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God. Okay.
Dial it back, I thought, sucking in a deep breath. You’re just crazy-brained because you’re angry and vengeful. So just breathe. Calm down, I told myself, though I couldn’t seem to do it, and my struggle was evident because Adam murmured, “Tell me what you need right now, AJ.”
“I…”
I need a drink.
I really did. But after taking a few seconds to really breathe, I realized what I needed first and foremost, which was my own fucking room. One without Caspar in it. And I couldn’t get that without my wallet or ID, which meant I needed my purse—which I’d stuffed in the suitcase I’d left at Caspar’s.
“Fuck, I need to get my luggage from his room,” I breathed out, raking my hands through my hair.
“Hey. Easy.” Adam stepped closer, his voice a low, deep rumble. Like a blanket, it draped a calm over my body that didn’t waver even as he touched me, gently pulling my arms down to my sides.
“Tell me the room number and I’ll go get it,” he said.
“I’ll go with you,” I offered. Adam’s jaw ticked.
“You’re barely dressed, AJ,” he said. Hearing him acknowledge the fact in words brought heat to my cheeks, so I only nodded as he said, “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
Despite agreeing, I stared blankly for a little longer, so dazed again by everything that Adam brought me over to the bed, sitting me down before going to the mini bar and mixing me a whiskey ginger—what I always drank when I needed to pound a lot of something hard.
I watched as he then grabbed the remote, one-handing the buttons on his shirt as he turned on the TV. His eyebrows pulled together as he quickly scrolled the channels till he found one of my guiltiest pleasures: Catfish.
“There. Now sit here, breathe, and wait for me. Okay?” Adam said, taking my hand and wrapping it around the glass of booze. I nodded.
“Just… don’t hurt him, okay?” I asked with a wince. “Trust me, I fucking hate him and want nothing more than for him to get his ass beat into the ground, but he is absolutely the type to try and sue the shit out of you,” I said, opening the floodgates of my disgust for my ex. “So promise me, Adam… you can say whatever you want to him. Just don’t hit him.”
Sitting at the edge of the bed, I looked up at Adam pleadingly. His jaw noticeably ticked with irritation, but he nodded.
“Fair enough,” he said.
Then with his eyes still on me, he finished buttoning his shirt. But just as I felt a knot form in my throat, he turned around.
And off he went.
5
ADAM
No breaking his fucking jaw, I reminded myself on repeat, dragging my hand across my face as I got down to the third floor.
My brain was working overtime, because I was still furious, still seething over that worthless little shit Caspar, and at the same time, I was trying as hard as I could to erase what I just saw from my head.
But fuck, my brain was holding on hard to that image of AJ.
Her hands on my chest. The way she looked in that lacy fucking lingerie.
It definitely wasn’t the time to look, nor did I have any business looking because for Christ’s sake it was AJ and I wasn’t supposed to look at her like that.
But it was also completely goddamn impossible not to notice her body when she was nearly fucking naked. When her chest was heaving that hard as she looked up at me with those big brown eyes.
Jesus.
I felt every kind of fucked up there was right now, my mind jumping back and forth between the way she looked. How goddamned worthless he was.
He was already out of his league with her. And now this?
My jaw was clenched tight as I approached room three twenty-two. But as I rapped on the door, I gave myself a reminder. Rein in. No killing anyone, I told myself, getting about three knocks in before the door swung open.
