18. Adam

18

ADAM

I could have gone to Janus’s or Fabian’s to escape the press attention at my apartment but for some reason, I’m here. And how could I inflict this media nonsense on them? Fabian refuses to get on anyone’s radar, and at least Anna’s in this with me. I’m telling myself that staying here also allows me to keep an eye on her, but that’s bullshit, clearly. This is a woman who travels around the world on her own. The shiny elevator doors wink at me as I wait, and I turn to study the lobby. Nevertheless, she’s here by herself, and what security does she have apart from a guy on the front desk? It would actually be so easy for somebody to get in.

Being here a couple of nights ago and waking up knowing someone else was in the same apartment made my chest ache in an unfamiliar way. I’ve gotten so used to living on my own. And when I took Pepper out to do her business, the idea of buying stuff for pancakes hit me. There was another person to do it for. When did I last make pancakes? A fuck of a long time ago. I don’t do it for myself, and I haven’t invited any friends over for breakfast in ages. I think Janus and Jo have been to my place once for brunch.

And why is that, Adam?

It’s the same reason I don’t ask Janus for help. I’m embarrassed. I’m thirty- two, living in a tiny, rented apartment, and my business is going under. I studied electronics and computer science. I could be on a fat salary working for a bank, squirreling money away, and already sitting on a tidy sum. Am I such a sad sack that making breakfast for someone else is a thrill?

When did I become a hermit? In the conversation about the first event I attended with Anna, Janus told me I should get out more. But as my company has struggled, I’ve put more and more time into it and less and less time into anything else. It’s been a long slow slide. I haven’t even seen Janus and Fabian much over the last couple of years. Although Fab does turn up every so often to check on me.

When I arrive at Anna’s floor, she’s in a gap between interviews and I lean in to kiss her cheek inhaling the familiar smell of roses. I dump my bag on the floor and follow her into the kitchen.

“You went home for your clothes?” she says, smiling at me.

“Susie went to my apartment and got a load of stuff for me and brought it to the office. She told the wolves I was going away for a few days to avoid their bullshit doorstepping tactics.” I laugh. “Those were her actual words.”

Anna takes a beer from the fridge, hands it to me, and starts making herself a ginger tea.

“So … you’re stocking beer now?” I grin at her, and she flaps a hand at me.

I gesture back toward the elevator. “Have you thought any more about getting a bodyguard for yourself, Anna?”

She makes a face as she fills her mug with boiling water. “It restricts your life quite a lot because you have to decide if you want twenty-four-hour security, and then whether you’re ever going out without them.” She grimaces again.

I can see that, and I don’t want to push her. I don’t feel like I have the right to do that. A book is sitting on the counter next to her tea: Anna Karenina.

“A bit of light reading?” I say, picking it up, and she flashes me a grin.

“I’ve never read it, and Tolstoy is kind of compulsory in Russia. I never had the time.”

Her yoga pants and a soft top are draped over all her tight muscles. I’ve watched some videos of her matches, my jaw slack at the power behind her thumping shots over the net and the hundred-and-thirty-mile-an-hour serves. How strong is she? I said I’d teach her jujitsu .

“How about I take you to a jujitsu class while I’m here?”

“Oh! I’d love that!” She swings around beaming, then wrinkles her nose. “A class? Do you think that would work?”

I think of the club where I train in Midtown. Yeah, she’s right: It would be a shit show if the two of us went there.

“Perhaps you can give me a private lesson? I’ve got a gym here.”

I laugh. Of course she has. Hidden behind the myriad of doors.

I rub my hands together. “I can do that.” I’m not sure why the idea of throwing her around appeals so much, but I haven’t had the chance to work out for a few days. “What’s happening with your tennis training at the club? Is the press there, too?”

“Yeah. It’s a hassle. The paparazzi have been here and there every morning. Fortunately, the tennis facility is fairly impregnable, and the management has been very accommodating. I’ve given them some money for extra security.” She shrugs. “We could employ some security for your place, too, you know.”

I blow out a breath. “The security is poor, but I don’t know how it would work at the building I live in. There’s no lobby space, nowhere where a security guard could sit or stand, apart from outside the door.”

Part of me doesn’t want to talk about what my apartment in the Meatpacking District is like, and I certainly don’t want her funding security for me. It’s bad enough that Janus is paying for my PR, although Carly has been an absolute godsend. What would I have done without her?

