And he’d done a more than adequate job with the cooking. So the bacon edges were a bit black. They’d still taste delicious. Apparently, Adam was serious about showing me that he’d changed. Didn’t mean I was any closer to taking another risk on or with him. What a crazy notion. I mean, we’d hit the wall so badly. Our breakup had been loud and angry and heart-rending. And the thought of going back there…
“Coffee,” he stated, placing the steaming mug in front of me.
“Thank you. You’re dressed up,” I said, nodding to his pale blue button-down shirt. It was the only concession to formality, but for him, it was a notable one. His usual jeans and boots graced his lower half. His long hair had even been neatly tied back out of his gorgeous face.
“Ah, yeah.” He gathered up the dirty fry pan and so on, loading up a sleek dishwasher. “Here’s the thing. In all of the excitement, I forgot that Ev and Dave were throwing me a going-on-tour party today in their apartment upstairs. You’d be more than welcome, and I’d love for you to meet them. Will you come with me? Please?”
Ruh-roh. I took another sip of coffee. “More famous people?”
“More nice, down-to-earth people who’d love to meet you.”
“More people who’ve heard those songs about me. Though everyone’s heard those songs about me. But these people know you and they know…you know.”
He raised his brows and took a deep breath. “Jill. Listen to me. You’re overthinking this. Back in the day, Dave wrote a whole album about how Martha slept with his brother and broke his heart and then caused trouble with his new wife. It doesn’t matter. They’re all friends now and get along fine. They’d be the last damn people to make you feel weird about being in my songs.”
“Even if the lyrics are wrong.”
“I was angry at the time. We already discussed this.”
“Being your muse has its downside. That’s all I’m going to say about the matter,” I said. “So that’s what Martha was talking about? That album was about her? Wow.”
The doorbell rang, and he wiped his hands on a cloth before heading over to answer it. Him making me breakfast and us hanging out in his apartment was a strangely domestic scene. I wanted to feel easy. To be relaxed. Despite the matter of me going on tour not having been raised again, it remained at the forefront of my mind. Also, we were getting along so well it was scary.
To be honest, I kept waiting for something to go wrong. For everything to go wrong.
Adam returned carrying multiple shopping bags bearing the labels of high-end boutiques. “Like I was saying, they keep things casual. But Martha thought you’d like something n
ice to wear. She got a local place to send some things over so you wouldn’t feel the need to rush home to change or whatever. Sound good?”
“I feel like you’re trying to buy my affection.”
“Bullshit.” He placed the bags on the counter. “If I was doing that, you’d already love me again because of the check. In all honesty, it’d be much easier. But here I am, wooing you.”
“You’re wooing me?” I asked with a smile.
“Me and Martha, apparently. We clearly have a Cyrano de Bergerac thing going on. What has she sent over?” He pulled out a black wool bodycon-style dress with long almost modest Chantilly lace sleeves.
I squealed in untold delight, pushing the remains of my breakfast aside. “That’s new season Valentino. Give it to me.”
The man did as told.
“What else is there?”
He opened a box, pushing aside numerous layers of tissue paper. “Army boots?”
“Louboutin Combat Booties. Oh, look at them, they’re beautiful.” I clicked my fingers. “Gimme.”
“Why didn’t I think of this? I should have thought of this,” he mumbled. “It hasn’t even occurred to you to try and shove this back in my face like you did with the check.”
“They’re so shiny.”
“Ah…underwear, stockings, shit like that.” He reported on the contents of another bag. “This one is jeans and a fluffy sweater.”
“Fluffy? You mean cashmere. How lovely.” I happy sighed. “It’s just like Christmas but better. Your manager has amazing taste.”
“Glad you approve. This one has makeup and some jewelry boxes.”
“Great,” I said. “You wear that battered old black leather jacket over your shirt and I’ll wear the dress and boots and we’ll look amazing. Trust me.”