of me is whatever she orders off the menu inside.
She leans against me, using my body as a prop, while she studies her options. Finally, she groans. “You know what I like.”
“Yes, I do, Lucky,” I say darkly. Her breath hitches for a moment and suddenly there’s no one else in the world. I force myself to return my attention to ordering food.
She doesn’t object when I order one of damn near everything. We cozy up in a corner booth, sitting close to one another because I’m afraid she’ll fall out of her seat if I don’t put myself between her and open air. A comfortable familiarity threatens to overwhelm me with my arm around her. It’s sentimentality—nothing more. When the food arrives, Adair eats like she used to back in college.
“Glad to see you still have an appetite,” I say.
“I know. I’m never giving up carbs.” She reaches back and pats her ample rear. “But it’s catching up to me.”
“I like it,” I say honestly.
She screws up her nose as she dredges a fry in the ketchup on my plate. “Admit it, I don’t have the body I used to have.”
There’s no way we’d be having this conversation if she were sober. That means she’s probably not going to remember it in the morning, so there’s no harm in being honest with her.
“I did love it,” I admit. “But now?”
“I knew it,” she says with a sigh, shoving her plate away and looking defeated.
I grip her chin and tilt her face toward mine. “Now? I want to worship it.”
Her eyes flutter open in surprise. “Really?”
“You were hot before. Now you’re a goddess.”
“That’s not a commonly held belief,” she says. “The last guy I dated…”
“What?”
“He told me that I needed to go on a diet,” she confesses.
“And you believed that dick?” I ask. I wish the guy was here right now so I could wring his neck until he lost a little weight of his own.
“I dumped him,” she says brightly. “Nothing comes between me and my French fries.”
“Or my French fries, it seems.”
“I’m adding to my figure,” she says, swiping another from me. “I’m told you prefer me curvy.”
I draw her closer. “I do.”
“Not that it matters,” she hedges, daring another fluttering glance at me. “Because we’re not sleeping together.”
“No, we’re not,” I confirm.
“Honestly, that seems like a bit of a loss,” she says.
“Does it?” I can’t help but smile.
“It’s not like—”
I cut her off with a kiss. It’s not like the one earlier. This one is purposeful and lingering. I savor the softness of her lips under mine, teasing my tongue across hers, until I can’t remember why I’m supposed to stay away from her. Pulling away, I try to remind myself. “Don’t make this complicated.”
“Let’s not pretend we’ve ever been anything but complicated,” she whispers and offers me more of her.
29
Sterling
THE PAST
“Things are getting pretty serious between you two.” Cyrus shoots a mini basketball at the hoop he’s hung over our door.
I look up from my book in time to see him make the shot. “We’re friends.”
He snorts as he walks over to retrieve the ball. Passing it from palm to palm, he shakes his head as though he doesn’t believe that’s possible. “I see the way you look at her. And she’s got you reading some girly book, too.”
“It’s for a class,” I tell him, dropping the copy of Persuasion on the coffee table.
“Sure. That’s like your third novel by that chick this month.”
“Jane Austen,” I correct him. “Not some chick.” Cyrus isn’t terrible but he’s not exactly intellectual. He might be counting how many books I’m reading, but I can’t help noticing he hasn’t cracked one yet. At least, not while I’m around.
But, unlike some of the other people in Adair’s inner circle, he doesn’t treat me like the servant class, so I keep this observation to myself.
“Ok, then what are your plans next weekend?” he asks. “There’s going to be a Halloween party at—”
“I’ve got plans,” I cut him off. The last thing I need is an invitation to another Valmont party. So far I’ve managed to avoid them since the night Adair got drugged.
“It’s funny because Adair said the same thing when I invited her.” Cyrus drops the ball onto his desk and turns on me. “Don’t tell me that’s a coincidence.”
I shrug. “Okay, it’s not a coincidence.”
“Seriously, man? It’s Halloween. I happen to know it’s her favorite holiday. Have you even asked her about it?”
“She told me she wanted to skip it.” I frown, not sure what to make of this information. On one hand, Cyrus has known her almost her whole life. On the other, like most of her old friends, he doesn’t see what she’s going through. Maybe it was her favorite before her mom’s death.
“So you two are just going to sit around and read books?” he asks, picking up the novel and staring at it like he’s never see one before.
Cyrus had come home last weekend to find Adair and I curled on the couch, her nestled between my legs, clothes on, reading books. I think he would have been less mortified if he’d walked in on us naked. He’s been acting weird ever since.
“Come on. Convince her to come. Adair’s a lot of fun when she loosens up and you can’t tell me you’re not interested in her.”
“I’ll talk to her about it.” At this point, I’ll promise anything to get him off my back. If Adair doesn’t want to go to some stupid party, there’s no way I’m going to try to talk her into attending. Cyrus must consider this a victory because he grabs his Beats and flops onto his bed.
My phone buzzes and I reach for it, a smile slipping onto my face, when I see it’s a