“Someone got into the building yesterday. They tried to jimmy my front door open. Fortunately, the guy who lives next door caught them and called the police.”

She swings around, eyes wide. “Oh God, Adam, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to worry you. Susie sorted it out. She got some man in to put better locks on my door. She’s talked to all the neighbors, who are pissed off, but more with the press than with me. I’ve been a good neighbor to a lot of them. I’ve lived there a long time. ”

“I’m so pleased I persuaded you to stay here now. I’m sure I’m sounding like a broken record, but I’m so sorry.”

I reach out, curling my fingers over her arm, just stopping myself from jerking back at the hard muscles and smooth skin under my hand. “We both went into it with the best of intentions. It seemed logical to me after that first event. Neither of us could have foreseen what’s happened since.”

She nods. “I know. Doesn’t always feel like that when you’re in the thick of it, though.”

“True. Have you eaten?”

“Okay, this is going to sound a little strange. You made me pancakes on Saturday morning, but in the normal run of things, I have five very specific meals every day, developed by my nutritionist. I got her to double them up while you’re here.” She peeks at me. “Is that okay?”

I laugh. “That sounds amazing. Eating like an athlete. Are they weird?”

“Not at all. They’re just designed to give me the right balance of nutrients and fuel my training and muscle mass appropriately.”

“Then I’m down. I’m not fussy about food.”

She smiles. “How about a jujitsu lesson before we eat?”

“Sounds good to me.”

Anna gives me a little tour of the apartment this time and shows me to the same bedroom I stayed in three nights ago. She also does a detour via her study and tells me to make free use of it. Heading back to my room, I shrug into a top and shorts and come out to find her waiting for me in the living room in her yoga pants from earlier and a form-fitting sports vest that leaves her shoulders bare. We head up one floor in her penthouse to another living room and a gym with a bathroom off to one side, overlooking a beautifully manicured outdoor space on the roof. It’s got all sorts of equipment, including a huge soft black mat. Perfect.

“This is gorgeous.”

“I bought this apartment when I got my first competition check. It felt important to have a home outside Russia. The building was new at the time, and I got a good deal. Sometimes they want somebody with a name in the building; it supposedly gives them cachet. They’re not supposed to let on who lives here, but people know.”

Interesting. “You said you’d done some martial arts in the past?”

“Judo. At school. I learned some of the basics.”

“Before you decked someone.” I grin at her, and she laughs. “I’m quite nervous about what you might do to me,” I say, but she shakes her head at me.

I rub my hands together. “Okay, let’s talk jujitsu. It’s a ground-based martial art, so initiating and defending takedowns is a large part of the skillset. The idea is to collect points and, if possible, make your opponent submit. Most of the sport is about defense, certain holds, submissions, and learning to escape.” I wink at her, and she smiles at me.

“Could be useful for tennis,” she says. “Submissions? I’m starting to understand why you like it.” She winks back at me.

I raise my eyes to the ceiling. “Are you going to be a troublesome student?” I say, my gaze dropping to her grinning face, and I have to stop myself from focusing on her mouth. “I’m going to run through some basic moves and holds, okay? The first thing to learn is a takedown. Your job in jujitsu is to avoid positions where your opponent can score points.”

I put my hand on her warm shoulder, and even just in gripping her the muscle and power is so evident. That shouldn’t be sexy, but it is. I close my eyes. It’s getting hard to ignore all the things I notice about Anna that I shouldn’t. The way her dark hair catches the light, the curve of her lips when she finds something funny. I hope staying here isn’t going to be a mistake.

“So, the aim of this session is for you to take me down.”

She steps forward, and in about a nanosecond her leg has wrapped around the back of mine and I’m on the mat. I blink up at her. It’s such a basic move, and I didn’t even see it coming. I’d forgotten what a competitor she is.

“Like that?” she says, a broad grin stretching her mouth. Then she laughs. “It’s a takedown in judo, too.”

“That’s the one and only time you’ll take me by surprise.” Seeing her wild grin makes my chest hot, my pulse too fast like I’ve been running. She’s ballsy, Anna, in all the best ways. When I see her like this, I realize I haven’t seen a lot of joy on her face.

