53

Adam

An Unwanted Free Day

Damn, if I would've known Piper's parents were coming, I would've had my nice slacks pressed. My hand went instinctively to my basketball shorts and Romans t-shirt. I could do better. My suits were all hung up. I needed something really good.

The thing was, I'd never met a girl's parents before.

Not that Piper and I —she didn't see me like that. But you only meet someone's parents once. I wanted to make a good impression. And a good impression didn't mean fucking basketball shorts.

"They're coming…right now?" I asked, trying to think how fast I could wash a load of laundry.

What if I just throw it in the sink with some detergent?

"Yeah. Um…I'm showing them around campus and we're getting dinner tonight at Gianna's . I even called in for reservations, five o'clock sharp. They said it's going to be busy." She inched her way to the elevator, still blushing hard. "I'm sorry. I should've told you. Thank you so much for doing the door decorations. You didn't have to do that."

"No worries." I chuckled. "Didn't take that long."

"That's awesome. Really." She pressed the button for the elevator and turned back. "And you're going to be okay today, right? It's a free day, you get a break from me hanging over you."

A break?

I paused, door decoration in hand.

When she said we…she didn't mean…me?

Piper told me about her plans just to break the news. I wasn't included. A weird feeling settled above my stomach. I reached out to place my hand on the wall behind me, all casual, and I missed it by an inch and a half, stumbling back.

Fuck .

"Yeah." I cleared my throat. "It's going to be fun. Get some…time off."

The relief was instant on her face. "Oh my god, good. This is going to sound so stupid, but I was really worried about—um—telling you."

"Why would you be worried?" I forced a grin on my face. "But I mean—wouldn't it be better to have me there, just to put a face to the stories?"

Pathetic .

Piper threw more and more glances over her shoulder like I was a puppy that couldn't be left alone for more than an hour. She twisted her hands. "I—I haven't told them about…um…"

"About what?"

"About the…whole…thing?"

She hasn't told her parents anything about me?

"I just broke up with a football player and now…" The elevator doors opened, and slowly, she walked inside. "They're academics and I love them—but they can be…they wouldn't understand about the…babysitting thing."

I drew in a slow breath. She hadn't told her parents at all. Because that's what I was, the big, embarrassing dude who made a scene everywhere he went, not suitable for general audiences, and definitely not someone you bring to meet mom and dad. It's why she kept her socials on private. It's why she stayed out of every picture.

Piper held her arm out, holding the doors open. "You're going to be okay, right?"

She's asking if you can remember to shut off the stove after you use it .

"All great," I assured her, hoping my expression didn't betray anything. "Have fun."

What the hell am I supposed to do while you're gone?

"Thank you, Adam." She sighed with relief again. "Don't forget the interview!"

The doors shut with finality and I stared at them, still in that incredibly awkward position. I brought my hand away from the wall, thinking it over. I had a free day. A totally free day. I could do anything I wanted. And Hebe was right, I hadn't thrown a party in ages.

Fuck it. Let's party.

I scrolled through the contacts on my phone and started creating a mass message. Piper's parents would get to see the deluxe package.

Slowly, I lowered my phone.

I didn't want to throw a party. I didn't even want the free day.

Piper's words rang in my head. Her parents were academics and they wouldn't understand me, the big clown. I wanted them to see more than that.

In an instant, I pulled up Cleo's number.

"Adam," Cleo said with a sigh. "What's this I hear about Ruthless being signed up for clown college?"

"Jesus Christ, don't call him Ruthless," I muttered. "It's Elijah Contractor. He's got a big enough ego already." My voice dropped. "Who the hell decided to call him Ruthless anyway? They should called him Useless."

"A hockey player from Louisiana called him Bitchless and Elijah wore a shirt with the guy's face on it, captioned my bitch ," Cleo answered automatically. "What would you call that?"

"I'd call him a snitch for one."

"Uh-huh. Adam, he didn't tell me you signed him up for clown college."

I frowned. "What? But you just said—"

"No, I just found out someone did, and it took one guess for who did it. You. But I couldn't confirm it until you told me. Thank you for confirming my suspicions."

Goddammit. Got me.

"Contractor annoys the shit out of me," I complained. "And Sloane needs to get a restraining order."

"The only reason you don't like him is because of the Marrs Manwhore hoodie," she pointed out. "And Sloane hasn't filed any kind of complaint and she even helped with—never mind—Adam, what do you want? Make it quick, I have a meeting."

"I have an interview tonight—"

Cleo sucked in a breath. "If you cancel, I strap you to the hood of my car and drive you there myself."

"Not canceling," I quickly said.

"You're not?"

"No." Slowly, I walked back to my room and pushed my door open. I had a couple of hours. Plenty of time to contact a dry cleaner. "Cleo, could I move it up?"

"Move what up?"

"My interview."

There was an audible pause over the line. "Is this a prank?"

"No."

"But…? You want to move up an interview?"

"Yeah." I nodded as if she could've seen it. "What about five o'clock at Gianna's? "