“I fell asleep? That’s so embarrassing.” My face heats. “I’m almost never awake this late unless I’m studying for a test.” I frown at the map display on his dash, which seems to be stuck rerouting. “Why does it say rerouting?”
“I might’ve gone around the block a couple times so I didn’t have to wake you.”
“How many times is a couple?”
He scratches his nose and looks away. “Eight.”
“Adam .”
“Okay, let’s go!” He’s at my door before I can count to three.
“You don’t have to take me in.” He can’t come in, and the thought of me having to make excuses sends my pulse racing in my ears.
“I won’t ask to come in. Just wanna walk you to your door, that’s all.”
With his hand on my lower back, he follows me through the lobby and into the elevator. It climbs slowly, my nerves climbing with it. By the time we reach the twelfth floor, I’m an anxious mess.
Is he going to kiss me? Do I kiss him? Do I offer him a handshake? No, I can’t do that again. What if—
“Which one?”
My head snaps up. “Huh. Oh. Yeah. Here.” I scramble down the hall. “I’m down here, at the end.” I stick my key in the lock, pausing to listen for any sign of life, holding in a sigh of a relief at the silence. I turn back to Adam. “So I guess I’ll, uh…” I shove my hand between us.
Goddammit, Rosie.
I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head, pulling my hand back. Then I snap my fingers. “Oh! Your sweater!” I reach for the hem, but Adam stops me with his hand on mine.
“Keep it. For next time.”
“Next time? Like, a…second date?”
“A second date. With wine and ice cream and all your secrets.” He steps into me, and when my back hits the door, he chuckles. His face dips, and my heart leaps to my throat as he hesitates, his lips inches from mine, so close I can taste him .
He smiles, just there in the right-hand corner, a tiny quirk of his beautiful mouth, before he brushes his soft lips across my cheek.
“Good night, trouble.”
My eyes stay locked on his as I disappear backward into my apartment. I watch through the peephole as he stands there, hands tucked in his pockets. His hand comes up, running through his curls, and with one last glance at my door and a grin that keeps growing, Adam turns and walks away.
I ditch my shoes in the hallway and drown my excitement with a glass of water before I head through the dark living room. I make it three steps before I trip over something fluffy that starts giggling.
“Elmo loves to laugh! ”
“For fuck’s sake, Elmo.” I grab the toy off the floor and throw it toward the basket in the corner. It lands with a thud and laughs at me again, a taunting, satanic sound I hate with a passion.
I pause at my bedroom door, listening with my ear pressed against it. Nothing but white noise trickles out, so I push the door open as quietly as possible. Rustling sounds, and a tiny body rushes to standing, popping up from the crib in the corner of my room. The dim glow of the stars shining on the ceiling from Connor’s favorite light illuminates the most magnificent, sleepy green eyes, and my favorite man smiles up at me as I step inside.
Connor shifts on his feet, reaching his tiny hands into the air, grabbing for me.
“Mama !”
I scoop my son into my arms and cuddle him close, my eyes fluttering closed against his fine, blond wisps.
“Hi, baby,” I whisper. “Mama missed you.”
CHAPTER 8
OKAY FRIENDS; TERRIBLE ADVICE
ADAM
“My junk looks huge.”
I push away the photo currently being shoved in my face. “Get it outta my face.”
Carter pumps his brows. “Intimidating, huh? You don’t have to tell me.” He flips through the photos on his phone before he leans into his wife, who sits at the end of the table with Ireland strapped to her chest. He drops his voice, but not low enough that I can’t make out his words. “Don’t you think the sword of thunder looks massive in my dick pics?”
“For the love of God, Carter, it’s called an underwear shoot, not dick pics.”
“Tomato, tomahto. I’m gonna be all over North America.”
She yanks his phone out of his hands, tucking it in her bag. “Stop looking at pictures of yourself. Your friend is asking you for advice.”
He waits for her to walk away, watching with a smile as she joins a small girl playing with dolls. He braces his hands out between us. “Okay, here’s what you do. You wait at least five days, and hopefully she calls first. When she does, you hesitate, like you’re trying to place the name.”
Garrett stares at Carter. “That’s the worst advice I’ve ever heard. Ollie would’ve broken your nose if you tried that on her.”
“She’d have to be able to reach my nose first.”
“I can hear you !” she calls across the room.
Emmett shakes his head, stringing a glittery pink butterfly bead onto a thread. “Listen, man, if you like her, you call her. There’s no rule about how long you need to wait.”
“The sooner, the better,” Garrett adds from his spot on the floor, where a little boy is sitting between his legs, looking through a book about animals. “It shows you’re serious.”
I look at Jaxon. His eyes are closed as a girl dusts bright purple eyeshadow over his lids, then sticks two holographic flower stickers to the outside corners of his eyes.
He cracks a lid. “What are you looking at me for? I don’t call girls after a date, period.” Sarah, the girl currently doing his makeup, kicks his shin. “Ow, fuck! I mean, crap. Crap, what was that for?”
Sarah props a fist on her hip. “No girl is ever gonna love you with that bad attitude, Jaxon.”
“My mama loves me. She’s the only girl I need.”
“Whatever. Tell me that again when you come crying to me for advice because the girl you like won’t call you back.”
“Why would I—ugh, never mind. You’re eleven. You’re not getting under my skin.” Jaxon points at me as Sarah uses a butterfly clip to pull his hair off his forehead. “My point is this: don’t ask me for advice, because I don’t have any. You and I date for two very different reasons.”
Sarah scrunches her nose. “Why would you date for any other reason than to fall in love and get married?”
“Because I like to f—” He stops, holding my glare. “I love friends. I love making friends. So many friends. Why pick just one, you know?”
A tiny hand touches mine, and Lily’s wide chocolate eyes peer up at me.
“Your friends are weird,” she whispers.
“So weird,” I whisper back. “But I’m stuck with them.”
She snickers into her hand. “At least you have me. I’m not weird.”
“And you’re my favorite of all my friends.”
Her eyes spark. “Really?”
“Yup. You’re always kind to me, and you teach me new things. I’m lucky to have a friend like you.”