Page 68 of Four Day Fling


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I walked off, shaking my head and smiling. Lord, she was something else.

***

“Whatever Yvonne said to you, ignore it,” I said as Adam pushed open the door to the restaurant and held it open for me.

He half-grinned. “She’s a character.”

“You literally don’t know the half of it.” I shook my head and pulled my purse up onto my shoulder. “Where do you want to go?”

“I figured we could go to the park. I doubt you want to go all the way to my place, and I guess Avery isn’t at work?”

“She’s home.” And she’d have a field day if I took you with me…

“Park it is.”

We fell into step beside each other. My fingers twitched, and it felt weird to not reach for his hand. It’d happened so naturally when we were in Key West. Our hands had simply gravitated toward each other.

Adam stuffed his hands in the pockets of his shorts. Did he feel the same? I knew I felt weird. I couldn’t believe he was actually in front of me—or next to me, whatever. It was all the same.

And I was not over him. Not even a little bit.

Damn it.

We turned to the park, and I let him lead me to a private spot where nobody would see us. I was grateful for that—I didn’t fancy my face plastered over sports pages or whatever.

I sat on the grass and put my purse down next to me. Adam sat opposite me, leaning back on his hands and stretching his legs out while I leaned back against a tree trunk.

“How are you doing?” he asked, looking at me with his bright blue eyes.

“I’m good,” I said, somewhat evasively. “You?”

“I’m good. Training. Working.”

“Yeah, Avery was watching you on TV yesterday. Something about a sponsorship deal?”

His eyebrow quirked. “You didn’t watch?”

“I have no interest in sports,” I reminded him. “Why would I watch?”

“I’m pretty interesting.”

“Depends who you ask and whether or not it’s dark and there are sharks around.”

He choked back a laugh. “How’s your foot?”

“Healed. I saw a doctor when I got back just in case. Just a slightly deep cut from a stone, so you were right.” I shrugged. “But it solidified I’m never getting in the ocean in the dark again.”

“I’m right there with you on that, Red.”

Why did that once-hated nickname now give me chills? Damn damn damn it.

“So. Why’d you come find me at work?”

His eyebrow went up again.

“That came out a little blunt.” I bit the side of my bottom lip. “I mean. Shit.”

Adam laughed, dropping his head back slightly. “I get it. I should have called you. Sorry.”

“Eh, it’s all right. I needed to call you anyway.”

“You did?”

“Don’t even think about it. I asked you first.” I pointed at him.

He held up a hand with another laugh. “Okay, okay. Your dad called me this morning.”

Oh no.

“Oh no.”

Adam looked at me with a wry smile.

“Wait—how does my dad have your number?” I frowned. What sense did that even make?

“He…kind of asked me for it at the wedding. I didn’t see how I could say no. I didn’t think he’d ever actually call me.”

I rubbed my temples. “Sweet baby Jesus on drugs. I bet I know why he called.”

“Dinner. Saturday night.”

“Yep. He called me yesterday and told me Mom wants to see you. I was growing a pair so I could call you and ask you, but I guess Dad beat me to it.”

“He called and invited me. I didn’t want to just show up, and I had today off training, so I thought I’d come see you in person.”

I pushed hair behind my ear. “You could have called.”

“I could have called,” he said, tilting his head to the side. “But, Red, I wouldn’t have gotten to see you then, would I?”

I blushed lightly. “I don’t suppose you would have.” I paused and played with the hem of my shirt. “Look, you don’t have to. I told him you were busy so probably couldn’t come. It’s fine.”

“Do you want me to come?”

“You’re busy. You have a million other things you need to do—”

“That’s not what I asked, Red.” He shifted so he was closer to me and I could all but feel his leg as it got close to mine. “I asked you if you want me to come.”

I took a deep breath and looked away for a minute. “Do you want to come?”

His lips pulled to one side. “Well, I don’t particularly want to have dinner with your mother, no. I feel like there’ll be all sorts of questions I don’t want to answer.”

That was the story of my life.

“It’s fine,” I said. “I’ll just—”

“But I want to have dinner with you,” he added softly, his eyes capturing mine. “And if that means your parents are there, too, then that’s perfectly fine with me. And pretending to be your boyfriend for a few more hours isn’t such a hardship, either.”

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