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“If you want me to stay away from you right now then you need to stop doing that,” Adrian’s deep voice causes my eyes to flick up to his.
“Stop doing what?” I ask, nervously.
“Biting your lip,” he all but growled, and I immediately let go of my lip that I hadn’t even known I was biting.
It’s very apparent by the strain in his jeans that I affect him in the same way he affects me. I’ve only ever experienced the type of push and pull with someone that has never been equal. Being with him feels like sitting on a grenade, and any moment the pin could be pulled and we both go up in flames. The problem with a flame that burns hot and fast is that it will burn out at some point, and there’ll be nothing left.
Staring at all that lush hair, dreamy eyes, and those abs I know are hiding under his gray t-shirt, my judgment isn’t so clouded that I’m remiss about what exactly he wants with me. I’m a forty-three year old mom with a teenage daughter, and years of baggage that has prevented me from getting close to anyone.
I have to know. “What do you think you're doing?” I ask him.
His once playful demeanor turns serious, and I don’t give him a chance to answer.
“I’m forty-three years old,” I say, pinching my eyebrows together.
“I know how old you are, Lake.” He levels his gaze on me and when I don’t continue, he asks, “What does that matter?”
“You’re thirty-one.” Frustrated that he doesn’t seem to get it, I pivot against the doorframe, heading out to the hallway before he catches up, and grabs my arm to stop me.
“You want mystatistics, Lake?” He asks but doesn’t wait for me to answer. “I’ve worked hard all my life. I’m not under the delusion that I’m going to make it as a professional musician, and I even went to college.” He must see the shock cross my face no matter how hard I try to suppress it because he explains further. “Yes, Lake, I’m not just some rock star wannabe, I have a business degree so I could make sure Corvin & Son is sustainable because my family depends on it.”
“Despite what you think,” I say as I look around my home, “I’m not a snob.” I shake my head, embarrassed. I never wanted to make Adrian feel as if I’m looking down on him.
“I didn’t tell you all of that to make you feel bad,” he explains. “I just want you to know who I am.”
Despite all of that, there is this barrier inside of me that I won’t cross. “None of that matters.” I shrug, searching his eyes.
“You’re using our age difference as an excuse,” he says in frustration.
“There’s more to it than just age, Adrian,” I say, walking away because it’s too much, too soon. In my haste to create distance from him I forget to look out for the broken tile and stub my toe. “Fuck!” I yell, hopping on one foot, and stumbling to the kitchen stool.
Adrian kneels in front of me, taking my foot in his hand and inspecting my toe for damage. The only thing that seems to be bruised at the moment is my ego. His fingers wrap around my ankle, holding my foot flat on his thigh as he leans down to plant a kiss on the tip of my toe. Looking down at him, it’s hard to deny that I have feelings. It’s hard not to when he does things like this, but my reservations are valid.
“I don’t want to be made a fool of,” I whisper, pulling my foot from his grasp, and he rises in front of me with a serious expression.
“I wouldnevermake a fool of you,” he says with such sincerity that I almost believe him. Iwantto believe him, but in my head, I’m cataloging this as lie number seven, but it still doesn’t stop me from wanting it, wantinghim.
“If this were a thing,” I pause to take a breath because I feel as though I’m assuming what he wants rather than what I want, “I’m in a different place in life than you, and I have more to worry about than just myself,” I explain as I look up him, so fucking pretty and so fucking willing to give me anything I want. The conversation I had with Georgie circles like a helicopter around in my brain. There is no reason I can’t have fun, especially if it’s in the form of Adrian Corvin.
He waits for me to continue with his arms crossed over his chest, the black lines of his tattoo straining along with his muscles. “What I mean is,” I stand up from the chair, so we are at least on somewhat equal level even though my toe is throbbing, “if you’re going to fuck me,” I say, noticing his Adam’s apple bob with a tight swallow, “then you fuckonlyme.” Images of Taylor in her red dress at the wedding keep crossing my mind. Adrian made it clear that he and Taylor are done. Although I don’t want anything serious with him, I don’t want to be made a fool of.
“Those are the terms?” Adrian asks, caging me in with his arm stretched over to rest on the kitchen island behind me. His close proximity makes my head spin, but I hold my own.
“This doesn’t need to be anything more than what it is,” I tell him, the small of my back digging into the counter behind me.
“And what is this?” he asks, gesturing between us.
It’s hard to explain what’s happening, but I’m not willing to give more… but I also don’t want it to end. “Casual,” I say. “Nothing serious.”
“Just fun,” he confirms, pulling away and rubbing the hair on his chin pensively.
He should be excited that I’m not looking for a relationship. Isn’t that every guy’s ideal relationship? To fuck without commitment?
“You can’t tell your family about us,” I say, firmly.
“I’m not in the habit of telling my sisters who I fuck,” Adrian says as he licks his lips, and the word ‘fuck’ coming from his mouth causes my stomach to tighten, “but I don’t like lying to them either.”
Rounding the island I put more distance between us and bite my fingernail nervously. “Understood.” I grab the discarded coffee cup and dump the contents in the sink to give myself something to do. It doesn’t stop me from sneaking secret looks at him. At least I don’t have to wonder what he’s thinking because he seems to have no problem voicing what he wants. The way he’s looking at me… it’smehe wants.
