by Stella Rhys
I smiled against his lips, wishing I could just climb all over this man right now. “Ditto,” I said just as a knock came at the door.
We separated a second before Engelman’s assistant poked his head into the room. “Adam? Engelman’s asking for—”
“Yeah. Coming,” Adam said, clearing his throat and following him outside. But in the hall, he shot a glance over his shoulder at me, hitting me with a single second of that sexy grin and sending one last thrill darting up my spine.
And as I stood alone in the conference room for the next minute or so, just basking in the glorious aftermath of that meeting, I kept asking myself the same question. Is this even real?
But as I laughed to myself, finally turning off the light and walking out of the conference room, I answered my own question.
This was absolutely real.
And so much better than I could’ve ever imagined.
23
ADAM
Brunch on Sunday was downtown at Summit, a rooftop bar overlooking Pershing Square. As long as I was in town, I was either right here every Sunday at noon or at the rooftop spot over on Sunset.
The crew consisted mainly of my friends from law school, though we occasionally had some new meat in the mix. Thankfully, today wasn’t one of those days. I generally had no problem meeting my friends’ friends or colleagues, but I definitely wasn’t in the mood today, considering I barely had the patience for just my friends themselves.
In their defense, they were doing what they did pretty much every Sunday here—hit on the table with the hottest girls by sending drinks. Usually, at some point, this game included the two brothers, Brandt and Theo, delivering drive-by pick-up lines on the way to the bar or the bathroom, to see which of them would be more successful.
The record this month was two to one in Theo’s favor, which explained Brandt laying it on thick today, enlisting Sully to wing for him and making this whole meal pretty fucking intolerable—especially considering today, the “hot girl table” was right next to ours, so I couldn’t even get a break from their shit without excusing myself to the bar.
“Don’t listen to that clown. He’s not even single,” Sully said of Theo, making some girl feign an offended little gasp.
“What about him? Is he single?”
I didn’t even have to look up to know the girl was asking about me.
“Who, Adam? Yeah, but he’s married to work. See? Can’t even look up from his phone.”
I offered a smirk as I peered up for a second, but that was all I gave before going back to looking at the last text AJ sent me on Friday.
AJ: Enjoy my panties :) And dinner
Five words and they made me want to groan right at this table.
I had spent Thursday on the golf course with Engelman—at Engelman’s insistence—which made Friday an annoyingly busy-as-hell catch-up day at the office. And considering Holland and Iain were visiting on Monday, I had even more things I had to rush to complete so I’d have that evening free for them.
It left me with little time to do what I’d been waiting to do since our second Knox meeting on Wednesday, which was get AJ behind a closed door so I could taste and touch her as I pleased. I knew I wouldn’t have time to see her over the weekend since she had to visit her parents in Torrance on Saturday to tell them in person about Caspar, and Sunday—today—was reserved for Georgia’s birthday brunch with Emily and their friends from high school.
It had me on essentially a deadline to get in my fix of her, which was what led to our rushed but hot-as-all-fuck encounter before I left for my evening meeting on Friday.
I was supposed to be in my car, already on my way to dinner when I opted instead to take a turn down the hall and stalk AJ into the back file room. Just the memory of her sharp little gasp as I came up behind her made my blood rush.
And that was only the start of it.
I had exactly five minutes to make her come, but despite yanking her skirt up and pulling her panties to the side, she wound up getting her way, turning around, sinking to her knees and sucking on my cock. She took as much of me as she could, as fast and wet as she could, and when I grabbed two fistfuls of her hair, she looked up at me, holding those sexy eyes on me as she nodded, giving me permission to fuck.
When I filled her mouth with cum, she swallowed every drop, and as if that didn’t blow my mind enough, she wiggled out of her wet panties, handing them to me before sending me out to go to dinner.
And that was how we left off.
Which honestly made it a fucking miracle that I even made it to brunch today.
That was how we left off for the weekend.
It was also why I arrived mid-meal today. Because I’d spent the morning jacking it into her panties like a fucking animal.
I told myself it was a protective measure—to ensure that I didn’t have to deal with any public hard-ons, but here I was now, once again forced to tell my dick to chill the fuck out.
I was only vaguely registering my friends’ conversation with the girls, but eventually, Sully kicked me, and when I looked up, he shot me a quizzical look while nodding at the brunette in the crop top and ripped shorts. “Yo. You wanna talk to this girl or what?”
“Does it look like I want to?”
“Christ, okay,” Sully snorted. “The hell’s up with you, man? You good?”
He had a smile on to keep it lighthearted, but I could tell he was genuinely concerned.
“I’m good,” I said, and it was the truth. I was good.
Better than good.
I was just doing my best to leave my assistant alone on a Sunday.
“Your name is Adam? I’m Bella,” Crop Top said as she tipped her chair as far back as she could to extend her hand. I shook it.
“Nice to meet you,” I said directly before excusing myself.
I didn’t have anywhere to go. I just didn’t feel like faking interest in what my friends were doing, which they were definitely becoming aware of, judging by the one-word text Sully shot me.
