“Yeah. He congratulated me by giving me a permanent contract. ”
I laughed. That was so Braden.
Adam had gotten his practical experience to complete his qualification by working alongside Braden’s architect. This last year, however, he’d been doing the work himself and having now achieved all the qualifications and experience he required, he’d applied to ARB (Architects Registration Board UK).
“I’m really happy for you. ”
“I know. That’s why I’d much rather be here with you than with Megan. ”
“Meagan,” I corrected.
“Whatever,” Adam muttered.
Our drinks came and I asked him about the project he and Braden were working on now.
Adam then asked about my classes. I had chosen to study History of Art and Fine Art with grand hopes of becoming a gallery curator one day, but now that I was in the course, at the university, I was falling in love with the idea of a career in academia. Clark, who was a professor of classical history at the university, was extremely proud and excited that I wanted to follow in his footsteps. When I told Braden I was thinking of doing a phD in Art History he’d given me Adam’s “are you daft?” look, but then kissed me on the forehead and told me to do whatever made me happy.
The night seemed to speed away from us and before I knew it I was on my third mojito and snuggled much deeper into Adam’s side, laughing as he regaled me with his and Braden’s antics at work and elsewhere.
To the outside world the two of them were extremely mature young men in their mid- twenties.
I knew better.
I wiped tears of laughter from my eyes and reached for another sip of my drink. “You two are idiots. ”
“Ssh, that’s a secret. ”
I grinned back at him and the smile he gave me suddenly froze.
“What?” I breathed, my heart stopping.
He swallowed and shook his head. “I just sometimes wonder where the time has gone. ”
“I know. We’re all grown up now,” I teased.
His eyes searched my face, his expression enigmatic. “Yes, we are,” he murmured and something about the way he said it made the air between us grow suddenly charged. I swore I stopped breathing altogether. His eyes were dark and focused and I felt the heat of his look slide sensually down the center of my body. Nervously, I licked my lips and his gaze dropped to my mouth.
My gaze dropped to his.
I don’t know which one of us moved. Me to him, or him to me? Both of us moved?
Whichever one of us it was, our faces were so close our lips were almost brushing. I could feel his breath on mine and he obviously could feel mine on his. The smell of Macallan and Adam played chaos with my hormones. My chest began to rise and fall with excited nerves and hopeful anticipation.
I moved my head that little bit closer and our lips brushed. Infinitesimally. Still, that slightest touch sent a bolt of lust straight through me.
Adam made a sound in the back of his throat and I swore he was about to close the distance between us… …but I’d never know for sure. His phone rang in his jacket pocket throwing a bucket of ice cold water over the moment. I jerked back and watched his face cloud over as he realized what had almost happened. Jaw
clenched, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone but it had already stopped ringing. He lifted his eyes to me and told me darkly, “Braden. ”
I guessed he meant that Braden had been the one who’d called him, but I also guessed it had a double meaning. I knew I was right when he quickly paid for our drinks and put me in a taxi, abruptly ending our night together.
I was Ellie, Braden’s little sister. To Adam I would always be Braden’s little sister, and that meant I was off limits.
When I laid in bed that night I cursed Adam Sutherland to hell and back. If he hadn’t already ruined things for me before, he definitely had after tonight.
A lip brush.
One tiny lip brush and I felt that spark I’d been waiting on since I was fifteen and I kissed Pete Robertson on bowling night. Whatever guy came next had a lot to live up to.
Chapter 5
“I was freaking out,” Adam admitted. He threw me a wicked smile. “I’ve never been so hard in my life from a lip brush. I wanted to fuck you every time I saw you after that. ”
I shoved him playfully, blushing. Adam was often deliberately crude because he knew it made me equal parts embarrassed and turned on. I’d always hated when people used the “f- word” to describe sex, thinking it emotionless and casual. But after Adam and I became a couple I’d discovered that when you were in love with someone and you knew they loved you back there were different levels to sex. At one end of the spectrum there was the tender, sweet, slow sex that I would call “making love” and at the other end of it there was the rough, wild, can’t-get-enough-of-you sex that was definitely the “f-word”. Adam was more than proficient in both kinds.
I thought about what he’d said and frowned. “You did a good job of hiding it. ”
He harrumphed. “I don’t know about that. ” He looked back at the diary and frowned.
“What ever happened to that Christian guy, by the way?”
“I let him down gently when he called to reschedule our date. ”
“I would say “poor guy” but I had to endure five years of wanting you and not having you. ”