“That seems awfully judgey for a girl who can’t cope without coffee.”
I snorted. “If you think this shirt is bad, you should see the rest of them.”
“You have a collection?”
“Some people collect, I don’t know, jigsaw puzzles. I collect snarky t-shirts.” I shrugged a shoulder.
“I honestly don’t know anyone who collects jigsaw puzzles.”
“It was a figure of speech.”
“That was the best you could come up with?”
“You know,” I said slowly. “I liked you a whole lot more when your face was between my legs.”
Adam burst out laughing.
And, oh God, it was a glorious laugh. Like Nutella on Belgian waffles. Chocolate sauce on ice cream. Icing on cake.
Uhh. Now I was hungry.
“I didn’t mind that much myself,” he said, a twinkle in his eye. “But, that still doesn’t explain why you were watching me sleep.”
“Okay. I wasn’t watching you sleep,” I insisted. “I was genuinely thinking, but I can understand how waking up to a hungover redhead standing in the middle of your room, looking at you in bed, might be construed as weird.”
“Well, fuck that. I was worried I’d picked up a total crazy.”
“Has that happened before?”
“You don’t wanna know,” he muttered, taking a swig from his cup. “Why were you standing there, then?”
I clicked my tongue. “I was hoping to avoid this conversation.”
Adam stared at me. “Well, I know I used a condom, so that eliminates a whole bunch of problematic scenarios.”
I sighed and rolled my eyes. “Thanks for clearing that up. I didn’t know what a condom was for.”
His lips curved.
He had the most infectious smile. It reached his eyes every time, making them sparkle a little brighter.
It annoyed me because I wasn’t in a situation to be smiling. Sure, I’d just had crazy hot sex with a hot as hell guy, but whatever.
“Look, I should probably go,” I said, finishing my coffee.
“You hungry?” Adam asked, straightening up.
I stilled. “I…what?”
He moved to a floor-to-ceiling cupboard and opened the door, revealing a fridge behind it. “Are you hungry? I have stuff for omelets. You want an omelet?”
What was happening?
“Uh…sure?”
“You don’t sound sure. There’s bacon, tomato, ham, cheese, mushrooms…”
“I hate mushrooms. And tomatoes.”
He jerked his head around. “How is that possible?”
I shrugged a shoulder. “They’re slimy.”
“Fair enough. Bacon omelet? With ham? Cheese?”
Seriously. What was happening?
“Okay. I guess.”
He pulled a bunch of stuff out of the fridge and dumped it on the island in front of me. “Don’t worry, I can cook. I’m not gonna kill you.”
I stared at the myriad of ingredients on the counter. “Color me reassured.”
CHAPTER TWO – POPPY
Omelets and Awkwardness
Turned out, Adam could cook.
And my tummy was very, very happy about that.
“So,” he said, pushing his plate to the side. “What were you thinking about?”
I sighed, cradling my coffee cup. “I knew there was a catch to this.”
“Hey, I cooked you breakfast and didn’t find you completely weird for the way I woke up. Give me some credit.” He grinned. “Are you done?”
I nodded.
He stood, abs tensing as he leaned over the counter and picked up my plate.
God, this wasn’t fair. He was hot, had a great body, and knew how to use his very generously sized penis. Was there anything imperfect about him?
“You’re staring at me again. Is that an issue you have?”
“I have a lot of issues,” I said. “And they all start with my family, which is exactly why I was staring at you in the first place,” I finished on a mutter.
“That sounds equal parts interesting and weird,” Adam admitted, swinging a stool back under him. He sat down, mirroring my pose with how he held his cup. “Why don’t you just tell me, and I’ll decide how weird I really think you are?”
“Oh, boy. You’re opening a whole can of worms there. I mean, who wears a shirt like this on a night out?” I motioned to my gray shirt.
His mouth twitched as he once again glanced down. “I didn’t want to mention it, but…”
I pursed my lips and hit him with a dark look.
“Kidding. I’m kidding.” He held up his hands with a laugh.
I wasn’t getting out of this. Hell, the man had woken up to me staring at him like I was potentially plotting his murder, then he’d cooked me breakfast.
He was obviously a nice guy, and shit—I had nothing left to lose, did I?
I was going to Rosie’s wedding alone anyway, so what the hell?
“Okay.” I glanced into my coffee cup. “I’m going to preface this by saying my mother is…an acquired taste for most people.”
He raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
“My sister is getting married to her high school sweetheart this weekend. He’s a stupidly successful doctor, and my mom is positively beside herself in joy that my sister didn’t fuck it up.” I paused. “And I’ve been told that if I show up without a date, I’m dead to her.”