SULLY: Bro
I snorted before I sent back a convincing lie.
ME: Dad’s asking me to call
SULLY: Ah ok tell Brad hi. Hope everything’s ok
I frowned.
Goddammit. Did he really need to add that second part?
It made me wonder myself if everything was okay. Rather, less okay than usual. I wouldn’t know because now that I was forced to think about it, I hadn’t called my dad in probably two weeks. Actually, I had no idea how long it had been. Long enough that I had to throw out an arbitrary guess.
“Fuck you, Sully,” I muttered to my unsuspecting friend, because without even realizing, he’d officially guilted me into calling my dad.
So dipping inside, I found an unoccupied seat at the end of the bar where I quickly dialed my dad’s number before I decided not to.
He picked up in one ring.
“Hey!”
A smile quirked on my lips, because he sounded good. “What’s up.”
“What’s up yourself! I’m surprised to hear from you.”
I grimaced as I looked off in the distance. Man, everyone was unintentionally guilting me today. “Sorry I’ve been so busy. Figured I’d just call to see how it’s going.”
“Oh, you know. It’s going.”
I snorted. That was what Holland and I called Brad-isms. Basically good-natured filler words. Non-answers to try to paint things as fine when they weren’t. Oh, it’s going. It is what it is. What can you do. That kind of thing. When there wasn’t an active flare-up of mom craziness, we tried not to talk about her or the Holland drama. But that was what made our conversations so strained these days.
There was really nothing else to talk about, especially when we all knew that Dad missed Holland and me. He hadn’t seen Holland since she moved out eight months ago. He’d seen me for a lunch in January, when I had a business trip to New York. But other than that, full-day visits were a no-go, because there was no leaving for long
without setting off Mom. And since Holland and I wouldn’t see her, and Dad felt bad seeing us alone, we were basically trapped in this limbo from now till forever.
It sucked. It wasn’t fun.
But it was just our reality.
“So, what are you up to?” I asked.
“Uhh, actually, we’re cleaning out Holland’s bedroom,” Dad said somewhat awkwardly as I raised my eyebrows. Damn. That meant Mom was finally getting it. She wasn’t going to come home. “Not fully, but just moving some stuff to the basement.”
“Well, that’s… good,” I said.
“Yeah, it’s good to tidy up,” Dad said, ever eager to keep our conversations positive. “Hey—by the way. When I was in the basement, I found your old cell phone from high school.” I paused. “The one with all the video diaries you recorded for—”
“Yeah, Dad,” I interrupted, shaking my head. “I don’t need that thing. Just throw it away.”
I heard a pause and shuffling on the other end. “Are you sure? These are precious memories. And they’re such nice videos. I don’t think it’s too late to send them.”
“Dad,” I said firmly. “For Christ’s sake.”
“Alright, alright.”
It was quiet for a few seconds before I said, “Sully says hi.”
Jesus. Really didn’t think I’d have to bank on that for conversation.
“Oh, tell him hi!” Dad said.
Then he asked where I was, which other friends I was with and if the food was good at Summit. When I described what I’d ordered, he asked if I’d take him there the next time he visited, and I said of course, despite the fact that we both knew he wasn’t coming anytime soon.
Then we talked about a bunch of other shit—what he bought for dinner tonight, how he was making it, how the deer were still eating his tomatoes in the backyard—but I knew, even as we got a few laughs out, what we were both actually thinking about right now.
Those stupid video diaries that I couldn’t believe I’d actually recorded as a high schooler.
It was a distant memory, but apparently there was a time when I was a naive little puppy dog. When I’d yet to realize what happened to your head and your heart when you chose to fully love someone.
I was distracted enough by the memory of them that I could hear myself giving delayed replies, starting to sound bored despite the fact that I wasn’t—my mind was just determined to wander somewhere else.
But there was no one more sensitive to that sound than my dad, so it wasn’t long before he was telling me to go ahead and be with my friends, and thanking me for calling him, which quietly depressed the living shit out of me.
This is why I don’t call. Because we both love each other, but nobody wins.
“Hey, one more thing, son,” Dad said just as I was about to hang up, and when I said “what’s up” without hearing anything back from him for the next three seconds, I knew I was in for something heavier than I wanted to deal with right now.
But that was Dad these days. I didn’t call enough, so when I did, he tried to make it count.
He made a few “uh” and “ah” sounds before finally finding his words.
“If I could go into the past, I would’ve been stronger about the way I let Mom treat you. I wouldn’t have let her drive away the people you love,” he said.
I stared blankly out at nothing as I nodded like my dad could see me. And when I went too long without responding, I finally said, “Thanks.” It seemed a little short though, so I added, “I appreciate it.”
Then we hung up and I headed back to my table where I sat back down and did a better job of acting interested in whatever my friends were talking about with the girls. I smiled, laughed, introduced myself to the other three girls and joined Theo in roasting Sully for a little before I told myself I’d done my part and given my best effort.
