stumble and fall forwards but somehow manage to correct my footing until my heel finds another crack, sending me lurching forward.
“ Shit , watch it, will you?” a familiar male voice growls. Looking up, my heart sinks.
“Adam,” I exclaim weakly. No fucking way. I stare at him helplessly, holding my now nearly empty cup limply in my hand as I watch the remnants of my drink drip down his shirt. How is it even possible that I’ve managed to do it again?
“Abbey,” he chuckles, his mouth breaking into a grin. He wipes his arms, then lifts up the bottom of his shirt—the only dry area—to mop up the coffee dripping down his neck. My stomach twists as I sneak a peek at his bare chest. My desire for him triples, if that’s even possible. Oh God.
“Man, you like pouring your coffee over me, don’t you?” He laughs, extending his arm to help me up. “Admit it, you like seeing me wet.”
Wet? My legs buckle at the thought. I can’t respond, because if I open my mouth, I’m going to embarrass myself—as if I haven’t done enough of that already.
“Where the hell have you been, anyway?” he asks, moving the conversation on. “You go from a daily customer to nothing?” He grabs the empty cup and examines it.
“So, you’re cheating on me, huh?” He raises one eyebrow and smiles, making me melt on the spot. “I thought I meant more to you than this, Abbey. I thought we had something.”
He’s teasing me, but I’m dying inside. If he had any idea of how badly I wanted him…I force a laugh and try not to sound like an idiot.
“I figured your safety was at risk with me around.” I look from him to my empty cup. “But it looks like you’re at risk anywhere. Nobody is safe with me on the streets,” I joke.
His beautiful eyes sparkle as he smiles at me, which sends my insides crazy. I fight the urge to just kiss him, something I’ve been wanting to do for months. It’s what Mel would do if she were me. She’d take charge and just go for it and deal with the consequences later. But I’m not her . And unfortunately, I have fear of rejection; the same fear that will make sure Adam never knows how I feel about him.
Stupid brain thinking it can protect itself from getting hurt.
Ugh. I’m such a mess.
I'm snapped out of my own thoughts by his voice.
“So, where are you heading in such a hurry anyway?” he asks casually.
Awkwardly, I brush my hair off my face and tuck it behind my ear, wishing I’d taken the time to at least comb it before leaving the house. I fall into step beside him and walk—in the opposite direction I was heading; but, oh well.
“Oh, just back home,” I say. “I just needed a caffeine hit. I have an article to write on a new type of orthopedic shoes,” I add. That’s a lie. What I really have to do is pour over a bunch of emails to find my next story.
“Tough at the top, hey?” he asks with a sly smile creeping onto his face. “You’re a great writer, Abbey. I know you’ll get where you want to be someday.”
I glance at him, surprised. He’s read my work? For a second I wonder if he knows about The Playbook. No, that’s impossible. He knows I write for Over Eighties , so he must be talking about that.
“Thanks,” I reply, suddenly feeling shy. He smiles, which makes me blush and tingle all at the same time. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before and don’t quite know how to handle it.
“Can I at least buy you another coffee?” he asks. “Since I’m wearing your last one and all.”
“Sure,” I say. It’s not like things can get any worse.
An hour later I trudge home, feeling deflated. As I let myself inside, I sigh. All the excitement of my new project has been overshadowed by running into Adam. Getting over my stupid little crush is going to be much harder than I thought. Seeing him today…I groan and throw myself onto the couch.
Going out for coffee with him was all sorts of wonderful, but it also highlighted how far out of my
“ Shit , watch it, will you?” a familiar male voice growls. Looking up, my heart sinks.
“Adam,” I exclaim weakly. No fucking way. I stare at him helplessly, holding my now nearly empty cup limply in my hand as I watch the remnants of my drink drip down his shirt. How is it even possible that I’ve managed to do it again?
“Abbey,” he chuckles, his mouth breaking into a grin. He wipes his arms, then lifts up the bottom of his shirt—the only dry area—to mop up the coffee dripping down his neck. My stomach twists as I sneak a peek at his bare chest. My desire for him triples, if that’s even possible. Oh God.
“Man, you like pouring your coffee over me, don’t you?” He laughs, extending his arm to help me up. “Admit it, you like seeing me wet.”
Wet? My legs buckle at the thought. I can’t respond, because if I open my mouth, I’m going to embarrass myself—as if I haven’t done enough of that already.
“Where the hell have you been, anyway?” he asks, moving the conversation on. “You go from a daily customer to nothing?” He grabs the empty cup and examines it.
“So, you’re cheating on me, huh?” He raises one eyebrow and smiles, making me melt on the spot. “I thought I meant more to you than this, Abbey. I thought we had something.”
He’s teasing me, but I’m dying inside. If he had any idea of how badly I wanted him…I force a laugh and try not to sound like an idiot.
“I figured your safety was at risk with me around.” I look from him to my empty cup. “But it looks like you’re at risk anywhere. Nobody is safe with me on the streets,” I joke.
His beautiful eyes sparkle as he smiles at me, which sends my insides crazy. I fight the urge to just kiss him, something I’ve been wanting to do for months. It’s what Mel would do if she were me. She’d take charge and just go for it and deal with the consequences later. But I’m not her . And unfortunately, I have fear of rejection; the same fear that will make sure Adam never knows how I feel about him.
Stupid brain thinking it can protect itself from getting hurt.
Ugh. I’m such a mess.
I'm snapped out of my own thoughts by his voice.
“So, where are you heading in such a hurry anyway?” he asks casually.
Awkwardly, I brush my hair off my face and tuck it behind my ear, wishing I’d taken the time to at least comb it before leaving the house. I fall into step beside him and walk—in the opposite direction I was heading; but, oh well.
“Oh, just back home,” I say. “I just needed a caffeine hit. I have an article to write on a new type of orthopedic shoes,” I add. That’s a lie. What I really have to do is pour over a bunch of emails to find my next story.
“Tough at the top, hey?” he asks with a sly smile creeping onto his face. “You’re a great writer, Abbey. I know you’ll get where you want to be someday.”
I glance at him, surprised. He’s read my work? For a second I wonder if he knows about The Playbook. No, that’s impossible. He knows I write for Over Eighties , so he must be talking about that.
“Thanks,” I reply, suddenly feeling shy. He smiles, which makes me blush and tingle all at the same time. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before and don’t quite know how to handle it.
“Can I at least buy you another coffee?” he asks. “Since I’m wearing your last one and all.”
“Sure,” I say. It’s not like things can get any worse.
An hour later I trudge home, feeling deflated. As I let myself inside, I sigh. All the excitement of my new project has been overshadowed by running into Adam. Getting over my stupid little crush is going to be much harder than I thought. Seeing him today…I groan and throw myself onto the couch.
Going out for coffee with him was all sorts of wonderful, but it also highlighted how far out of my
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