“That’s a good idea,” I said. “we can make it a competition. We’ll let them judge which one of us is a better boyfriend. I’m sure they’ll really love some romantic shots of us.” I pointed to Aidan and Jesse.
He narrowed his eyes at me. “How will we judge that? It’ll be impossible.”
I shook my head and grinned. “Date nights, Rockstar. We’ll take turns. The date nights with the most media coverage wins.”
“What does the winner get?”
My grin widened. “The option to break up with the other one.”
Adam appeared to be considering it. “Fine. But I’m going first.”
I grinned and held out my hand to shake his. “Deal.”
Adam shook on it, and I wrapped my arm across his shoulders. “Let the fake boyfriend games begin.”
* * *
When we left the office,Adam was wound up tight. The tension in his jaw and stiff posture were big clues. I was sure he’d love the opportunity to carry on with me without it meaning anything. It was no secret we found each other attractive. Flirting with him was like breathing. It just happened without thinking about it. And if we stopped, I was pretty sure I might die.
To get him going, I started texting him one-liners in the studio. He looked tense, and I wanted to help. I was perched on the sofa next to Patrick while he and Cole were behind the glass.
I tapped on my messaging app and found his name.
ME: See my friend over here?
I watched as his phone vibrated, and he looked over at it. Adam looked up at me, and I gestured to Patrick. When he wrinkled his brow in confusion, I sent the next text.
ME: He wants to know if you think I’m cute.
He looked up at me with one raised eyebrow, then sent a reply.
ROCKSTAR: Tell your friend I think you’re ridiculous.
ME: Ridiculously hot
ROCKSTAR: Ridiculously stupid
He was smiling, so I’d consider it a win.
Me: 1, Rockstar: 0
* * *
The growingtension between us came to a head the next night when we returned to the apartment after a long recording session. While he and the guys were laying down the track for the next song in Cole’s studio, I’d been working on something else at home.
Adam walked into the apartment and stopped in the middle of the floor, looking around with a frown on his sexy face. “What the fuck have you done to my apartment?”
I never expected him to lose his shit over me cleaning up his mess. It had to be done. I couldn’t live with clothes everywhere and a million guitar picks on every surface, including the bathroom. Not to mention the ink pens and legal pads, water bottles, and mail strung all over the kitchen. A month of frat house living was enough when it became apparent I wasn’t leaving anytime soon. And when he hadn’t cleaned any of it up, I had no choice.
“It was a safety hazard, Rockstar. I was seriously worried we might get evicted if your landlord got a look at this place. You’re a grown man, not a frat boy. What the fuck, dude?”
Adam propped his hands with those long, tattooed fingers on his hips and spun to look at me. The heat in his eyes made him even sexier than he already was, with those green eyes and shaggy hair that I itched to run my hands through.
“You had no right to do this. This is not your place, it’s mine. You’re just a big, uninvited guest here. I don't need you fucking up my life Phantom. I do that just fine on my own.”
I laughed off the jab even though it left a small mark. “My job is to protect you, Adam, even from yourself. If I hadn’t done this, there was no way we could live together. It was time to get rid of the frat house vibe you had going on in here.”
Adam’s eyes narrowed as his fury boiled over. “That’s not what it looked like. It was my shit the way I wanted it. A place that belonged to me and not a temporary shelter from a storm. I may never find my music now!”