I’d tried to hang out normally with the guys and not bother AJ, but I’d just hit my limit.
So I checked her Instagram story for the third time, watching the video she took of a big brunch spread and a table of what looked to be six girls, including Georgia and Emily.
It was from over two hours ago, so I reasoned that brunch could very well be over now. And after another few minutes, I caved, shooting her a quick text.
ME: What are you up to?
24
AJ
“Wait, so who’s coming to get you?”
The check was paid for, but the girls and I were still at the joyful birthday mess of a table, hoping to finish the ambitious amount of booze we’d ordered, but apparently, ordering that fourth pitcher was not in fact a good idea for six girls, especially since Emily stopped after her second drink, like the responsible human the rest of us were not.
Besides my sister, it was me, Georgia and three friends from high school—Chloe, Kate and Annie, who were all very curious about who was coming to give me a ride from brunch.
When I opted to keep mum by sipping on my sangria, the girls turned to Georgia.
“Her hot boss,” Georgia said.
“What?”
“Adam?”
They all knew his name—mostly because Georgia had to describe him in detail after seeing him for the first time four years ago—but none of them remembered his last name, and now it was a madhouse with me insisting “it’s not a big deal” while everyone ignored me to badger Georgia, because they knew she was more prone to spill any details.
“Wait, where is he taking you on a Sunday?”
“Is it for work? Georgia’s smiling like it’s not for work.”
“What’s his last name again? I need to Google him.”
My head was spinning. It was all chaotic to the point of being hilarious, but it was also completely anxiety-inducing, because the last thing I wanted was for my friends to get all excited over something I had no idea how to describe.
Adam and I were… something for sure. I knew we were more than a hook-up at this point, but I couldn’t put a label on it. I was also still nervous about it—almost superstitious. Like if I said any of my feelings or suspicions out loud, it would all get ruined the next day. It was why I hadn’t even been telling Georgia the full story of anything this week. She was getting more excited than I could handle anymore, so all I’d told her was that I’d gone to his house to help him meal prep last Sunday, that we’d had a good heart-to-heart, and that we’d fooled around a few more times this week. I admitted that things were fun.
But that was it.
“Damn, Em, why the face?” Chloe asked suddenly, making me blink across the table.
In the pure chaos of the past few minutes, I’d neglected to look in my sister’s direction, but now that I was, I could feel my mood dipping, because she was doing that thing where she just shook her head and sipped her drink.
“What?” I said.
“Nothing,” she replied.
And to my partial relief, she left it that.
But I knew what she was thinking. That I was now doing double duty as both assistant and Sunday afternoon booty call. In fairness, I did just get a vague, potentially brunch booze-fueled text to get picked up, and I didn’t know why, but it was probably for sex.
My cheeks burned for a moment, because as much as I knew this wasn’t a booty call, I knew how bad it looked right now. I also didn’t know for sure that Adam wasn’t drunk after a meal with his boys and looking to fuck me in his car.
But just as I started to indulge my dumber thoughts, Kate gasped.
“Oh. My. God. Is that him?”
I instinctively shook my head, ready to tell the girls to relax, that he wouldn’t be coming in. But then I looked at where they were all staring and my heart skipped several beats, because there was Adam—wearing simple blue jeans and a white V-neck that made his shoulders and chest look so good that under the table, my toes were curling in my shoes. He looked hotter than anyone in Hollywood with that pair of wayfarers on, but he took them off as soon as he saw that we’d spotted him.
/> And when his eyes found mine, he smiled.
“Wait. Stop. Are you kidding me? Stop.” Next to me, I could hear Georgia hissing her delighted disbelief under her breath, which became not-so-under-her-breath when she spotted the white paper bag Adam’s hand. “Oh my God—did you bring me cupcakes?” she squealed.
That set off the next round of madness that had me laughing as my tipsy friends clamored over Adam, saying hello, introducing themselves, insisting he sit and offering drinks. It gave me no time myself to react to the fact that he’d brought Georgia cupcakes, which was potentially the cutest thing I’d ever seen him do.
Oh my goodness.
What the hell is even happening?
As I asked myself the question, I snuck a glance across the table at Emily, who was staring openly stunned at Adam, not taking her eyes off of him, her gaze traveling all over—from his smiling face to his admittedly impossible-not-to-look-at torso to the box of cupcakes he set on the table as he actually obliged my friends’ aggressively insistent request that he sit and have a drink.
“Adam…” I said, only just managing to get a word in as Georgia scooted a seat down so Adam could sit between us.
“Hey,” he said to me with a grin before he had his attention pulled back away by Georgia and the girls. But he kept a hand on my knee as my friends fired off a million questions about work and clients and if I was being a good assistant, if I was his best assistant ever—basically just embarrassing me to no end and making me desperately wish for a quiet moment to talk to Adam, because I was actually kind of stunned myself that he was here.
Thankfully, and a bit surprisingly, Emily read the anxious look on my face and after some looking around, managed to direct everyone’s drunk attention to a particularly cute dog across the street.