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I think it’s hilarious, but I don’t laugh because it doesn’t feel like the time.
“I’m taking you to my house,” Adam says firmly. “I won’t be able to sleep a wink tonight thinking that guy might try to bother you when I leave.”
“He might try to bother me tomorrow. What are you going to do then?” I point out.
“I don’t know, Nova. Maybe I’ll ask you to move in.”
I fumble for words, but they’re all jumbled up in my brain and I can’t think of anything smart to say in reply.
Adam glances at me and he looks so painfully handsome that my brain glitches even harder.
Dancing around this line is becoming exhausting. It’s hard being with Adam all day. Hard not wanting to curl up in his side and fall asleep. Hard maintaining the professional distance Iknowwe need in order to work together.
Not that I’ll have to worry about it after a few weeks.
I stare straight ahead. “Once the month is up and I’ve handed my duties over to someone new, you won’t have to worry about me so much.”
Adam’s broad shoulders stiffen. He looks like a slab of perfectly chiseled stone as he stares straight ahead.
My eyes snap back to the highway. I hold my breath, waiting for him to respond.
But he doesn’t.
At least not to comment on what I’ve said about leaving.
“You’re staying over tonight. And about the rest…” He clenches his jaw. “We’ll figure out the rest when we get to it.”
* * *
Adam’s shirtis way too big for me and, at the very same time, it’s way too short. The hem of his T-shirt cuts off at my upper thigh.
I peer at the sweatpants he lent me. They keep slipping down my hips, even when I pull the draw string tight. But there’s no way I’m going outside without any pants on.
Taking out the drawstring in the sweatpants, I use it as a belt and tie it securely so it won’t fall.
There.
I glance at the mirror and rub my head. I’ve been wearing a bun all day. Honestly, it’s starting to give me a headache, but I refuse to remove my ponytail and let my hair roar out like a lion’s mane. Even if I’m wearing an oversized T-shirt and too-big sweatpants, I still have an image to maintain.
Easing the bathroom door open, I tiptoe out.
“Adam?”
I don’t see him in the living room. Shuffling down the hallway, I stop when I hear movement coming from the guestroom. Adam is putting Rowan to bed.
My lips curl up as I watch Adam tenderly set the blanket over Rowan and run a hand over his head.
“Night, bud.”
Rowan snores in response.
Adam turns and sees me in the doorway. I freeze when his eyes darken at the sight of me. It reminds me of that heated moment in the hallway. Am I imagining the attraction in his gaze? Is it just a trick of the light?
When he comes closer, the expression is gone, replaced by a mischievous smirk. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in casual clothes before. You look cute.”
“Don’t insult me.”
“I’m not.” His eyes slide over me again. “I mean it.”
