21. River

21

RIVER

I stood motionless in the storeroom, my hand hovering over a crate of lemons. I’d forgotten what they were for as I replayed it all again—the warmth of Adam’s touch, the unexpected connection between us that had surged like a live wire, the rightness I felt being with him.

It was ludicrous that Adam, my childhood friend, the same man with those piercing blue eyes that never seemed to hold anything but brotherly affection for me, had sought my touch like he was craving it more than his next breath.

I could still feel the roughness of his breath against my skin, every whispered word, every moan.

Disbelief didn’t quite describe my emotional state of mind. I’d accepted years ago that what I felt for Adam was more than friendship. I knew the exact moment I stopped seeing Adam as the kid from school with the blond straggly hair and started seeing him as a man. Noticed every single curve on his body, the way he pronounced certain words, or how he smelled.

We’d been fourteen, and I’d said yes to the kiss that had sealed my fate.

But the way my body reacted to his touch? I didn’t want to believe how deep it reached.

“River?” The chef’s voice cut through my reverie, sharp and impatient. “We needed those lemons ten minutes ago!”

“Sorry,” I muttered, finally grabbing a handful of the fruit. I gave a passing server the lemons and asked him to take them to the chef. If my time in hospitality had taught me anything, it was to stay out of the way of a crabby chef, and while ours was generally a great guy, he didn’t like to be kept waiting when he had work to do.

I slipped unseen to the front of the house, something I regretted immediately.

Drew’s complex moves with a cocktail glass hid how good he was at picking up social cues, which was why I’d tried to avoid him since he started his shift today. But I knew it was only a matter of time until he trapped me.

“Hey,” Drew said, his voice low enough not to carry, “everything okay with you tonight?”

I nodded, forcing my gaze toward the happy diners in the restaurant. “Yeah, just tired is all.”

“Uh-huh,” Drew replied, clearly unconvinced but respecting the boundary. “Fundraiser planning is going wild,” he added. “West is on a roll.”

“Really? That’s great. Will you tell me if you guys need any help?”

He gave me a sure before his lips curled into a smile. “You have company.”

I looked toward the restaurant door, my breath catching.

“So, you’re just tired, huh?” Drew muttered before Adam reached us, a hesitant smile on his lips.

“Hey, I thought I’d grab something to eat,” Adam said, placing his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “I didn’t feel like cooking.”

“Sure,” I exhaled. “You could have called. You know we deliver.”

“Sometimes,” he started, edging closer to the counter where I stood frozen, “you don’t know what you want until you see it.”

I had to bite my tongue to stop from reacting and giving myself away. Drew was extremely good at pretending he was doing something else when his entire focus was on something happening yards away. The man was the velociraptor of bartenders.

“And what are you in the mood for?” I managed to say, my voice steadier than I felt.

“Can I have the house steak? I’m in the mood for good quality meat.”

Drew snorted, so I grabbed Adam by the hand and led him to my office.

“Steak isn’t the kind of food you have delivered,” I said as the door clicked shut behind us. “If you’re a steak connoisseur, of course.”

Adam leaned back against my solid oak desk, his blue eyes dark with something that sent a shiver down my spine and made my underwear feel way too tight.

“River,” he said, his voice low and certain, pulling me into his orbit.

“Adam,” I began as I stepped forward, closing the gap with a resolve I hadn’t known I possessed. I got close enough that I could smell his body wash. Or, more precisely, my body wash. Fucker had been home and showered using my soap again.

Our lips met, the kiss an inevitable explosion I was starting to believe was the result of this constant spark between us.

Hands roamed, exploring now-familiar terrain. Clothes got in the way, but I wasn’t so far gone that I couldn’t keep ahold of myself. There were lines we couldn’t cross.

“God, River,” Adam murmured against his skin, “You drive me crazy?—”

“And I’m crazy for you,” I confessed, my breath hitching as Adam’s mouth found the sensitive spot just below my ear.

I reluctantly pulled back. The longer we stayed here, the more likely someone would walk in on us.

“I’ll wait up for you tonight,” he said, his gaze searching mine.

“Tonight?”

“Yeah,” he said, a smile playing on his lips. “When you’re done here, come home. I’ll wait up.”

“Okay.” I cradled his face, smiling as he closed his eyes and leaned into my touch.

“Let me get your order ready. What do you really want to eat?”

“I’ve already had dinner,” he replied casually.

I shook my head. “You’re cunning.”

“But I got to kiss you,” he said, holding my gaze a moment longer than necessary. “See you later?”

“Later.” I leaned against the desk as I watched him exit my office. I needed an extra couple of minutes to pull myself together.

Drew hit me with a knowing look, shook his head slightly, and returned to his tasks when I walked past the bar later. I ignored him. One day he’d have a taste of his own medicine because I was absolutely sure it was only a matter of time until the dam broke and Drew’s and West’s feelings for each other spilled out.

I spent the rest of the night helping between stations and talking to customers. I truly loved my job despite the long hours, and tonight’s constant stream of walk-ins and bookings was the perfect distraction from thoughts of Adam at home waiting for me.

He often read late into the night, although I’d never seen the light in his bedroom on when I came home after closing the restaurant, so I wondered if today would be different.

As soon as I stepped into the dimly lit hallway of my apartment, my belly sank a little. It was coming up on one in the morning, so I shouldn’t be surprised to find my place as quiet as it usually was at this time.

In the living room, the moonlight filtered through the blinds, casting long shadows over the furniture. No signs of an Adam that had stayed up late reading on the couch and then fallen asleep.

I made my way down the small hallway. His bedroom door was closed. I shouldn’t be disappointed, but it was a sign that I’d already allowed Adam to burrow too deep inside my heart. I couldn’t help the feeling.

Bypassing my room, I went straight to the bathroom and took a quick shower to get ready for bed. I’d never had to worry about moving around my place late at night, but since Adam moved in, I’d been more mindful of the noise because the bathroom was right across from his bedroom.

But as I walked past the threshold of my bedroom, there Adam was, sprawled across my bed, a peaceful expression softening his features.

He must have dozed off while waiting.

I leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, taking in the scene I’d so often imagined but never thought would happen. Adam’s chest rose and fell with the slow cadence of deep sleep, his breaths quiet whispers in the darkened room.

There was a book on the floor where his hand hung off the bed.

With careful movements, I sat on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under my weight. Adam stirred, a soft sigh escaping him, but he did not wake.

I slid under the covers, leaving a gap between us. Sleeping in the same bed was getting into even more dangerous territory than kissing or having sex, but after having a small taste of Adam, I couldn’t stop myself from wanting the whole thing.

I slid forward, ever so slightly, bridging the gap between us. At the same time, Adam shifted in his sleep as though he knew I was there. His back nestled against my chest, so I draped my arm around him, pulling him closer still.

I closed my eyes and breathed in the familiar scent that clung to Adam before placing a soft kiss on the back of his neck.

As sleep claimed me, I allowed myself to pretend this was my new future. Adam and I together, sharing a bed, waking up to each other every morning.