe waves a hand in front of my face. “You look like you’re auditioning for a role of sucking lemons.”
I sigh and tell him about the conversation I overheard between Adam and Marcia the night before.
“While Marcia was all, ‘You’re a godsend, Sabrina,’ and practically bringing me to tears with her gratitude, his gut reaction was that I might be trying to steal from her.
” Exhausted from tossing and turning all night, I scrub a hand over my eyes.
I can’t even pinpoint what upsets me the most. It stings because I thought Adam and I were bonding.
I like him and genuinely thought the feeling was mutual, but now I know we’re on vastly different wavelengths.
And then there’s the anger. Where has he been for the last ten years to now show up, a virtual stranger himself, and warn Marcia against me ?
For all I know, he’s the one after her money.
He was sleeping when I showered this morning and in the bathroom when I left for work. A blessing because I don’t know how to act around him now. “It was just so unexpected because we’d been bonding earlier that night.”
Gabe’s eyebrows shoot up. “Bonding how ?”
Heat whips across my cheeks as I remember our questionably flirtatious banter about my type. “All PG.”
Gabe chuckles before switching the positions of Long Shot and Sooley on the display. “I was worried something like this would happen when he moved in, but I didn’t want to say anything.”
I address the second half of his sentence first with an eye roll. “You didn’t want to say anything? You?” This has never been Gabe’s problem.
He flashes a devilish grin.
“And what do you mean by ‘something like this’?”
His face turns serious. “It all sounded too good to be true. Adam goes to live with his grandmother, becomes besties with her twentysomething roommate, and the three of you live happily ever after?” He shrugs.
“Maybe in one of those cheesy made-for-TV movies, but in real life, you and Adam would either want to bang it out or he’d be threatened by you. In this case, both happen to be true.”
“No comment on the banging-it-out part, but why would he be threatened by me?” I pull Before I Let Go off the shelf and toss it in the cart with more force than is required.
Gabe gives me a pointed look. “You’re a threat to his relationship with Marcia and his bed.
” My confusion must be obvious because he sighs.
“Imagine if your grandma invited you to move into her luxury apartment building rent-free, and you thought you had it made except there’s already someone in the guest bedroom, a surrogate granddaughter, while you’re stuck on the couch. ”
“Someone who is paying rent!” I ignore the surrogate granddaughter part of his hypothetical, not needing yet another reason to be sad this morning.
“Exactly. And the good news is, she can’t terminate your lease without cause. You could take her to court if she tried.”
My mouth drops open. Before getting his MLIS, Gabe went to law school for a year, something he drops into conversation two or three times a month—except I don’t need his legal advice.
“Who said anything about terminating my lease? You’re getting carried away.
” I almost wish I hadn’t said anything. Gabe loves drama.
“Marcia knows I’m trustworthy, and she told him so. ”
He shrugs. “I’m just saying, you should watch your back. If Adam really wants you out, he can try to trap you into breaching the contract… frame you for illegal activity. Plant drugs in your room.”
“Stop it! You’re watching too much Law and Order !” When an older woman playing solitaire on one of the public computers turns around, I remember where I am and lower my voice to a whisper. “You’re ridiculous. Plant drugs in my room . Ha!”
“Laugh all you want, but who are you to assume the lengths the man will go to get a good night’s sleep?”
I snort. “He sleeps just fine.” A vision of Adam crashed out on the couch with his mouth slightly open all cuddly with Rocket springs to mind, but I push it aside. I slouch against the bookshelf. “What should I do?”
“You gotta let him know you’re not going anywhere.” He wiggles a finger in my face. “But don’t show any sign of weakness. If he smells fear, he’ll pounce.”
“He’s not a wild animal.” I press two fingers to my now pounding temples.
Even though I doubt Adam will pounce or try to get me thrown out, we should probably get his concerns out in the open.
I don’t delight in confrontation, something I blame on being the younger child with a headstrong older sibling who was always right…
kind of like Gabe… and a mom who was too busy working overtime to intervene.
But I can’t live with all this tension indefinitely.
