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The words were…familiar. They tugged at a memory just out of reach. When had Adam said that? I could barely think about it with him so close. The movie flashed across the screen. There were fifty people in front of us, but it was like we were only two on the rooftop again.
I drew in a slow breath through my nose, trying to remember.
Don’t hurt me like that, ice princess.
…I could see his face. His jaw, his dark eyes, the reddish tint in his hair, so close to me. When did he say that? I frowned, trying to piece it together.
He was on the couch…in my room…
And I was sitting on his lap…drunk.
My eyes shot open, and I shrank back in my seat. Oh my god, I sat on Adam’s lap?
A heavy blush crossed my face, going through every stage of embarrassment possible. The memory was just beginning to take form. Me, crawling on his lap, super wasted, telling him I wanted to have sex—oh my god—and rolling my hips against him. It was all blurry and messy, but I could clearly see Adam’s face, his dark eyes on me, a pained expression on his face.
Don’t hurt me like that, ice princess.
I clamped my mouth shut, keeping back every shocked sentiment that came to mind. I made a pass at Adam, drunk, and he’d been—hard. Rock hard. My thighs pressed together with the memory.
Friends.
Adam said he didn’t want to jeopardize our friendship.
He also said he could’ve gotten hard if I read him a recipe.
I put my chin in my hand and stared up at a movie that I didn’t bother to watch. How could I think about anything else but his wild eyes when I’d been on his lap? Touching him just felt right. I knew that from hugging him on the ledge.
And I wanted him to feel good. I wanted to be the girl to give that to him.
My fingers drummed against my thigh, and I snuck another look at him.
He looked so good. So hot. My heart sang looking at him. I wanted nothing more than to see those wild, dark eyes again.
His arm was on the armrest of the poolside chair, with all those lines of muscle.
I placed my hand next to his and watched the gunfight on the screen for a moment while I built up the courage.
What’s Adam been going through?
Especially when I woke up, touching myself before I even knew he was in bed with me. Oh my god, he must’ve been miserable. And now…
Slowly, I raised my finger and drew circles on the back of his hand.
Adam’s hand clenched, and I hesitated.
I hovered my fingers just two inches away from him and waited, counting down the seconds while horses flashed across the movie screen. But he didn’t draw it away. He just stiffened in his chair.
Taking a deep breath, I brushed my fingertips against his skin, outlining his wrist. I turned back to look at the movie. I couldn’t look at him. All the bravery would melt away and I’d go back to pretending like I wasn’t six inches away from him and pretending like I didn’t want to touch him. Pretending like I didn’t want to make him happy like that.
I wanted to hear him groan in my ear. I wanted to make him come.
I outlined his thumb and Adam flipped his hand over.
He wants me to keep going.
I swallowed hard, but the breath left me when Adam’s fingers wove through me, holding my hand.
My heart pounded in my chest. If anybody quizzed me about the movie, I wouldn’t have been able to tell them anything about it. The longer we did this, the more of an out-of-body experience it felt like. But holding hands wasn’t what I wanted. Holding hands wasn’t what he wanted.