“Ooh, smack talk now.” She fakes a boxer dancing on the balls of her feet and punches her fists into midair. “Come on, Adam, fight me.”

I smile up at her. “You’re a joker.”

I hold out my hand for her to help me up, and as soon as she takes it, I take her down and pin her to the mat on her front. She lands with a surprised oof , all her muscles tensed under mine. I mustn’t get turned on—that would be a disaster. Fuck, what was I doing offering to teach her something like this? You were thinking you were her friend, you idiot.

“Lesson number one,” I say, inhaling the rose scent that I like so much, “don’t give an inch to your opponent. If he or she spots an advantage, they’ll exploit it.”

“I asked for that, didn’t I?” she grumbles underneath me, sounding a bit breathless.

I lift back off her before I do anything embarrassing, like kiss her neck, which is right under my chin.

“Did I wind you?”

“Crushed a few ribs I think,” she says, pressing her fingers along her side.

I narrow my eyes at her. “Do I trust what the lady is telling me? You just took me down.”

She grins. “Maybe not. I’ve had a lot of injuries over the years, so go gentle on me.”

I wave a hand at her. “Yeah, yeah. Spin me another one. This is worse than fighting with Fabian.”

“Your friend from college? The hacker? What did he do?”

“He tried to gouge my eyes out.”

She laughs.

“No, he actually did. It wasn’t funny at all. I had to knee him in the balls. He said that, if I got attacked on the street, that’s what they’d try and do. Said it had to feel real or I wouldn’t fight hard enough. He taught me to fight dirty.” I laugh. “It’s been surprisingly useful. I hope you’re not going to knee me in the balls.” I raise my eyebrows at her, and she grins.

“Can’t promise anything,” she says.

“I’ve changed my mind. I’m not teaching you. I value my balls.”

She suddenly lunges for me, and the tips of her fingers whisper over my crotch before I smack her hand away as my jaw drops. Whoa! She’s not giving an inch. And fuck, I love it. I haven’t been surprised like this in a very long time. But my cock is way too interested in what just happened; it hasn’t been handled by a woman in a very long time, either, and I’m dangerously close to getting an erection. Her foot swipes out as she tries to take me down, and I make a grab for it, but she’s so fucking strong she’s out of my grip before I can get a hold of her. It’s like sparring with a guy. I use a more complicated maneuver and pin her under me again, hips just off her backside this time. Jesus.

“Anna. Jesus. What are you doing?”

“Fighting. Isn’t that the aim?” she pants.

“I thought the idea was that I was teaching you?” And there’s that scent that makes me want to sink my teeth into her neck. Where are these thoughts coming from? Most of the time when I’m with her I’ve got total control over it. And I want to groan: what an admission!

“It’s a competition, isn’t it?”

I chuckle. “Not while you’re training. We need to warm up, and I want to teach you the basic moves.”

“Okay, get off me. I’ll behave.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I trust you?”

She laughs.

I lever off her and stand up. “Let’s do some warm-ups. Just follow me.”

Lying on my back, I start rolling around on the floor. She instantly follows what I’m doing. I use one leg to push myself around in arcs, back still on the mat.

“A lot of floor work, eh?” she says.

“Yeah. Now bridge up and twist. ”

We do a few more of those, then I say, “I’m going to teach you how to shrimp.”

“Shrimp?”

“Yeah, watch me.” She sits up, and I turn onto my side and bend my legs, one behind the other, pushing myself backward in circles again, pivoting on my shoulder while Anna grins at me.

“I’m liking all this new terminology I’m learning.” Lying down, she copies me. “I saw you do a move similar to this in one of your matches.”

I roll to my back and start egg-beating my feet. “Okay?”

“Yeah, this is excellent for hips.” She laughs. “My coach would kill me if he could see me right now.”

“Seriously?” I sit up.

“It’s fine, Adam, yeesh. Sometimes I want to do things that aren’t part of the treadmill of what’s right for tennis.”

“Let’s do some guarding exercises.” I cross my legs at the ankle, bring them to my chest and extend them out again. “This move is your friend. It’s the core of jujitsu.”

I sit up and study her form as she copies me. She’s picking this up so fast.

“Okay, basics first,” I say. “We’re going to practice some defensive moves.”

Anna sits up and rubs her hands together. “I’m looking forward to this.”

