“I’m fine,” I mumbled, avoiding his eyes.
He didn’t seem to believe me.
“I’ll call the ambulance just in case.”
“No, you won’t,” I growled, my voice muffled by the fabric. “Stop overreacting.”
Someone would find his considerate behavior surprising, but it was actually the norm. Why? Because Adam Markland had this… I called it a sadistic whim. He never let anyone hurt, attack, or offend me. One wrong look headed my way would make his fists clench. He probably broke more noses on my behalf than in his entire lifetime. While he could pick on me as much as he wanted, no one else was allowed to insult me. Or touch me. Or breathe in my direction. There was only one person who could mess with me, and that person was Adam Markland. He made it clear, and everyone knew it. And now the dude handcuffed to the fire escape stairs knew it, too.
Adam finally dropped the subject, only to walk up to the unconscious man and slam a foot in his face.
“You fucking asshole! I’ll kill you for what you did to him.”
Blood gushed out of the man’s nose and spilled onto the street, snapping me out of it. Adam was about to hit him again when I stood in his way before he could carry out his threat.
“Stop!” I said, barely able to hold him off. “Jesus… enough.”
Adam shifted his gaze to me, looking almost confused.
“I should probably read him his rights, though,” he mused. “Right?”
In different circumstances, I would have laughed.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “Although we should probably wait until he regains his consciousness.”
When his gaze landed on my bloodied nose, his expression softened.
“The bleeding stopped, huh?”
“Yeah, the bleeding stopped,” I said with a sigh. “Let’s just… let’s do our job and go home.”
Adam nodded. “Good. That’s good. Yeah. Let’s arrest that stupid son of a bitch.”
He headed to the car, only to throw over his shoulder, “By the way, you owe me a shirt, weirdo.”
As I said earlier.
Ridiculous.
Chapter 2
A Fitting Punishment
Jordan
I didn’t want to wash it.
I’d been staring at the bloodied shirt in my hands ever since I came home and plopped on the sofa, feeling desperate. My behavior bordered on insane, but after I sniffed Adam’s shirt, I couldn’t force myself to wash the darn thing.
“Just do it!” I said out loud, talking to myself like a proper loony, but I wasn’t bothered by that. I had a bigger fish to fry. Other irons in the fire. Other things on my plate. One of those things was heavenly blue, made of cotton, and it smelled like Adam Markland.
Pull yourself together.
I rushed to the bathroom, only to falter once I reached the washer.
Just one more time.
I brought the shirt to my nose, inhaling deeply, and just like that, my dick swelled. His shirt smelled like a million things at once, while remaining ultimately indescribable. I could discern the washing detergent, cologne, and icing sugar from the doughnut Adam had eaten earlier. A myriad of other things, too. Rain. Coconut. Freshly cut grass. The ocean. Rejection. Loneliness.
