I’m sick of being so afraid of them.
I try to rid my thoughts as I glance down at my outfit, hoping I made the right choice. I inhale deeply through my nose and drive onto the property.
Cailin runs down the stairs of the two-story home with a wraparound porch. The house is painted white with dark steps leading down to a circular driveway. Flowers and trees line the concrete driveway that leads to a massive play structure where Cailin has her bike, scooter, and mini basketball hoop sitting next to an adult-sized one.
“Miss Russo.” Cailin gives me a hug.
Being in such a personal setting, I feel kind of odd, having her still call me that, but I don’t want things to change at school, so I disregard it and wrap my arms around her instead.
She grabs my hand and pulls me toward the house. Adam is casually leaning against the entrance.
Our eyes meet, and his lips slightly tilt up. “Hi, Sarah.”
“Hi, Adam.” I realize this is the first time I’ve said his name to him. It feels … intimate. Andright.“Thank you for inviting me,” I say.
He places his hand on my back, sending warmth up my body as I enter the house. “Glad you could make it.”
I head toward the kitchen where Linda is at the sink. After drying her hands, she opens her arms to give me a hug. “So glad you could join us, dear. Can I get you anything to drink?”
“Sure. I’ll take whatever you have.”
Linda pours me an iced tea as Cailin opens the sliding glass door to the back patio where Adam stands over the grill.
His jeans are loose on his hips, and the metal-looped belt that holds his pants up is sticking out from his fitted black T-shirt. His lean body is hard in all the right places yet skinny in other spots.
I stare for a second too long, and Linda smiles a knowing smile when she hands me my iced tea.
Embarrassment heats my face. Thankfully, she doesn’t say anything and turns to head back to the sink where she washes lettuce.
Needing to keep busy so I don’t ogle the homeowner, I say, “How can I help?”
Linda glances around. “I think everything’s set. Adam made the potato salad and got everything ready for the grill before I even got here.”
“He cooks?” I say, a little too surprised, which I know I shouldn’t be. How come we never assume famous people actually live normal, everyday lives outside of their jobs?
“Yes, he’s a pretty amazing guy.”
I fidget with my fingers, drifting my eyes around the room until I see place mats along with table settings sitting out, ready to go, so I jump on the opportunity. “Here, I’ll help set the table,” I say, picking the items up.
“Oh, yes, please do. I think Adam wanted to sit outside.”
Cailin left the sliding glass door open, so I step through, and Adam places the tongs down and heads my way.
“Here, let me help you.” He takes the silverware off the plates as I place everything else on a picnic table on the wraparound porch.
My eyes glance to a swing that looks so enticing to waste a day away on. This place is so homey and not what I would expect a rock star of Adam’s stature to purchase or call home.
“Thank you,” I say.
As I set each place mat down, Adam follows closely behind, placing napkins and the utensils on the correct sides. Every time I step to the next setting, his scent disappears, only to reappear when he comes closer.
I’m not a fan of a man who wears so much cologne that you know his presence five seconds before he even enters a room. Adam isn’t this way. His scent is subtle and intoxicating as it plays with my senses. It’s woodsy, it’s spicy, and it’s all man.
I tilt my head to get a look at him and see he’s doing the same to me. Once the last seat is set, I rub my hands together, thinking of what to say or do.
“Glasses,” I say too loud and want to roll my own eyes.
I’m acting so strangely, and I know he notices. How could he not?
