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“I literally thought you’d never had a girlfriend before in your life.”
“Yeah, well. I did.”
“How long did you date?”
“Three years.”
“Holy shit.” I wasn’t sure why I was so taken aback, but this was blowing my mind. “So most of high school.”
“Yeah. Which I think is considered a decade in high school years.”
I managed a laugh. “Add Adam years to that equation and you were basically married.”
Adam snorted. “Basically.”
I looked at him, trying to gauge if he was actually agreeing with me or just repeating after me absently. Then I asked myself why the hell I was taking this so seriously.
“What was her name?” I asked directly before jumping at the sheer volume of his phone ringing through the Bluetooth of his car.
“Ah, Jesus. Fuckin’ Engelman
,” Adam muttered before picking up and getting immediately blasted with Engelman’s voice.
“What the hell is a date shake?” he asked, prompting Adam to groan and me to muffle a laugh.
“It’s a shake, Don. Made of dates. What the hell else would it be?”
I snorted, and as they talked, I checked my texts and work emails, all the while marveling over the fact that only Adam could get away with bitching and moaning and cursing on the phone with the head boss of bosses.
I tried not to laugh as the call stretched on, getting to that point in conversations that Adam hated. Silly stuff unrelated to work. Talking about golf and shooting the shit. It was like a saving grace when Adam’s friend Sully from law school just so happened to call.
“Don, hey. I gotta go, I got a call,” Adam said urgently, assuring Engelman he’d keep him post before hanging up and grinning broadly. “Sully. What’s up, brother.”
But the voice that came back wasn’t Sully. It was a woman’s voice—low and sultry, and dripping with sex while simply saying, “Hey, you.”
Adam and I paused as we stared at the screen. Judging by his quizzical expression, he didn’t recognize the voice. But it hit him quickly enough.
“Naomi,” he finally said.
“Mm-hm. Had to use Sully’s phone to get you to pick up. That’s not very nice,” Naomi said, though the undertones of her words were still very much I’d like you to fuck me—which was honestly fair enough considering they were strictly fuck buddies, and he’d canceled on her last-minute on Sunday night.
The night of that mind-blowing kiss.
That you should not be thinking about right now as he talks to a woman he’s slept with many more times than you, I thought while making a face at Adam, because I hated when he took personal calls on speaker without telling the other party that someone else was listening. Almost done, Adam mouthed as Naomi went on about the swanky hotel she booked.
“That sounds great, but now’s actually not a good time. I’m driving and—”
“Fine, then I’ll make it quick. I decided to extend my stay by a week, because I’m not leaving LA without getting fucked, specifically by you, so call me later, Maxwell, because my pussy’s been waiting,” she said, giving a sexy little “bye-bye” in singsong before hanging up and leaving me to stare ahead at the road for a few awkward seconds.
“So,” I said, solely to break the silence. “Schedule Naomi for Friday then?”
Adam gave a curt laugh. “I’m good.”
“Adam,” I snorted. “You don’t have to do this.”
“Do what?”
“Pretend you’re suddenly this pure angel who has no interest in sleeping with other women.”