“I’m going to teach you a trap and roll. You’re on your back on the floor, and I’m on top of you like this.” I climb over her and straddle her hips.

She’s warm between my thighs, smiling up at me. Fuck. I’m teaching her in a quiet apartment, all amped up for a fight.

“Reach up,” I say.

“Like this?” She stretches her arm up toward my face, and I stretch down and tap the side of her face. Something about the position and her earnest expression … I’m starting to get hard. I adjust my pelvis.

“My hand is nowhere near your face,” she says.

“Exactly. That’s why this is such a dangerous position with anyone whose reach is greater than yours.”

And I can’t help it, all this rolling around with her. It’s so long since I had sex, and it’s her ! My body won’t calm down … won’t respond the way I want it to.

“I need a minute to …”

But at the same time that I shift slightly away from her, she rolls her hips up into mine. Sound wooshes out like I’m underwater, and all I can see are her rose-colored lips and clear brown eyes. I fall forward onto one hand, which lands on the floor just above her shoulder, and I close my eyes, grappling for control as a groan rumbles up my throat.

When I open my eyes again, hers are closed. “Anna,” I whisper, and her eyes open, meeting mine, and I don’t know what I’m seeing there, but it’s not reluctance. Not at all. Her tongue slips out to wet her lips and that’s it. I can’t … I can’t … Her eyes flicker over every inch of my face as I lower myself toward her, pink lips getting closer and closer, slowly parting. What am I doing? When I touch my lips to hers, they’re soft … so soft … like clouds. I brush my mouth across hers, and heat ignites in my chest and streams down my body.

She touches my lips with her tongue, and I slant my mouth as her lips part, tongue tangling with mine. Any hope of restraint is gone, gone, gone. I tilt farther forward, and her hand comes up to invade my hair. She tastes of ginger and smells like toffee, and my fucking God , I’m on fire.

I can’t do this. I can’t. Where is my self-control?

But her hand in my hair pulls me closer and I shift down onto her, pressing my chest into her toned body, my erection trapped against her stomach. A shiver runs through her, and she shifts under me, rolling her torso into mine and my eyes roll into the back of my head with how it rubs against my cock. Holy shit .

My hips move back of their own accord as her legs flatten to the floor, and I stretch out along her, my cock suddenly right at the notch at the top of her thighs. She gasps into my mouth as she pushes her pelvis up into mine, seeking friction, and I’m only too happy to oblige. My cock has never been happier as I grind all over her, pressing and titling as she moans, and her legs part as they come up, wrapping around my hips, feet locking at the base of my spine, reversing our earlier position. And God, now I can rub all over her properly, and she arches her whole body as I trail my mouth down her neck, goosebumps rising up on her skin.

Then her hand at my waist steals under my T-shirt, pushing it up as she explores up my back. Her rough fingers make me want to arch into her touch like a cat.

She lets out another moan and shamelessly presses against my erection, and a warning tingle ignites in my balls. Shit, I’m on the brink, embarrassingly fast.

“Oh God … Oh God …” she whispers, right into my ear.

Holy shit. She’s … what? … she’s close? Her body tenses as she rubs all over me. She’s wet too, the fabric between us is sliding over her, and I grind my hips a couple of more times over her.

“Oh yes …” she gasps, fingers creeping down and tightening on my ass. “Oh I’m … oh Jesus …”

My skin flashes hot as she moans underneath me, and I keep the pressure up, watching as she gasps for air and curls into me, her body shuddering under mine.

Holy shit. I think she …

Holy shit.

But my cock has not got with the program. The warning tingle has morphed into a full-on ache, and my hips have a mind of their own. I’m still moving against her, my whole body tightening as my orgasm goes from hovering in the background to outright certainty. Even as I pull my pelvis back, my cock starts to jerk.

Fuck. Fuck. I’m on my knees and then my feet in an instant. Anna is lying on the floor, her eyes closed, cheeks pink. In one second, I’m in the bathroom, slamming the door as I shudder and shudder against it, coming in my boxers.

Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

What did I just do ?

I close my eyes and try and breathe through my nose. How did I let that happen? Five minutes. Five minutes of rubbing off on a woman who’s probably been abused by more than one man, and I’m supposed to be her friend . I’m helping her out. Ostensibly, I’m protecting her. Teaching her fight moves. Not rubbing all over her like a creeper.

