AllFreeNovel
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Oh God, if he didn’t want to share the number, that meant it was probably even worse than I imagined. “Well, did you ever love anyone?” I wanted to kick myself for bringing up the “L” word, because obviously we weren’t in that place (and how could we be, with me going back home in two months?), but still . . . had he?
He sat up straighter in the bed, his back to the headboard. “Did you love Jax?”
Ugh, him with the misdirection again! “I thought I did, but no, I don’t think I did.”
“Well, I only had one true love, and that was fighting. There wasn’t much time for relationships back then. And in the last five years, I’ve not been interested in anything serious.”
The thought of his casual flings made my stomach turn.
“He still texts me.” The words fell from my lips after a few awkward moments of silence, and I wasn’t sure why. I guess not telling him made me feel like I was lying, somehow. I pulled my phone off the nightstand and scrolled to the texts from Jax.
“Your ex?” He swiped through the messages. I had received even more this week.
“I changed my number, but my mom gave him the new one.”
Adam thrust the phone back at me, looking as if steam were going to roll off him in hot billows of anger. “Why the bloody hell would she do that?”
“Because she doesn’t know what happened. No one does.”
“You didn’t tell anyone?”
“He lives on the neighboring farm. Our parents are best friends.”
“I can’t even think about him without . . .” He looked down at his lap, his hands becoming fists.
“So think about me, instead,” I murmured.
I shouldn’t have brought up Jax—it was stupid. Although I did feel a little better. It felt nice not to be trapped alone with the memories anymore.
“Come to Rome with me this weekend,” he said a moment later, our eyes connecting again.
“What?”
“I used to go to the football games whenever they were in Rome, but I haven’t been since I started fighting again. We could make a weekend of it.”
“A weekend in Rome?” The idea sounded amazing, but I was still his intern. Of course, I had no intention of accepting a permanent position at his company even if it was offered to me. Why was I still so worried about being spotted with him?
I drummed my fingers against my lips, acting as if this were a tough call. “What about your training? Can you afford to take time off?”
He raised his arm, flexing his delicious bicep. “Have you felt these arms? I’m good.” He laughed.
“Okay . . . on one condition.”
“Anything, love.”
“Tell me why the hell your family owns an Italian football team.”
“It’s a feckin’ embarrassing reason.” He shook his head as his eyes cast down at his lap. Was he joking, or was something really wrong? Sometimes I couldn’t tell.
He placed a fist to his mouth and cleared his throat. “Well, when I quit fighting I had a damn hard time with it. I tried a lot of other things to take my mind off it. Racing cars. Cliff diving. And other stupid shit.” His eyes were back on me. “I’d always loved football, so Da thought it’d be a good investment to buy a team. It was the only one on the market at the time, and so he snatched it at a good price and handed it over to me. He thought that running the team would distract me from thoughts of fighting.” He was shaking his head as he rubbed his jaw. “I know, what a feckin’ wanker I am—poor little rich boy whose da buys him a football team to help him feel better. Like I said, it’s embarrassing.”
“I don’t know if I’d use those words,” I said softly, “but it’s certainly a bit more extreme than when my dad would buy me ice cream.” I cracked a smile and was grateful to see him do the same.
“So, we can leave after work tonight? We can fly around in the chopper while we’re there,” he said with a smirk.
Before I could answer, my phone vibrated against my stomach. “It’s my mom. Shit.”
“You should probably answer it.”
