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“You were right,” Sage says, stealing my attention. “This place is the best.”
I glance up from my phone to see her sitting on my car, in my jacket, with ketchup on her face, looking infuriatingly cute and sexy at the same time.
Letting out a tense sigh, I pick up a napkin from the trunk and lean in, wiping the mess from her cheek. “You’re a mess,” I mumble.
She smiles in return, dimples piercing her cheeks. I narrow my eyes at her in a grimace as she beams.
I fucking hate it when she does that.
Sixteen
Sage
The car is quiet as Adam pulls up to the front of the Laundromat. His jacket is still wrapped around my shoulders. It’s past eleven, but I’ve been a night owl for so long that late hours barely affect me anymore.
He puts the car in park and lets his hands settle in his lap. I don’t climb out of the car just yet. I feel like he wants to say something, and part of me wonders if it’s going to be him backing out of the plan.
“Are you sure you want to go through with this?” I ask, my voice level and quiet.
“I’m sure.” His response is quick, which I don’t expect. I glance over to stare at his silhouette in the dark car, half of his face illuminated by the streetlights and neon signs.
Adam is always so stoic. Like he’s holding in his anger, burying it deep within himself, so now it’s etched into his DNA. This is the only way he knows how to be, which makes me want to rub my thumb into the crease between his brows until he lets that worry and anxiety melt away.
At times, he’s sweet. Charismatic. Like the morning in the diner or tonight as he proudly held me by his side. I have a feeling that was therealAdam, but he’s been so conflicted with duty and obligation his whole life; he’s been tricked into thinking he’s someone he’s not. And now that his father has pulled the morality rug from under him, Adam has turned into a powder keg ready to blow.
I wish I could heal him of all the pain he’s radiating.
“Will this make you feel better?” I ask. When he glances my way, I continue, “When you ruin your reputation to spite him. Will it make you happy? Able to move on?”
The crease in his brow deepens. “Does it matter?”
His tone is cold, reminding me that even after those small gestures of kindness and the bone-melting kisses tonight, Adam Goode still refuses to let me in. Ever since seeing his dad tonight, his entire mood’s darkened, and I can’t seem to get him back.
“Of course it does,” I reply.
“We’re not doing this to make ourselves feel good, Peaches. We’re doing this to tarnish his reputation.”
Reaching across the seat, I place my hand on his arm, my fingers sliding over the rich fabric of his black tuxedo. “It’s okay to do things because they feel good. That doesn’t make you a bad person.”
He looks first at my hand and then my face. Hearing what I just said, paired with how I’m touching him…I realize now that it looks like I’m soliciting something. So I quickly take my hand away.
Clearing my throat, I look out my window as I speak.
“We’ll start filming tomorrow. We can do it at my place.”
“Okay,” he replies, and when I glance back at him, I notice the angry crease has softened.
“Noon,” I add. To which he nods.
“Good night, Adam.”
Before he can even try to get out and open my door for me, I climb out. I barely make out his sayinggood nightbefore the door shuts and I’m alone on the street.
As I make my way to the front of the Laundromat, unlocking it with my key, I expect him to drive away. But he doesn’t. He waits for me to be safely inside before he takes off into the night.
* * *
“Why are you watching porn in my Laundromat?”
