“You should go for a swim,” he says, swiping my towel to dry his hair. “I might get lucky, and the Pocomoonshine monster is lurking around.” He assesses me, fishing for a reaction.
We’re just joking around, like two adults. It’s fine. “In your dreams,” I tease him. I can play this game too.
“My dreams about you are more like nightmares,” he smirks, more at ease now.
My eyes trace the curve of his mouth, the flex of his arms, the clear evidence he still plays hockey with his old teammates. Not that I know much about it. Or care.
Mesmerized by his body, the words tumble out of my mouth. “That why you invite so many women into your bed?”
His grin sharpens, although something darkens in his gaze. “Do you keep track, Jackie?”
“It’s a small world. Somehow, the adventures of Adam’s dick always get back to me.”
“Are you sure you want to talk about my dick?” His voice drops, molten. “Because if I remember right, you loved choking on it.”
Heat flares across my cheeks. “That’s an exaggeration.”
“Keep talking like that,” he murmurs, thumb dragging slowly over his lower lip, gaze fixed on my mouth like he’s imagining it, “and I’ll remind you.”
Heat pools suddenly between my legs. A flare of memory that sets my skin ablaze, because Idoremember.
As if realizing what just came out of his mouth, his green eyes widen before his head tips back, a deep groan tearing out of him. “This is so…”
He inhales sharply, and when his gaze falls back on me, it’s different. Sober, almost wary.
This abrupt shift, and the silence that follows, puts me on edge. “Are you having a stroke?”
Adam rubs the back of his neck, a glimpse of hesitation flashing through.
“I’m about to,” he says hoarsely. “If I don’t get this off my chest.” His eyes dart upward, like the words are tangled somewhere in the dense forest canopy.
“Oh?”
His tongue traces the edge of his teeth as he takes a deep breath. “I was out of line the other day. I keep being out of line. You’re right. Death threats are enough without me adding to your stress.”
My back goes rigid, taking him in. Trying to read his angle. “Why do you care all of a sudden?” I can’t help my suspicion.
“This back and forth,” he says, gesturing between us, “is the only way I know how to be with you since…” He clears his throat. “Well, since you came back. We’ve been juggling it pretty well, don’t you think?”
My lungs are fighting for air. It’s the first time either of us has even grazed the subject,and I don’t think I’m ready for this discussion.
“I got carried away,” he admits. “I shouldn’t have cornered you.”
“What do you propose happens now?”
“I don’t want to make it worse for you. How about a truce?”
A truce? After years of resenting him. Of nurturing the hurt close to my chest. Could we? The nugget of remorse for how I left tips the scale. For that, at least, I owe him an attempt at turning down the heat.
“What are the terms?”
“Always straight to business.” Adam’s brows unfurrow, an easy smile curling his lips. “No more touching or inappropriate comments.”
“Obviously.”
“No more cursing.”
“Not even when you deserve it?”
