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For no reason at all, I screenshot that photo and keep it in my camera roll. Then I scroll a little further and come across a video on his feed. Immediately, I press play.
It’s Adam in a deep-blue button-down shirt and dark-brown slacks. He’s standing at the front of the church, holding a microphone in his hand. As he walks, he preaches, and while I’m not focusing so much on his words, I can’t take my eyes off the way he looks in that role. He’s so natural, pacing around the stage, inflecting on all the right words, keeping the attention of his audience. He’s clearly gifted in public speaking. Hell, even I want to believe in God after listening to this.
“What are you listening to?” he asks as he climbs back in the window, setting Roscoe down on the floor.
I hold up my phone to show him. “I didn’t know you were a preacher too.”
His face tightens in a grimace. “I’m not.”
“This looks like preaching to me.”
Without letting the expression relax, he walks over to me and takes my phone. Staring down at his own video, he scrutinizes it for a moment. “I’ve only done it a few times.”
“Did you like it?” I ask.
A beat of silence goes by before he nods. “Yeah, I did.”
Then he lifts his head and looks at me as if he’s been struck by an idea.
“You know…I was thinking,” Adam says. “We should film somewhere different.”
I slip my phone into my back pocket. “What’s wrong with my apartment?”
“Your apartment is fine, but I just figure we need to mix it up. Really give them something to talk about.”
I pour coffee into each cup on the counter, then a little cream in each, handing Adam’s to him. “You sound like you have something in mind,” I say with a playful smirk.
“I do.”
“And?”
I take my coffee to the linoleum table, where he’s already sitting.
“It’s a surprise,” he mumbles, blowing on his coffee.
“I love surprises,” I reply with a smile.
“It’s not enough to be fake dating and making sex tapes. I want to really hit him where it hurts. Spit in the face of everything he loves.”
His voice is dark and serious as he talks, and it pulls on my heart to see him struggling so much. Adam is going through something major. The nice guy who bought me breakfast last month would have never said anything so menacing. Reaching across the table, I place my hand on his.
“What happened yesterday?” I ask, remembering the way he called me in a panic, clearly upset by something.
“He came over.”
“And?” I gently pry.
His expression darkens as he stares downward at the coffee. “I wanted to knock him out. He tried to threaten me, control me, intimidate me.”
“Did you?”
He looks up at me, and there’s something burning in his expression, his gaze holding mine for a moment before he shakes his head and stands up. “No. I didn’t. But it’s clear he knows how to push my buttons, so I want to push his.”
My heart breaks for him again.
He takes a sip of his coffee, places the cup on the counter, and nods toward my bedroom. “Get cleaned up and let’s go.”
“So bossy,” I reply, taking another drink.
