Bittersweet (12 page)

She
supposed it made sense. Seeing her move on with her life couldn’t be easy for Adam.
Josh had been his family, and it would be hard for him to give up the idea that
she belonged to Josh. But, if they were going to be friends, he would have to
get over that.

“Okay,”
she said, a little awkwardly, still having to intentionally restrain herself
from buttoning the cardigan again. “I’m going to take off. I’ll probably be
back before midnight. Just call if you have any problems.”

“I
will. We’ll be fine.” He sounded almost natural again, but there was a
lingering tension in his neck and shoulders, and he wasn’t looking at her
directly.

Zoe
shrugged it off, deciding there was nothing she could do about Adam’s reaction
right now. She leaned over to kiss Logan and told him to be good. Logan,
finished with his green beans, demanded more to eat.

“How
about some…” Adam paused as he studied the cut-up meat in the bowl Zoe had prepared. 
Then concluded, “…chicken?”

Logan
reached out for his food, and Zoe decided it was a good time for her to leave.
She squeezed Adam on the shoulder as another silent thank you, kissed Logan
again, and slipped out.

She
met up with Jane and her other friends, and they went to a trendy fusion
restaurant for dinner.

Zoe
had found a part-time assistant manager job at a downtown boutique. She loved
the clothes, and the hours were good. It wasn’t a very high paying or impressive
position. Zoe, however, didn’t need to earn an income. Josh had left her and
Logan well provided for. What she needed was something in which to invest her
time and energy. She loved retail work, and the idea of the job made her feel
more like herself again.

It
was exciting. Felt like a new challenge. A fresh start.

A
bittersweet one, since she’d never be able to share it with Josh.

It
had been over seven months now since he’d died, though, and she couldn’t put
her life on hold forever.

So
she had a good time celebrating with her friends. They drank two bottles of
wine at dinner. Then they couldn’t agree on which club to go to afterwards. So
they ended up stopping in at three different bars or clubs, and Zoe had mixed
drinks at each one.

By
midnight, she was giddy and rather fuzzy. Everything seemed funnier than it
should, and—despite a firm belief that she was no longer someone who would do
such a thing—she danced quite uninhibitedly with her friends at the last club
they visited.

The
alcohol had somehow snuck up on her. She’d had no intention of drinking very
much, and she wasn’t really conscious of having done so. Her friends weren’t going
to let her do anything crazy or dangerous, and they would get a cab to take
them home.

So
Zoe just enjoyed letting go for the evening, indulging herself in a way she
never did anymore.

It
was very late when she finally got back home. She’d felt a little dizzy during
the cab ride, but she wasn’t drunk enough to be sick.

She
said goodbye to Jane and headed up to her apartment. She stopped in front of
her door, making a point of reminding herself to be quiet as she went in
because Logan would be sleeping.

She
wondered if Adam and Logan would both be asleep on the couch the way they had
the last time. She almost hoped they were. They’d looked so adorable like that.

Snickering
over the memory, she made a great effort to close the door behind her without
slamming it. Then she walked through the entryway, her heels clicking on the hardwood
floor and her cardigan slung over her arm.

She
dropped the cardigan, her purse, and her keys on the entry table and was
extremely startled by the noise her keys made as they dropped.

She
took a deep breath, thinking it felt incredibly warm inside. She pulled the
fabric of her top away from her skin a few times, trying to generate a breeze.

When
Adam appeared in front of her without warning, she gave a little squeal of
surprise.

“Sorry
to startle you,” he murmured, his observant eyes scanning her from her messy
hair to her sexy high heels. Despite the blur in her mind, she was acutely
conscious of the fact that his eyes spent more time than they should have at
her neckline. “Is everything all right?”

“Yeah,”
she said, smiling at him vaguely. It was so nice of him to stay with Logan. Who
would ever have imagined she’d have Adam Peterson—trivia-game tycoon—babysitting
for her one-year-old son. “Yeah. Yeah.”

She
wasn’t quite sure why she repeated the word three times, but it seemed like the
appropriate thing to do.

His
eyes narrowed as they studied her face. “Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah.
Yeah.” It still felt excessively hot in the apartment, so she pulled her top
into a fan again. “Yeah. Why is it so hot?”

Adam’s
eyebrows arched up and the corner of his mouth quivered. “I see you’ve had
quite a good time tonight.”

“It
was fun. I danced. I haven’t danced in ages.” It seemed only appropriate that
she give Adam some sort of proof of her evening activities. He was a
conscientious researcher and wouldn’t necessarily believe unconfirmed reports.
So she swung her hips and spun around, thinking she would have done better with
a little music.

With
a low chuckle, Adam took her arm and pulled her toward the living room. “Why
don’t you sit down for a minute? I’ll get you some water.”

Zoe
frowned at him dramatically and then gave him what she believed to be a
well-deserved huff for interrupting her dancing. But she let him lead her over
to the couch because she felt another wave of dizziness hit her.

She
breathed deeply and stared out the windows at the lights of the city.  It felt
like there was something important she needed to do or say.

“Here,”
Adam said, sitting down beside her after handing her a glass of ice water. “How
much did you have to drink?”

With
an intimidating glare, she said, “Not that much. A few.”

“A
few?”

She
gave a firm nod. “A few.” She couldn’t remember, but it hadn’t really been that
many. “I may be just a little intoxicated.”

“I
think that might be a possibility.” It sounded like Adam was hiding a laugh.

