“No big plans?”
I shook my head.
“Why don’t we spend the day together and see how things go? Make a decision about all of this later when we know we’re not going to immediately drive each other crazy.”
“Maybe I should go home, give us both some space.”
“No,” he said, adamant. “Do that and we’ll lose our momentum. We’re getting somewhere here, don’t you think?”
I frowned.
“Plus, it’s late and we’re both tired. Let’s just crash and see where we are in the morning. You like it here, right?” He smiled and it was so hopeful it broke my heart. “I have a new toothbrush for you and everything. That’s how much of an organized adult I am these days.”
“Impressive.”
“Well, to be honest, Martha actually organized the buying, delivering, and possibly even the putting-away of the toothbrush. But it was totally me who thought to ask her to get it done.” He grinned. “So…what do you say, Jill?”
The plan had merit, I could admit that much. And I was tired and in need of some quiet time so I could catch up with everything. So I could overthink and dissect it all. “Okay. That sounds good.”
I lay on my designated side of Adam’s monster of a bed—linen bedding because…fancy—staring at the faint shadows on the ceiling. Beside me, Adam’s breathing was deep and even. Meanwhile, my mind was a whirl. It would not shut up. Thoughts of him and me, of Europe, of damn near everything going around and around, making for one big stressful question. What was I going to do?
I wanted to travel.
I think I even wanted to travel with Adam.
But the last time I’d invested in this man, he’d let me down big time. He broke my heart.
The man in question slept on, lying above the sheets, wearing only a pair of dark grey boxer briefs. He had such nice thighs. Very pleasant to look at. Which reminded me that when he’d been throwing all of these crazy ideas out there, we hadn’t discussed if I’d be sharing his hotel room or getting my own. Would we eat meals together? How many hours a day approximately would we spend in each other’s company? Was dating/living with someone on tour the same as in normal life, or did new and unexpected rules apply? Such as no girlfriends at the afterparty. Because if that was the case, he could kiss my round ass. And what about this whole signing women’s boobies thing? I was so not down with that. He’d have to give up marking mammary glands or we were dead in the water right here and now.
A strong arm slung around my middle, pulling me back against the long hot length of his body. “Go to sleep, baby.”
“You’re not the boss of me.”
“Shh.” Fingers moved my hair aside, and a kiss was pressed to the back of my neck. Another very pleasant thing. “Everything will work itself out. Go to sleep.”
And the bitch of it was, I did.
Following one of the best sleeps of my life, I woke up to the scent of bacon and eggs. Never a bad thing to wake up to. Unless you’re a vegan, I guessed. Adam’s side of the bed was empty, the sheets rumpled. Hard to tell which was the more intimate act—sleeping together or having sex. They both required a level of trust. Besides checking the time (almost eleven, yay for an awesome sleep-in!), I didn’t look at my cell. Whatever had happened overnight regarding the photos of Adam and I, I didn’t need to know. At least, not before coffee. The truth was, there was nothing I could do about the whole thing anyway.
“Who are you and what have you done with Adam?” I asked as I stumbled on out to the kitchen in my underwear and a borrowed tee promoting some brand of guitar strings.
He stood at the kitchen counter, scraping butter onto some toast—the kitchen counter we’d profaned last night. I tried to keep my focus on the food and the cooking, but the memories were too fresh. Whatever else this reunion had in store for us, that was at least a damn fine bit of profaning. We’d profaned the heck out of that counter.
“I was just about to come wake you. Breakfast’s ready.”
“You don’t cook.”
“I do now,” he said, pushing a plate loaded with fried goodness my way. “I also pick up my dirty clothes and have even been known to do a load of laundry on occasion.”
I gasped. “Good, God. How adult of you.”
“I told you. I’m a whole new man. Not only can I pay my own bills, but I also get shit done, baby.”
“Hmm. Are you eating?”
“I already ate.”
While inspecting the food, I climbed onto a stool, getting comfortable, mindful of the mild somewhat enjoyable ache in my nether regions from our furious fucking against the fridge. Maybe having sex with him again wouldn’t be the worst thing. Confusing as all hell, but still. The man would be gone to Europe soon (I wasn’t awake enough to ponder the should I or shouldn’t I go with him question yet). It’d probably be a good idea to get what I could while I could.