56

Piper

All Hypothetical

What is Adam doing here?

Every two minutes, I tried to yawn or stretch or drop my phone on the table, anything for a chance to check out Adam in his interview. He knew I'd be here tonight. As well as I knew he liked all his interviews after seven o'clock because he refused any that messed with his eating schedule.

"You're staring again," my mother said.

"Huh? What?"

My dad raised an eyebrow. "So, who is this man?"

I debated telling them for a long moment, but I had to say something . My neck was starting to cramp from how many stolen looks I'd attempted. And he wasn't easy to ignore.

I couldn't remember the last time I saw Adam in a suit. Maybe the RA conference? But even then, it'd only been dry for a couple of minutes before I shoved him in the pool. And this one looked so much better. Clean-cut, form-fitting, it showed off his broad shoulders and his muscles. Complete eye candy.

For…anyone else here .

"He's a resident on my floor," I explained. My parents looked at me expectantly, waiting for the other end of the sentence, but I couldn't tell them everything. I bit the inside of my cheek. "And I'm…I'm a little…worried about him."

"About him?" my dad repeated, surprised. "He looks like he can take care of himself."

My mom took my hand in hers. "That's very sweet of you. You've always been like that. Who you got it from, I have no idea."

Always being attracted to emotionally unavailable men? Thanks, mom.

But that wasn't the whole truth either. Because I was worried about him. I dug my fingers in my palm, wrestling with an inner question. What could I tell my parents that I knew they could keep secret?

"I have something to ask you guys, but you have to promise to never tell anyone, ever ," I said.

"So serious." My mom laughed. "What has gotten into you?"

"You've got it, kiddo," my dad agreed.

I twisted my hands in my lap. There was no one else I could talk about this with, and it'd been sitting heavily on my mind for a while. "Let's say I did a sport in high school…"

It was my mom's turn to grin. "A reading sport?"

"My allergies are terrible, but I would've shown up to support," my dad said. "I can't say how grateful I am that you never did the throwing ball activities. You know, the fact that the allergies are so bad is because they choose to only plant—"

I couldn't get my brainiac parents on a roll with warmer temperatures and how drought and dryness affected seasonal allergies. I held up a hand and both of them fell quiet. "What if I did a sport in high school and I got hurt during practice? Like hurt, really, really badly."

My mom straightened up. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about an injury that I probably would've needed surgery for," I blurted out. "Something really bad. And my coach told me that I had to walk through it. If I didn't, I was kicked off the team. What would you two have done?"

For a moment, they were quiet. They glanced at each other and I could see how worried they were, how long the lines on their faces stretched.

"Kiddo." My dad took his elbows off the table. "If someone hurt you, you need to tell us."

"Not me," I said quickly. "All hypothetical."

" All hypothetical?" my mom pressed. She could always see right through me.

"No…" I hesitated. "It happened to…somebody I know."

Don't look at Adam. Don't look at Adam. Don't look at Adam.

"There's rules against that, kiddo," my dad said gently. "Laws about that too. Child labor, protection for kids, and if this injury happened at a school-sponsored activity, you'd have witnesses. I seriously doubt that happened. If someone told you this story, I would think about the credibility of that person. An injury like that isn't something you can hide. Especially from their parents."

"Maybe they meant like a mentor instead had been hurt?" my mom suggested.

Their first thought was one I hadn't even considered. It wasn't like Adam had never lied to me before. But I thought about him, leaning back against the bar, and the casual way he told me. I thought about how often he spouted off one of those awful sayings from his high school coach and how much I had to resist muttering something every time he did. And even if Ryan and Kassie basically confirmed it, I had a sneaking suspicion that Adam wasn't telling me everything.

What's the probability that Adam is telling the truth?

"No, it happened," I said, my voice soft, with every bit of conviction I had. "I just wanted to know…what would you have done? If it happened to me?"

My dad hung back in his chair, contemplating it. "I'd sue that coach until he couldn't afford shoes. He'd never work again."

My mom shook her head. "Piper, your father's an archaeologist. He's professionally dug up plenty of bodies, I'm sure the two of us could put one in the ground together."

"That's good too," my dad agreed.

It was instantaneous. They were united so easily. They would've protected me and made sure it never happened again. My heart squeezed painfully in my chest. My parents would've done anything for me. Especially if that happened.

But the thing was, they were right. There had to have been witnesses. You can't just hide an injury like that. And Adam never talked about his parents, but they had to have found out. Right? I ran my nails on the inside of my palm, looking at my soda.

Did Adam cover for his coach?

Did his parents seriously not know, after all of these years?

"Hey."

The single word jolted me in my seat and I jerked up to see Adam, standing right next to our table. He stood with furrowed eyebrows, a set jaw, a serious expression on his face that I very rarely saw.

My parents turned from me and faced him.

Oh no.

"It's nice to meet you," Adam said, in his regular speaking voice. Not the hyped-up one for practice or the cocky one from his interviews, but just his own voice, smooth and husky. "My name's Adam and I apologize about the scene earlier." He shifted back on his leg, focusing all on them. "I just wanted to say, Piper's my resident assistant and she's been helping me a lot this semester. More than she knows."

My lips parted. I didn't know what to say.

"She's a great RA and we're lucky to have her." His eyes flickered to mine for half a second. "I'm lucky to have her…across the hall from me. So, it was nice to meet you. Have a good rest of your night."

With that, Adam turned and walked away towards the bar. My heart hammered in my chest like I'd run a mile. I couldn't speak if I wanted to.

"Piper?" My mom raised her eyebrows. "Is he…?"

Please don't ask. Of course he's the boy who got hurt .

She pressed her lips together. "Is he Potential Sperm Donor?"

I blushed hard and my mom turned her curious expression back to my dad. Oh my god.

They could read me like a book. They knew he was. They absolutely knew he was. There was no hiding it. And the rest of the night would be a million questions about him, this potential sperm donor that lived right across from the hall.

Unless I had a smooth-talking criminal to help ease into the conversation.

My eyes lifted towards Adam, propped against the bar, paying the tab for his interview. I needed to answer my mom but I needed something else too.

I thought about how Adam had looked before the elevator's doors closed in front of me.

He wanted to come tonight .

The realization took me off-guard. The Marrs Manwhore wanted to…come to dinner? No, he couldn't have. There were way better things the playboy could've done with his time. I didn't believe it. But if I didn't believe it so much, why was I pushing up out of my chair? Why was I weaving my way through the tables, heading to him?

"Adam?" I called. He glanced over his shoulder. "I know you probably have some…crazy party to go to tonight. I don't know what you have planned. But I was wondering if—um—if you wanted to come have—uh—dinner with—?"

"Yeah," he said before I'd even finished with the question. "Yeah. I could do that."

"Are you…sure?"

But Adam already passed me, heading back towards our table. He straightened his jacket before he sat down and pulled out my seat farther when I came close. I didn't know how to feel, all I knew was my throat was closed a little, and I was a little too embarrassed to give him the introduction he probably needed to my parents.

"So…" My mom took a sip of her drink. "You're the potential sperm donor."