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But I was realizing now that I always said “we” because I knew I needed AJ’s help.
Aside from the fact that Holland loved her, she was the only one who kept my head on straight. She called me out when I ignored Holland’s calls for too long. She refused to let me slack on my role as a brother, which made her basically the glue that kept what little family life I had left together.
Considering all the shit my sister had been through, I knew it meant everything to her.
But I’d just put all of it at risk to indulge my own pleasure.
Palming my hand over my head, I got out of bed, cursing myself a little before getting into the bathroom. Splashing some water on my face, I looked up at my reflection.
Alright, asshole.
Time to stop fucking around.
15
AJ
I woke up this morning feeling uncertain. In a bit of a limbo.
Yesterday had technically been a success in that Adam and I had finally started talking again. It was clear we’d restored the back-and-forth bickering aspect of our relationship, but it was also clear we had yet to reach normal, since we were bickering about the most sexual topics possible.
But I told myself that was natural.
Because the other night had been crazy. Absolutely wild and insane, and understandably, we needed time to react. Acting like it never happened would be like keeping that wall of miscommunication up between us, so in order to truly move on, we had to acknowledge the fact that we’d had sex.
Hence yesterday’s dirty talk warfare in Adam’s office.
Slash the reason that I may or may not have brought an extra pair of panties in my purse today.
I was convinced that didn’t mean anything though. Had that conversation turned me on? Yes. Did I still find Adam deathly attractive? Yes. But were we far enough past the hump of awkwardness for me to be myself again at the office?
Totally.
In fact, I had high hopes for today to be our first official day back to normal, and I was only further encouraged when I got out of the shower to find the usual text Adam sent on the Saturdays that he made me come into the office.
ADAM: Put your order in now or you’re getting French toast
I snorted.
The Saturday routine was that Adam played a game of basketball before heading into the office. I usually worked remote for limited hours on these days, but in the event that he needed me in person, the agreement was that he had to buy me baked French toast or some other delicious meal from his secret breakfast spot that literally everyone at the office had tried for years to get him to divulge.
But because Adam liked having a place to sit before work where he ran into absolutely no one from Engelman, he never told and had sworn me to secrecy as well.
Hilariously enough, the place was no hotspot. It was just Gizzy’s Kitchen in Santa Monica, a small, super casual cafe that looked like a little beach shack. It was definitely worlds different than Adam’s usual kind of restaurant and I knew he was treated like a king there, because whenever I was tasked to pick up our food because he was busy, the waitresses all asked me about him, and the owner was so eternally wrapped around Adam’s pinky that she was willing to cook pretty much whatever he wanted.
It was one of the rare times Adam’s killer smile benefited me as well. I could request literally anything right now and the last Saturday I worked, I’d done exactly that, having been in a weirdly sudden and aggressive mac and cheese mood.
But today, I went with the usual.
ME: It’s a French toast kind of morning
ME: Should I remind you how I take mine?
ADAM: No need to insult my intelligence.
ME: Sorry it’s just last time you forgot the whipped cream
ADAM: That wasn’t me that was the kitchen and they were slammed