Gabe returns to his desk and I continue pulling books, but I can’t focus.
While organizing the DVD shelves in the young adult section later that afternoon, I imagine what a confrontation with Adam would look like.
Will he try to deny it? Will he double down and accuse me to my face?
Or will he apologize for doubting my character?
If the last one, I would forgive him. He’s being protective of his grandma, which I can appreciate.
But if he doesn’t back down, I’ll be forced to defend myself.
It could turn into a full-blown fight, which would upset Marcia.
She was so afraid of how I’d react about Adam coming to stay with us.
It would kill her to know I’d overheard their conversation and lost sleep over it, especially since she already set him straight.
For her sake, I should just let it go and not say anything.
Except I’m not sure I can.
My phone pings with a text from Carley.
Carley: Can I come over tonight and meet the grandson?
I smile softly. Carley isn’t an actual psychic, but she can read my mind sometimes. It’s both irritating and comforting. Right now, it’s comforting. I’ve kept her in the loop about Adam since the very beginning but haven’t had a chance to share the latest yet.
Sabrina: I have class tonight after work but you can come by after 8. Something happened and I could really use your advice. It’s too long to text
Carley :
I’ve tried to keep my pesky attraction to Adam on the DL, but clearly I’m failing miserably. This is where the mind reading shifts to irritating.
Sabrina: Nothing like that!
Carley:
I breathe out a laugh.
Sabrina: I’ll see you later
She hearts my text, and I tuck my phone into the pocket of my jeans and get back to the business of organizing DVDs.
After work and school that night, I stop by the mail room in the lobby on my way to the elevator.
I’m leafing through the unusually large stack when I freeze.
Among junk mail for Marcia Haber and Sabrina Finkelstein is a bank statement from Chase for Adam Haber.
Further thumbing reveals a Visa bill also addressed to Adam at our address.
I’m shook by this… so much so that I stand unmoving in the middle of the mail room clutching today’s letters, only semi-aware of the strange looks several neighbors are throwing my way as they weave around me to retrieve their own mail.
It’s just… I didn’t realize Adam would be staying here long enough to forward his mail.
Also, I don’t know anyone under the age of forty who doesn’t do paperless billing.
Even Marcia is almost exclusively online, now that I’ve helped set her up.
The only reason we even check the snail mail on a regular basis is because our mail slot is tiny relative to the amount of junk mail we receive.
Twenty-five-year-old Adam is more of a boomer than Marcia!
When someone accidentally brushes my side on her way past me, I finally spur my body back into motion and head to the elevator.
The door is closing when I approach, but I stick my hand inside to stop it.
Upon entry, I utter an apology to the other riders with my head down.
I’m not aggressive by nature, but there are only two elevators in the building, not including the freight.
If you miss one, it could be a while before the next one arrives.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Some people are so pushy.”
I lift my head at the familiar voice and meet Adam’s teasing smile.
Wearing his black windbreaker, open at the front to reveal the top of a dark gray T-shirt, and dark jeans, he’s the only other person in the elevator.
My temperature rises. “Hu… hi.” How is he acting so normal—joking around with me like we’re best friends today after warning Marcia not to trust me last night?
The nerve of him flashing his Harry Styles dimples.
I shrug halfheartedly. “These are for you,” I say, handing him his mail.
“Thank you, Sabrina.” He takes it from my hands and, without a second glance, shoves it into the black tote bag from the Strand draped over his shoulder.
“No problem.” I stare straight ahead at the elevator buttons, rubbing my palm to smooth out the zap of electricity from our brief skin-on-skin contact. “You know, you can save a lot of money on stamps if you pay your bills online.”
“Maybe I’m a stamp collector.”
I give him a side glance. “Are you?”
His lips quirk. “No. I just have the basic Forever stamp twenty pack.”
“I can get you set up if you want… like I did with Marcia,” I say on a whim. The door opens to our floor and I rush out first, surprised by my own boldness.
We walk down the hall in the direction of Rocket’s barking. Ignoring my offer, Adam says, “Do you think he knows we’re home, or does he bark whenever the elevator opens on our floor?”