“Fine.” I stepped back out of his touch because I couldn’t concentrate when my heart beat stupidly fast. “You’re rich and famous.”
“Okay, those are two reasons to be my girlfriend. Really great ones, actually.” He grinned. “You’re not starting this very well.”
I pursed my lips and moved from hugging myself to folding my arms in annoyance. “You travel all the time.”
“Only during the season which is October to April. Little longer if we make the Stanley Cup playoffs. The rest of the time, I’m pretty much right here. And the travel isn’t that constant. I can come home or fly you out or we can Facetime.”
“I have a Samsung.”
“Okay, so we’ll Skype every day. Next.” He folded his arms, looking way too smug about this.
I was already running out of steam. “I have a job. I can’t just drop it to fly out and see you.”
“I get the games in advance. We can pick weekends and you can request them off.”
Shit.
“Rory will expect you to be his personal coach and show up at all his birthday parties.”
“I love Rory. I can cope with that.”
“Is there anything you haven’t thought of?”
Adam shook his head. “We already went through all the reasons we should fake break up, remember? And before you say it—I can handle the media. Just threaten to sue for harassment and they leave you alone for the most part.”
I pursed my lips.
“Run out of reasons, Red?”
“No. I’m thinking.” Think, Poppy, think. Damn it.
Ah-ha.
I had it.
“Aunt Blythe!” I pointed at him. “My family!”
He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “Wow. You really don’t want to be with me, do you?”
I covered my face with my hands and laughed. “We don’t know each other that well!”
“Bullshit. We talked forever. We know tons about each other. I even know all the things you don’t like about yourself.” He held his hands out to the sides. “Come on. Admit it. You can’t think of one good reason why we shouldn’t try this for real.”
Man.
I hated it when other people were right. It really messed with my ability to argue with them.
He cupped my face again. “We’re good together and you know it, Red. And I’m not just saying this, but seriously. I’m rich. I’m famous. I’m good in bed. I am one hell of a catch.”
I closed my eyes and laughed. “I don’t even know how to respond to that.”
“You agree and say you’ll be my girlfriend.”
“This feels very high school.”
Adam laughed and wrapped his arms around my shoulders. “Jesus, you’re stubborn. Is that the hair or just a delightful trait you possess?”
“Probably a mixture of both,” I said into his chest. “Mostly a trait though. I’m sure there are nice, non-stubborn gingers out there, but I’m just saying I haven’t met one yet.” I turned my face to the side. “Do we have to decide this right now? Can’t we just see how it goes?”
“Yes, and no. I was explicitly told by Avery that if I leave this apartment and we aren’t officially together, she’s going to kill you in your sleep.” He paused. “And implicate me so I go down with her because orange isn’t her color.”
“Orange isn’t her color,” I confirmed. “I would believe her on that.”
“Noted.”
I sighed and wrapped my arms around his waist. It felt right. Like I was supposed to be here with him. Like I was made to be here. “I’m scared, Adam.”
“I know, Red.” He kissed the top of my head. “I’m scared, too. I have no idea how to make a relationship work, but I know I want to make it work with you. I believe we can.”
“Do you think we’re crazy?”
“Absolutely.” He laughed into my hair. “But you remember when we were talking on the beach on Sunday night?”
I nodded.
“I told you I’d slow down if I found the person worth slowing down for.”
I nodded again.
“I’d already found her,” he said softly. “She’s you.”
I squeezed him tight, and he did the same to me before he nudged my chin up and kissed me.
“Is that a yes?” he asked against my lips.
I kissed him again. And again. And again.
“That’s a yes.”
EPILOGUE – POPPY
Happily Ever After
ONE YEAR LATER
“I don’t like this,” I grumbled as Adam tugged me along the hall with a blindfold over my eyes. “I can’t see where I’m going.”
“That is kind of the point, Red.”
“Is this what living together will be like? If so, I want a refund.”
“You can’t. Avery already moved in with Warren and your apartment already has a tenant.” He laughed.
Without the gift of sight, that laugh was spine-tinglingly delicious.
Damn it.
“I can find another apartment.”
“On an artist’s wage?”
He had a point. I, myself, was pretty broke. Mostly because I refused to touch the inheritance my parents had finally released to me when I’d made the choice a month ago to quit my job and paint full-time.
I thought I was taking the moral high road. Adam used it to blackmail me into living with him, because once Avery moved out, I couldn’t afford the rent if I wouldn’t touch it.
All right, so it wasn’t blackmail, but it was a very well-thought out argument that I had nothing to counter with.
That was a habit he had. I didn’t like it.
“Shut up,” I said.
“Okay, stop.”
I walked right into him.
“I said stop, Poppy.”
“I stopped, Adam. Technically.”
He sighed. “You’re making this very hard work.”
“You did not know what you got yourself in for when you decided to date me for real, did you?”
“I wish I could argue that point.”
“I warned you and you didn’t listen.”
“Great. I’ll make that a house rule. ‘Listen to Poppy.’”
“Hey, that’s valuable advice. Everyone coming here would do well to pay attention to it.”
“Noted. Can you stop talking now so I can show you?”
“Show me what?”
“The thing I’m hiding from you,” he said slowly.
“Is it food?”
“Why would it be food?”
I shrugged. “It’s lunchtime. I’m hungry. Food is plausible.”
“Poppy.”
“Yes?”
“Shut. Up.”
I mimed zipping my lips.
Adam moved behind me and untied the blindfold. The light of the hall was a shock to my eyes, and I had to blink several times before they adjusted, and I no longer felt dizzy.
Focusing, I looked in front of me. “Uh, that’s a door.”
“You’re on fire today,” Adam quipped.
I shot him a look. “Why did you blindfold me if the door is shut?”
He opened his mouth, then stopped.
I raised my eyebrows.
“Shut up and open the door,” he muttered. “Damn it.”
I laughed and reached forward for the door. The handle creaked as I pushed it down, and a bubble of nervous energy tickled my stomach as the door opened.
The first thing I noticed was the doors. Big, huge sliding doors made up the wall at the end of the room, flooding the space with natural light.
The next was the easel.
Then the tables.
The stools. The storage. The paints. The brushes. The pencils. The pens.
And the poppy I’d painted on the wall.
“What is this?” I whispered.
“This is your studio,” Adam said, stepping up behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist. “As charming as it is to wake up to you painting in your underwear at the kitchen table, I figured you’d want a space where you can paint without pants on without scaring any guests.”
“One time, Adam, and I didn’t know anyone was going to be here.”
He laughed. “But still. The doors give you all the natural light you need. All this paint stuff is yours, but there’s a ton of storage for you to fill with everything. And all the space on the walls to display stuff. You can literally sell your paintings online right from here.”
He’d even set a computer up in the corner.
“Oh wow,” I whispered. “And there’s a coffee machine!”
“For the times you forget to make coffee before you come in here.”
“Again, that was one time.”
“Poppy, one time encountering you on a morning without coffee is one time too many.”
I elbowed him, but it was true.