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“Where are we?” We stopped in front of a door just midway down the hall. I could hear the faint sounds of a tap-tap-tap coming from afar, as well as shouting. Or was that screaming?
“It’s a boys and girls club—a place for teens to hang out in the evening when they have nowhere to go.” He opened the door, flipped on the light, and went inside.
“And why are we here?”
He grabbed a pair of sweats, a gray T-shirt, and some socks. “I think there are shoes in here, too.” He squatted down. “What size?”
“Eight.”
I admired his shoulder blades and the way the fabric of his slacks strained over the muscles in his quads as he reached for the shoes.
“We keep a lot of stuff here in case the kids ever need clothes.” He rose to his feet and plopped a pair of orange Nikes on top of the clothes.
“Nikes, huh? You don’t mess around.” I laughed nervously. “So, you gonna answer my question?”
He shut the door and stood just outside of it. “I had this place built a few years ago. I wanted a place for kids to go where they could stay out of trouble. Keep people from turning out like me.”
“Like you? What? A rich businessman?”
“I wasn’t always a choir boy.” A smile skated across his lips—the panty-dropping kind. Although mine were already wet, for different reasons.
“And you’re a choir boy now?” I smiled. “Sure.”
He pressed a hand to his chest as if I’d offended him. “You said you wanted to work, so I brought you here to work, Miss Smarty Pants.”
“I hardly call hanging out with teenagers work.”
“Well, I come here twice a week to spend time with them. I’m going to be wrapped up the next few months, and I may not be able to make it often. It would mean a lot to me if you’d be able to step in.” He blew out a breath as his eyes met mine. “There are things worth more to me than money.”
“You don’t act like a billionaire,” I blurted.
He smiled at me. “Oh yeah? And how am I supposed to act?”
“Not this normal,” I answered lamely, which induced a laugh from him. “Anyway,” I said, raising my hands in the air, “this will be fun. I come from a big family, so this will feel like I’m home again. It’ll be nice.”
His hand came down on my shoulder. “Get dressed, and I’ll introduce you. The jacks is up the hall.”
The jacks? I didn’t bother to ask. It must be Irish for the bathroom. “Adam?”
He’d already started down the hall, so he paused and glanced over his shoulder at me.
“What has you so busy you won’t be coming here?” I wasn’t sure why I needed to know, but if this place was important to him—and it had to have been for him to open it and spend his nights there—what would keep him away?
“Nothing you need to worry about,” he said softly before looking away. He moved quickly down the hall and turned out of sight.
I sighed, trying to push away the strange, nagging feeling inside me as I walked into the bathroom.
“Jeez!” I cupped a hand to my mouth, dropping the clothes on the counter in the bathroom. I looked like I’d just stepped out of a horror film. One in which I played an evil clown. Black streaks were beneath my eyes mimicking deathly tears.
I splashed water on my face and wiped at the splotches of black until they disappeared. My cheeks were a little red and my foundation had come off, but it was still an improvement. I combed my fingers through my sopping hair and wrapped it up into a loose bun on my head.
That would have to do.
I quickly changed and made my way down a hall, following the noise.
When I pushed open a set of doors, there were teenagers everywhere. And why wouldn’t there be? It was a kid’s dream.
An indoor basketball court was on one side of the room where a group of guys played five on five. On the other side were rows of long, rectangular tables. Pizza boxes were open, and several kids sat there eating. TVs lined one wall, attached to game systems, and several kids were playing board games at neighboring tables.