She
looked at him suspiciously. He wore a gray t-shirt, and she liked how the soft
cotton looked stretched across his shoulders. He had very good shoulders. And a
very nice neck. And the most irresistible kinks in his brown hair, since it was
just a few days until his next cut. And his mouth was quivering in that way she
loved—like he couldn’t quite repress a smile no matter how hard he tried to
keep his composure.

“Are
you laughing at me?” she demanded. She liked that he was laughing, but it didn’t
seem right that she should be the reason for it.

“Never.”

This
was a satisfying answer, and she liked the rich lilt in his voice.

He
was a very good uncle. And a very good friend. And a very attractive man.

She
reached out and patted his chest, feeling the need to affirm all of these
truths about him. “I like you, Adam. I didn’t think I ever would again. But I
do.”

He
made a choked sound that might have been a suppressed laugh. “Thank you. I like
you too.”

She
kept patting him. His chest felt nice—hard beneath the softness of his shirt.
And the warmth in his eyes was like a caress. “There’s something I need to tell
you,” she admitted, leaning closer as this wasn’t something to share with the
world at large.

“What
is it?” His voice changed slightly, but she couldn’t possible interpret what
the change meant.

She
leaned even closer, almost whispering in his ear. “I need to go to the
bathroom.”

He
made another choked sound, and this one ended in a dry chuckle. “Well, then you
should certainly do so.” He helped her stand up and walked with her to the
bathroom.

When
she passed the bedroom door, which was open just a crack, she gasped. “Logan!”

“He’s
asleep. He did fine tonight.”

She
nodded and allowed her mind to return to the most pressing concern of the moment—going
to the bathroom.

“I
think,” she said seriously when she stepped inside, “that I should try to go by
myself.”

“Yes.
I think that’s an excellent idea,” Adam agreed, his face sober except for the
warmth of his eyes.

She
nodded in satisfaction, this question having been resolved. Then she shut the
door.

After
she’d finished, she washed her hands for a long time and stared at herself in
the mirror. Her cheeks were deeply red and her hair was tousled messily around
her face. She smoothed it down with her hands until it hung in a shiny fall to
her waist again.

Her
arms were bare, and her fair skin stood out starkly against the dark wine color
of her top.

Her
cleavage was dramatically visible from the deep plunge of the neckline.

She
liked how she looked. It seemed to suit her mood. And, if Adam didn’t like it,
then that was just his problem.

He
was waiting outside the door when she opened it.

“Are
you still here?” she asked.

“Yes.
I thought I might wait to make sure you were settled before I left.”

She
couldn’t really follow his line of thought and decided it didn’t really matter.
She glided back into the living room, tripping once on her heels. Annoyed, she
kicked them off.

“Did
I tell you I danced?” she asked, feeling the music swell up inside her and
compel her into dancing again. She swung her hips rhythmically—her hair swung
with them—and she waved her arms as she turned a few circles.

“You
did tell me that.” Adam took her by the upper arms and effectively prevented
her from dancing. “Why don’t you sit down again? You must be tired.”

“I’m
not,” she argued, trying to shake out of his grip. Then she realized that
wasn’t the right approach. “Did you want to dance too?” She twined her arms
around his neck and kept moving her hips. “I bet you’re a good dancer for such
a stuffy man.”

“Stuffy,
am I?” Adam asked, something warm rippling in his voice. He tried to dislodge
her arms, but she didn’t let him.

She
liked his rippling voice, and she liked the dark warmth of his eyes. And she
liked the way he kept trying not to look at her cleavage. And she liked how
hard and masculine he felt against her.

“Yes,
stuffy. Always holding things back.”

“Some
things need to be held back.”

“Why?”
She didn’t like the idea of his holding so much beneath the layers of who he was.
It bothered her a lot.

“Because
sometimes it’s the only way to do the right thing.”

“The
right thing is boring.” She pressed up against him more fully, still trying to
keep up the rhythm of her dancing. “Why won’t you dance with me?” she demanded,
frustrated by his continued attempts to pull away.

“Zoe,”
Adam began, his voice finally sounding a little frustrated, “I’ll dance with
you some other time. I’m not sure this is the best time for it.”

“Why
not?” She stuck out her lower lip, pressing her breasts against his chest. She
liked how it felt, so she rubbed against him. “I’m a good dancer.”

“I’m
sure you are.” His voice was more stretched than it had been before. “But I
don’t really think you want to dance with me right now.”

He
succeeded in unhooking one of her arms, but she clung resiliently with the
other. He felt like a man. Like a lean, hard, hot man. And she hadn’t felt a
man in a really long time. “I do too,” she insisted, yanking her arm out of his
grip and wrapping it around his neck again. All she wanted to do was dance, and
he was stubbornly refusing.

“I
know you want to at the moment, but I don’t think you would if you were
thinking clearly.” Adam sounded strained, and his body was strangely tense. He
wasn’t cooperating at all.

She
whimpered. It wasn’t fair that he was right here—irresistibly masculine—and he
kept refusing to let her get close.

“Zoe,
please,” Adam tried one more time, grabbing both of her arms and pulling them
down from his neck. “Why don’t you sit down and think it over first?”

She
gave a dramatic huff of resentment, but then she deflated like a balloon. Her
energy and enthusiasm deserted her, and her knees almost buckled.

Adam
helped her back over to the couch. He was tense and moved kind of awkwardly,
which made her wonder if he was really upset with her.

The
thought made her want to cry. Then she realized she
was
crying.

“It’s
all right, Zoe,” Adam murmured, helping her sit down. “It’s just the alcohol.
You’ll feel better soon.”

For
some reason, his words reassured her. So the most natural thing to do was curl
up on the couch and going to sleep.

So
she did.