Ugh.
Emily’s words came back to haunt me as I sat at my kitchen counter.
So, how would you feel if Adam slept with her tonight?
I stewed for three seconds before I heaved a sigh. “Not great, Emily, okay?” I confessed aloud, irrationally annoyed at both her and me and Adam as well, because now my stupid brain was digging through every memory in the past five years that I had of Adam’s smile as he talked on the phone with Naomi, and that low, sexy chuckle he gave whenever the girl on the other line said something presumably very dirty. “Ughhh,” I said with exaggerated irritation just to get it all out of my system.
Then I pulled up my big girl panties, told myself to stop thinking about this and played Words With Friends in the kitchen till it was a quarter to eight and a safe time to go.
By the time I got to Adam’s house, it was a hair before 8PM, which explained why Morris’s car wasn’t here yet. He was the home cook who came every Sunday evening to meal prep for the week, since I swore Adam ate more meals a day than any human I knew.
Then again he was six feet and four inches of pure lean muscle, so maybe it was normal.
Aside from his daily breakfast at Gizzy’s, lunch somewhere near the office and a dinner meeting at some ritzy restaurant, he also had first breakfast in the early morning and second dinner at night, since he generally stayed up late to work.
I was wondering what Morris had on the menu for tonight as I was letting myself in, but as soon as I was in, I was wondering something else entirely—namely why Adam left the TV on. He never did that, but as I made my way through the foyer I could hear the distinct sounds of March Madness playing from the living room.
My intention was to turn it off until I got to where the living room met the dining room and kitchen—and saw Adam sitting at his dining table, wearing a white T-shirt and sweats. The sun set on him as he, surprisingly, wrote a letter on stationery. By hand. There was even a first draft balled up next to him, as well as an envelope already stamped and addressed.
I could’ve watched him for longer, but it felt like a big, weird invasion of privacy, so as gently as I could, I said, “Adam.”
Still, he startled, looking instinctively pissed the way he did whenever he was interrupted. But then his eyes found me, and I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel warm all over from the way he instantly calmed.
“Oh. Hey.”
Heading over to him, I cocked my head to the side. “Why aren’t you dressed? Or at dinner?”
Adam blinked for a second, as if forgetting what dinner was. “Oh. I got held up by a phone call and I decided to just… cancel altogether. Didn’t really f
eel like going.”
“Huh.” Do not rejoice that he didn’t go. He’s clearly bummed about something, I scolded myself. “Everything okay?” I asked as we met each other halfway in the kitchen. “Was it work?”
“No,” Adam answered.
And since he left it at that, I nodded, doing my typical silent cursing of Jeannie. Thanks a lot, lady. Can you chill with your shit for just one day? I thought before glancing over at the clock on the top oven.
“You know Morris is going to be here any second, right?” I reminded him, instinctively sorting the pile of mail on his pristine white counter as he took the seat right by me on one of the kitchen stools.
“Nah, I canceled. I needed a quiet house.”
I frowned. “Well, he’s booked till next Sunday and now you’ve got a fridge full of groceries you’re going to waste, because you can’t cook to save your life.”
Adam laughed a little but didn’t hit back. Okay. My frown deepened. Something is very wrong.
I looked around, trying to find any sort of hint as to why he was so somber. But as soon as my eyes returned to his letter in the dining room, he said something about cleaning up his shit before getting up and collecting the stationery and envelope off the table.
Curiously, I watched him.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen Adam in a mood so shortly after another mood. They were usually spaced farther apart, but I also didn’t doubt his mom was raising increasing amounts of hell every day. The one time I met her, she was cold and frosty and spent most of the lunch talking only to Holland, and in low mutters that were not for the rest of us to hear. Possessive didn’t even begin to describe Jeannie Maxwell, so I could only imagine what she was like these days given she still hadn’t gotten in contact with Holland.
“Jump drive for you,” I said when Adam got back, and once I set it in his palm, I made the announcement that I had just decided on two seconds ago. “I’m going to meal prep for you tonight.”
Adam’s eyebrows lifted as he cracked a smile. “AJ, you definitely don’t have to do that.”
“I know, but I want to. Consider it a thank you for helping me exorcise Caspar yesterday.”
Adam smirked. “I’m pretty sure you already thanked me. In fact, I haven’t finished thanking you.”