“Night, Red.”
“Night.” I moved, trying to get comfortable.
On my side.
On my back.
One arm over my head.
One foot out of the covers.
One leg out.
Both feet out.
On my other side.
Dammit.
“Stop wriggling,” Adam mumbled after a few minutes.
“I can’t get comfy.” I huffed and flopped onto my back, letting my arms fall like dead weights onto the bed.
Adam rolled onto his back. “You wanna cuddle?”
Yes.
“No,” I replied, rolling onto my side and against his.
He laughed, raising one arm and wrapping it around me as I nestled my head against his chest and hooked one leg over his. “Yeah. Feels like it.”
“I don’t want to.” I rested one arm over his toned stomach. “Just because I am cuddling you doesn’t mean I want to.”
“I’m sure it doesn’t,” he said dryly. “You’ll be asleep in minutes.”
I yawned. “No, I won’t.”
He laughed quietly, shoulders shaking, but didn’t say anything else to me.
“Adam?”
“Yeah?” His lips moved against the top of my head.
“I’m kind of into you, too,” I murmured, eyes heavy with sleep.
Gently, he squeezed me. “I know. I know.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN – ADAM
Mimosas and Moms
We woke the same way we’d fallen asleep. Together, although we’d both been on our sides. Poppy’s ass had been nestled against my cock, and if we hadn’t been woken by the shrieking of her phone ringing, there was no doubt how the morning would have started.
Morning sex.
Damn her mom.
I was starting to see her point about her being Satan. My cock definitely was, and he’d protested the entire time I’d been in the shower.
I refused to jack off while she was in the next room. It felt weird and not…right.
I walked into the bedroom where Poppy was still grumbling to herself about seven a.m. wake-ups.
“You’re really not a morning person, are you?” I asked, rubbing my hair with a towel.
She shot me a look so fierce I think my balls receded back up into my body. “Do I look like a fucking morning person?”
“You look like you should be the killer in a horror movie.”
She turned, her gaze never softening. Her shirt summed up her mood perfectly. “The early bird can have the worm. Because worms are gross and mornings are stupid.”
I couldn’t bite back the laugh that bubbled out of me. “Interesting shirt.”
Another flat stare at me. “Do you want to die?”
“In another seventy or so years,” I replied, tossing the towel onto the bed “Can you put some clothes on?”
“You know something, Red? Where you’re concerned today, I’ve had brighter bouts of the stomach flu.”
She flipped me the bird. “It’s too early for this stuff. Seven in the morning and my mother is on the damn phone freaking about napkins. I told her to ask Rosie and she said she isn’t even awake yet!” She slammed her mascara down on the side as I tugged my boxers up over my ass. “She doesn’t get married until tonight! Can’t we all have a little lie-in to make up for a late evening wedding? Nooo, Commander-in-Chief Mom requires us all up and at it like I give a shit about napkins.”
I wanted to ask her if she was going to start her period, but I’d done that once with my sister and I never wanted to do it again. I still had the scar on my knee from her throwing a book at me.
It was a hardback and the corner had broken the skin.
That, and I’d been an irritating teen who picked the scab.
We all had our faults. I was a picker. That was mine. Everything but the nose.
So, I went for the safe route: “Do you want to go and get coffee?”
“Do I?” she asked, looking over at me. “What do you think?”
“I think I need coffee if this conversation is going to last much longer,” I said honestly, grabbing a t-shirt and shorts from my drawer.
She poked her tongue out at me and grabbed her hairbrush. Snapping a hairband onto her wrist, she pulled her hair up into a messy knot on top of her head. Wispy bits fell down over her pale neck and ears, and she pulled a bobby pin from her makeup bag to secure the neck bits.
She glanced over and saw me watching her. “What? Some girls can pull off a super messy bun. I’m not one of them. I look like I’m on the run from the police when I do it.”
“I think you look cute.”
“Now you’re just trying to placate me.”
“Is it working?”
“Are you a cup of coffee?”
“No. But I am capable of another kind of wake-up if you want to piss your mom off a little more.” I grinned.
She fought a smile. “Normally, I’d be all over that. Today, however, I’m going to try to keep the peace.”
“Right.” I ran a bit of wax through my damp hair. “Let me wash my hair and we’ll get coffee to attempt that peace-keeping thing.”
“You don’t think I can be nice for an entire day?”
“I know you can’t.” I dried my hands on a towel and grabbed my phone and the room key. “Come on, Red, let’s make you semi-human again.”
***
It was amazing, really.
Just twenty minutes ago she’d been rabid. Kill-you-with-my-eyes angry. Nobody-touch-me pissed off.
And now? Now, she was fucking smiling.
It was her second cup of coffee and she did have a mimosa—at my order—so maybe that was why.
“Stop looking at me like I’m a weirdo you can’t make sense of.” She grabbed a croissant and tore it in two.
“You are a weirdo I can’t make sense of,” I replied, hugging my cup of coffee with my hands. “It’s not my fault if you just went from one hundred to zero on the bad mood scale.”
“I was woken up when I was having a very nice dream, thank you very much. It’s not every day Chris Hemsworth comes into my dreams and wants to have sex with me.”
“Nice. So you were in bed with me having dirty dreams about Thor.”
She paused, cheeks turning pink. “Pretty much.”
“Now say it without blushing,” I smirked. “And I’ll believe it was about Thor.”
She opened her mouth, then clamped her jaw tight shut.
“I wasn’t asleep. You said my name.” I shrugged a shoulder.
Now, she blushed like hell.
I was lying through my teeth, but boy, this was fun.
“Just admit it, Red. You were dreaming about having sex with me. That’s okay. I don’t mind. I’m flattered, actually.”
“I have the right to remain silent.” She sipped her mimosa.
“You do. But your cheeks give you away.” I grinned.
“I hate you,” she muttered, going back to picking at her pastry.
I laughed. “Fine lines and all that. You’ll love me later when—”
“When what?” Her mom’s voice cut into what I was going to say.
Which would not be mom-approved.
“I’m there to help her practice her speech for the reception,” I said without missing a beat. I stood up and kissed her cheek. “Good morning, Miranda.”
Poppy rolled her eyes.
“It most certainly is not. Poppy,” she said, turning to her as she stuffed croissant into her mouth. “You were supposed to find me immediately.”
“Mom. You woke me up. I needed to eat something.” Poppy waved the croissant.
“You can eat later.”
“No, I can’t. You’ll be on at me all morning to do this and do that and do the hokey cokey for the guests,” she replied. “So I’m eating now. The napkins will still be there in half an hour.”
“Mmm.” Miranda’s calculating gaze swept the table. “Mimosa? Poppy.”
This time, she didn’t hide her irritation. “Mom, if you want me to be a nice person today, I’m having a mimosa.”
“You’re never a nice person.”
“All right, so if you want me to pretend to be a nice person today, I’m having a mimosa.” Poppy shrugged.
“Why isn’t Adam eating?”
“I can’t eat this early,” I interjected. Jesus, this was hard work. “I usually get up and work out before I eat. I’m just here to make sure the devil’s minion doesn’t murder anyone.”
Poppy glared at me, shaking her head.
I grinned.
Miranda looked between us and blinked. “I don’t understand you two.”
“Neither do I,” I replied.
Poppy kicked me under the table.