Reckless (Irresistible 6)

No one had eyes as blue, a jawline as sharp. They didn’t have his smile, his charm or that tinge of mischief in that low, sexy voice. They didn’t have all that height and lean muscle or the way he looked just watching you while leaning back on leather, wearing a sharp white button-down with the sleeves rolled up.

Had I not already been with Caspar, been through the Schilling mess with him before I met Adam, I would’ve never noticed him either.

And realizing this now only pissed me off.

Because it was like shining a light on the fact that Adam had been in my head, under my skin all these years, in all the ways I tried to tell myself he wasn’t. I thought we were just as close as we could be as friends. A boss and assistant. Everything we learned about each other and did for each other was for the sake of work. Being the absolute best team at the office.

That was what I thought.

But I was so incredibly wrong.

The reality was that this whole time, I’d been setting myself up to want one man and one man only. I’d been through my most formative years with him. I’d lived my proudest moments with him. He fit me best, and I was crazy about him.

Enough so that I could barely look at this picture of another man without wanting to laugh and say, I got my man, I’m good. They were the words I felt in my heart.

Of course, they weren’t the ones that left my lips.

“Damn. He’s cute,” I said, eyebrows up and grinning.

“He’s better in motion,” Holland said as Iain dipped his head and said something to her I couldn’t hear. But Holland relayed it. “He’s telling me to stop being so aggressive, but I’m honestly not,” she laughed to me, then him. “It doesn’t have to happen. I only thought of it because I saw what you were wearing,” she said to me.

Adam looked over at me fast enough that Holland looked at him.

“What is she wearing?” he said flatly, looking at my blazer. From the side, it was all he could see, save for a bit of the skirt of my dress.

I wasn’t sure if I imagined the awkwardness as Holland looked at her brother.

“Uhh. It’s like, a lacy corset dress,” she said slowly. “ ‘Cause of the dress code for the party tonight.”

The awkwardness was definitely not imagined as she suddenly shifted in her seat and frowned at Iain in a wordless question. I didn’t know exactly what she was asking, but I felt something shift in the air, making it so stifling that I wanted to excuse myself to the bathroom. But something told me Holland would follow, and I didn’t want to explain to her what was happening, because I wasn’t entirely sure myself, so instead, I sucked it up till the server arrived to take our drink orders.

Adam and I ordered first, and as soon as the server started speaking to Holland, I felt Adam’s attention shift swiftly back to me. It had been on me since the mention of Gavin. He hadn’t looked me in the eye once, but I could feel it in the tension emanating from his body, and now that both Holland and Iain were talking to the server, it was a thousand times as palpable.

“Tell me what’s going on.”

He said the words under his breath, his face angled toward me as he looked at the dinner menu.

“Tell me why you wanted Knox,” I countered. “The real reason.”

I watched as Adam’s scanning eyes stopped at a random point of the menu. It only ignited the fire in my veins, because it was an admission. Of guilt. And now he was trying to understand how I knew. How I realized he’d had ulterior motives with Knox the whole time.

Probably for our sake, Iain was asking about their whiskey selection, so while I had the time, I cut to the chase.

“You were supposed to email Josh a contract, I did it for you and I saw the pictures you had up of Lyla. I saw the video.” My voice was soft but trembling as I looked up to see Adam’s jaw tightening. “Who is she to you?” I demanded quietly.

He shook his head. His voice was stiff as he said, “No one.”

“Then why are you stalking her online?” I asked. When he didn’t answer, I repeated myself. “Who is she, Adam?”

“I can’t talk about this right now.”

The fire lit in my veins as I peered at Adam. The way his face went blank. Expressionless. The way he wasn’t looking at me, still pretending to read the stupid menu.

“Then just tell me one thing. Was your interest in Knox personal or professional?” I asked.

His jaw ticked. “Personal.”

“Okay,” I said—and with a finality I didn’t fully understand myself until ten, twenty minutes later, when I was talking to Holland and chose to ask about her colleague Gavin.