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“No,” he chuckled, straightening and looking at me. “Your honesty is so refreshing. Every time it comes up, it makes me believe a little bit more, that you really have no idea.”
“Are you saying I lied?”
“Don’t twist my words.”
“Shit. I hate it when people catch me on that.” I paused. “I have no idea. I thought the Stanley Cup was football until I met you. I don’t know what to call it when you score. A goal? A try? A point?”
Adam scratched his stubbled chin. “Wow. You really are completely sport-ignorant, aren’t you?”
“You’re a smart man to put ‘sport’ in front of ‘ignorant.’”
“You’re a redhead and you’re getting ready to have lunch with your mother, who you don’t get along with. I can honestly tell you I have no intentions of making you angry. I would also like to get out of this lunch in one piece, preferably with my sanity intact.”
Tilting my head to the side, I raised my hand to his cheek. Ah. Spiky. Why was that hot?
“Oh, honey,” I said slowly. “You think you’re going to leave this weekend with any sanity at all. That’s so cute.”
“Did you just call me honey?”
“Would you prefer I reverted to Hockey Boy?”
“No, actually. I wouldn’t.”
“All right. Hockey Boy it is.” I kissed his cheek and, with one quick shove of his arm, made my escape. I slid my feet into my flip-flops with a giggle and grabbed my phone and purse from the bed.
Adam sighed behind me. “You know what you are?”
“A pain in the ass? Sarcasm personified? Queen of Sass?”
“Yes, yes, and yes,” he replied. “You’re also the internet troll everyone assumes is a twenty-something gamer living in his mom’s basement.”
“That might be the nicest compliment anyone’s ever given me.”
“Don’t get excited. It wasn’t a compliment.”
“Then you need better insults, because five-year-olds at recess have you beat. Hockey Boy.” Another grin and I twirled into the main room of the suite. “Come on. My grandpa will be here after lunch, then you’ll really see how crazy my family is.”
“It gets worse?”
“Oh, yeah. You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”
Adam pulled the door open and held it for me to walk through. “You know, if it weren’t for the sex, I might be regretting this entire weekend right about now.”
“You know, if it weren’t for the sex, I would definitely be regretting this entire weekend,” I replied. “Come on. Let’s go. Satan can only last so long on the surface before she gets too cold and has to go back underground.”
“How the hell did you survive past your teenage years?”
“Avoided my mother as much as possible and left for college the minute I was able.”
“Write a guide for teens on surviving those seven horrible years. You’ll make millions.”
I hit the button for the elevator and glanced over at him. “Noted. But I’m putting your name on it to make those millions.”
“Do I get royalties?”
“I’ll give you a blow job for every thousand dollars I make.”
“What if I ever get married?” Adam placed his hand on the side of the elevator opening so the doors wouldn’t shut.
Shrugging, I stepped into the mirrored box. “Then we’ll have to draw up a contract about this and your future wife will have to be in full agreement. If not, then you’ll have to take whatever the going rate is for a blow job.”
He leaned against the side, sticking his hands in his pockets. His lips quirked to the side. “Do you know what the going rate is?”
Blinking quickly, I did my best to look offended. “What are you trying to say, sir?”
“Nothing. It was merely a question. Nothing insinuated,” he said quickly.
I grinned. “Okay, first, stop panicking. It’ll take more than that offend me.”
“I wasn’t panicking.”
“Liar,” I said as the doors swooshed open. “I could smell your panic from here.”
“What are you? A wild animal?”
I glanced over my shoulder. “If you really want to find out, you can buy me tequila.”
His eyes flashed with something, and he placed his hand on the small of my back. “I’ll lose a little sanity for that,” he said, guiding me toward the main lobby.
Eyes were on us—on him—the second we stepped into it. I didn’t recognize the little boy who was staring at him like he’d just seen God in real life, but I knew exactly what was about to happen.
The little boy grabbed hold of his mom’s dress and tugged. She bent down, fussing at him, and he pointed in Adam’s direction. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet, and I swear, I could feel his excitement.
He looked exactly how my nephew had the night before.
Adam hadn’t noticed. He was happy to guide me toward the door, and I dipped my head. Something tugged in my stomach—guilt, regret, just the general feeling of being wrong.
A glance to the side showed me why.
