Page 6 of Naughty or Nice


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He hesitated, then said, “Go for it.”

“I won’t tag you or anything. Not that I even know your last name.”

“Bullock.”

Bullock.

Adam Bullock.

Meredith Bullock.

Adam and Meredith Bullock.

Mr. and Mrs. Adam Bullock.

The Bullocks.

I laughed inwardly at my ridiculous thoughts, as I stared down at our photo. “Do you want me to tag you?”

He shook his head. “I’m not on Instagram.”

“Are you too cool for social media?” I teased.

“I went on there to see what the hype was all about once and accidentally liked someone’s photo from five years ago. Figured that made me look like a creep, so I vowed never to go on there again.”

I was cracking up. “I hate when that happens.”

After uploading my favorite photo of us—one where his arm was around me, I applied the Gingham filter and the hashtags: #AnUberChristmas #NewFriend #DontKnowHimFromAdam #ClarkKent

“Let me see,” he said, taking the phone from me. He stared at the photo and rolled his eyes. “Clark Kent, huh?”

“You remind me of him…in a good way.”

“My muscles?”

I giggled. “Your glasses. But now that you mention it…your muscles, too.” I felt my cheeks heat up after offering him that compliment.

Adam began to scroll through my other photos, most of which were of food. “Now, I see where most of your money goes. You’re a foodie.”

“Yes. I love taking elaborate photos of my meals in various lighting.”

“You’re very artistic.”

I couldn’t tell if he was bullshitting me. “Thank you.”

When he handed me back my phone, his hand landed on mine for a few seconds.

As much as I’d hoped to see him again, I honestly couldn’t fully read him. He’d alluded to the fact that he chose to remain single after losing his girlfriend to cancer in his twenties. Did that mean he wanted to be single forever?

How old is he anyway?

“How old are you?”

“Thirty-one,” he answered. “You?”

“Twenty-eight.” I smiled. “’Bout time I got my shit together, right?”

“Nah. You’re good. You don’t need to do anything differently.”

I shrugged. “I would hardly say that.”

“You’re a bright, attractive woman who stopped her life to take care of her sick grandmother. You’re just getting back on your feet between that and your douchnozzle ex throwing you that curveball.”

Once again, his words had soothed my soul somehow. Maybe I needed to take a bit of Adam’s advice, take my fate into my own hands. I got the sudden urge to ask him if he’d want to hang out sometime in the New Year. Maybe he was the type of guy who needed a clear signal, especially if he was closed off when it came to women.

My heart started to beat faster as I readied to pose my bold question.

Before the words had a chance to escape my mouth, the car skidded on some ice, sending us into a snow bank.

This time, Adam had come crashing into my direction. I felt his large hand on my knee.

“Are you okay?” he asked before promptly removing it.

No, put it back.

“Yeah,” I said as my heart pounded from the adrenaline rush.

The car wasn’t moving. The tires were rolling but we weren’t getting any traction. We were now stuck in the snow.

Crap! I was going to be late for my hearing.

The driver finally said, “You guys better go. I think I’m gonna be here for a while. The courthouse is only a couple of blocks that way. You can walk.”

I looked at the time on my phone and turned to Adam. “I’m actually running late. I have to go.” I waited a bit for him to say something, to give him a chance to make a move, but he just looked at me.

After I reluctantly exited the car, I realized he was getting out, too, and coming around to where I was standing on the sidewalk.

“Let’s go,” he said.

I perked up. “You’re coming with me?”

“Yeah. I’m going to the courthouse, too. That was always the plan.”

I hadn’t realized that, even though it made sense, given that he was an attorney.

“Oh, for some reason, I didn’t think we were going to the same exact place.”

As we trudged through the snow together, I no longer felt brave enough to ask him out. That car mishap had apparently knocked the courage right out of me, or maybe knocked some sense into me.

When we arrived at the entrance, I had to wait in a long line, while Adam could breeze right through the attorney only door. I held out a last bit of hope that maybe he’d ask to see me again, but was disappointed when he merely gave me a wave.

“Good luck today, Meredith. Whatever you do, just be extra nice to the plaintiff’s attorney, and I’m sure you’ll get what you need.”

I half-heartedly smiled. “Thanks. It was nice meeting you, Clark Kent.”

He walked through the metal detectors and yelled back to me in line. “You, too, beautiful.”“All rise. The Civil Court of the City of New York is now in session, the Honorable Daniel Ebenezer presiding. Everyone please remain standing until the judge has entered and is seated.”

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