The man in the mirror opposite me is red-faced and has a damp patch on his dark shorts, and my whole body flashes hot, burning up my cheeks. Fuck, I need to apologize. That was out of order. How am I going to say sorry to her? How am I going to leave the room, looking like this?

A soft rap at the door behind me makes me jump.

“Adam?”

Fuck.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” My voice sounds like gravel. I clear my throat. “I’m just …”

I’m just what? What are you doing in here, exactly, Adam? My breathing is heavy in the silence.

“I’ll see you downstairs,” she says.

Jesus, is she okay? I wrestle with the door, wrenching it open just as her dark head disappears around the bend in the stairs. Fuck. But maybe this is better, and I can calm down and give her a proper apology. I count to ten, then twenty. I grab some tissues and clean myself up the best I can. When I open the door again, I peer through the gap like a thief, but Lord knows who I’m expecting to see there. As I pad down the staircase, the sound of a shower running is coming from a distant room down the corridor.

My bag is still sitting on the bed in my room where I left it. Anna Talanova is a top-five tennis player and I … I rutted on her and came in my pants like a schoolboy. Why did I decide to stay here? The friends idea has been a fraying rope for a while, but I can’t go there again. It devastated me.

I should have gone to stay with Fabian or Janus. Standing in the corridor, I chew my lip and glance down at my gym shorts, which are drying now. I should talk to Anna and explain. She must think I’m a lunatic. At the very least, somewhere else to stay might be sensible, if this gets awkward. What do you mean, if , Adam? It’s already awkward !

Sinking down on the couch, I pull my phone out of my pocket and type a quick text to Janus:

The press are hassling me at my apartment. Any chance I could crash with you for a couple of days if I need to?

In seconds, a message buzzes back:

Are you kidding? That sounds like the best news I’ve had all week! Jo’s still away, and I need saving from myself. This is awesome!

Then:

Plus, I’m stuck with some code, and another head on it would be incredible.

Okay, okay. But as I sit with the night skyline shimmering like jewels out of the window, five minutes roll past, then ten, and there’s no sign of Anna. What is she doing? Should I get washed, changed? I pace over the floor. I don’t want to miss her if she comes out. God, she must be pissed with me to not even come out and say anything. I walk down the corridor to where I thought I heard the shower going ten minutes ago. As I lift my hand to tap, her voice reaches me through the door.

“In what way am I bullying Arty Maroz? I think the video for that event is self-evident, don’t you?”

Her feet scud across the floor. I take an instinctive step back, but her words recede again.

“Adam Miller was protecting me.”

Ugh. Protecting her. Look where that ended up. Am I any better than Arty Maroz here? I got turned on from teaching her fight moves. What if everyone who coached her did something like that? Horror burns through me.

I head back to the living room and stare at the perfect gray couch and warm sidelights. Goddammit, she told me she had media interviews set up tonight. Now I’ve got Janus amped up about the fact I might come and stay with him. I groan to myself. Patience, Adam. I sink down as another ten minutes tick past, then a half hour, and there’s still no sign of her. Texts from Janus keep dropping in:

Are you coming? Your help would be invaluable.

Followed by:

I’m sending you some screenshots of what I’m stuck on.

She could be on calls for ages. The rest of the evening? I tap my fingers on my thigh. Perhaps I should go to Janus’s. It’s not the best thing to leave, and I’m being a coward, but giving us both a bit of space might help, and I’ll call her and apologize when I get there.

Before I can overthink it, I pull on my coat, grab my bag and slip out of the apartment, and in minutes I’m out on the street. All the journalists have gone home for the night and the street is quiet, an icy wind sifting through my hair. The lights on the buildings are like a computer array, reaching up into an inky sky. Darkness presses in around me, and the smell of garbage and the strawberry scent of an e-cigarette hit my nose as I walk past a man under the awning of a building. A solitary car swishes over the asphalt, speeding past all the people lurking in the shadows.

When I reach the corner, I pull up the Uber app and order a cab, and two minutes later I’m in the warmth of the back seat, watching the stores and businesses fly past. I’m sick to my stomach: I liked my friendship with Anna, and I can’t shake the feeling I’ve just destroyed it for good.