After thethirdtime we had sex, we relaxed on his leather couch, sipping wine and talking idly about the past, veering away from some of the sore points and steering right into some of the sweeter ones.
I grin through my panting breath, remembering how he sat upright in the chair, tilting his head as he imitated me.
“‘I’m telling you right now,Harold,’” he said, which is what I used to call him as a joke, when we were bantering, “‘if you call itfootballone more time, I’m getting out of this bed andnevercoming back.’”
I darted across the couch, slapping his firm shoulder. “I do not sound like that, douchebag,” I said, laughing. “You’ve made me sound allwhiny.”
“Hey, sweetheart,” he joked. “I’ll have you know my impressions are always true to life.”
I’ve still got the biggest grin on my face when I spot Adam at the edge of the track, waving a hand at me to come over.
Curious, I jog toward him.
He’s standing next to the office building, in a little nook where two walls protrude. Not that I’ve got much expertise in this area, but he kind of looks like a drug dealer getting ready to hand out free samples.
He looks even shiftier when I get closer, his hands fidgeting with each other. His red hair is damp with sweat and his teeth are gritted. He looks downright strange.
Enemies all too often present themselves as friends.
“Hey, Grace,” he says, glancing around like a nervous tweaker.
“Um, hello, Adam,” I mutter, stopping a few feet short of him, so that I’m standing in the fading sun and he’s standing in the shade. “Are you okay?”
“Where’s the laptop?” he snaps, a fierce note in his voice I’ve never heard from him before. “Is it in your room? Should we go there now?Where is it?”
“Adam, relax,” I mutter. “I wasn’t able to get it. In fact, I don’t think I’m really on board with this, you know.”
He narrows his eyes. “What the fuck?” he snaps. It’s like he turns from a nervous little kid into a combative adult in two seconds flat. “I thought we had a fucking deal. Yousaidyou were going to get it.”
“Yeah, well, I changed my mind,” I hiss. “And to be honest with you, I don’t really like the way you’re fricking speaking to me!”
“Don’t like the way I’m …” He shakes his head, inching forward, teeth gritted in a snarl. “What the hell are you talking about? I’m talking to you how you deserve to be talked to if you’re gonna back out on a deal!”
“Adam,” I yell. “You’re fricking delusional if you think I’m going to do that, okay? I shouldn’t even have agreed to it. I was mad. I let my anger get the better of me. I’m only human and Ireallydon’t appreciate you talking to me like this.”
“Now you listen here, you little—”
Suddenly, the door to the office building opens with a loud crashing noise. Adam and I turn to find Harry standing there, shirtless, with just his pale blue shorts on, his hair pushed across his furrowed forehead in waves.
He grips the edge of the railing that borders the stairs and hops over it easily, landing in a squat.
“What the hell is going on here?” he snarls, glancing between us as he stands up.
My belly drops as the idea that he heard us pounds painfully through my mind. But his gaze seems fixated on Adam as he walks closer, eyes narrowed.
“Are you bothering her?” he snaps.
Adam’s mouth opens and closes dumbly like a startled fish. He makes a strangled noise from the back of his throat. After about two seconds of Harry staring him down, he finds his voice.
“I thought you were out of the office for the day.”
“Nope.” Harry glowers. “I’m right here. I’ll ask you again, Adam. Are you bothering her?”
“Now listen here,” Adam says, puffing himself up like it’s taking all his courage not to crumple in the fire of Harry’s gaze. “I don’t think it’s very fair, y’know, you talking down to me just because I’m an employee.”
“What?” Harry scowls. “It’s nothing to do with you being an employee. Grace, what’s going on out here? I heard shouting.”
“It’s nothing,” I mutter. “Just a silly disagreement. Don’t worry about it, Harry.”
