with Caleb, I can’t exactly tell if he’s being serious or not. So I don’t say anything at all, and a moment later, he texts again.
Dad seems pissed.
And there it is. That’s why Caleb likes my new girlfriend, because she ruffles Dad’s feathers, and while Caleb has never had the balls to do it himself, he loves anything that pisses our father off. If only he knew that was my plan all along. If only I could tell him that Dad is pissed because my new date is a threat to his name and reputation. But I can’t. I promised to follow the rules, which means everyone has to believe it’s true.
Good. I respond without explanation.
“You were right,” Sage says, stealing my attention. “This place is the best.”
I glance up from my phone to see her sitting on my car, in my jacket, with ketchup on her face, looking infuriatingly cute and sexy at the same time.
Letting out a tense sigh, I pick up a napkin from the trunk and lean in, wiping the mess from her cheek. “You’re a mess,”
I mumble.
She smiles in return, dimples piercing her cheeks. I narrow my eyes at her in a grimace as she beams.
I fucking hate it when she does that.
Sixteen
Sage
T he car is quiet as Adam pulls up to the front of the Laundromat. His jacket is still wrapped around my shoulders. It’s past eleven, but I’ve been a night owl for so long that late hours barely affect me anymore.
He puts the car in park and lets his hands settle in his lap. I don’t climb out of the car just yet. I feel like he wants to say something, and part of me wonders if it’s going to be him backing out of the plan.
“Are you sure you want to go through with this?” I ask, my voice level and quiet.
“I’m sure.” His response is quick, which I don’t expect. I glance over to stare at his silhouette in the dark car, half of his face illuminated by the streetlights and neon signs.
Adam is always so stoic. Like he’s holding in his anger, burying it deep within himself, so now it’s etched into his DNA. This is the only way he knows how to be, which makes me want to rub my thumb into the crease between his brows until he lets that worry and anxiety melt away.
At times, he’s sweet. Charismatic. Like the morning in the diner or tonight as he proudly held me by his side. I have a feeling that was the real Adam, but he’s been so conflicted with duty and obligation his whole life; he’s been tricked into thinking he’s someone he’s not. And now that his father has pulled the morality rug from under him, Adam has turned into a powder keg ready to blow.
I wish I could heal him of all the pain he’s radiating.
“Will this make you feel better?” I ask. When he glances my way, I continue, “When you ruin your reputation to spite him. Will it make you happy? Able to move on?”
The crease in his brow deepens. “Does it matter?”
His tone is cold, reminding me that even after those small gestures of kindness and the bone-melting kisses tonight,
Adam Goode still refuses to let me in. Ever since seeing his dad tonight, his entire mood’s darkened, and I can’t seem to get him back.
“Of course it does,” I reply.
“We’re not doing this to make ourselves feel good, Peaches. We’re doing this to tarnish his reputation.”
Reaching across the seat, I place my hand on his arm, my fingers sliding over the rich fabric of his black tuxedo. “It’s okay to do things because they feel good. That doesn’t make you a bad person.”
He looks first at my hand and then my face. Hearing what I just said, paired with how I’m touching him…I realize now that it looks like I’m soliciting something. So I quickly take my hand away.
Clearing my throat, I look out my window as I speak.
“We’ll start filming tomorrow. We can do it at my place.”
“Okay,” he replies, and when I glance back at him, I notice the angry crease has softened.
“Noon,” I add. To which he nods.
“Good night, Adam.”
Before he can even try to get out and open my door for me, I climb out. I barely make out his saying good night before the door shuts and I’m alone on the street.
As I make my way to the front of the Laundromat, unlocking it with my key, I expect him to drive away. But he doesn’t. He waits for me to be safely inside before he takes off into the night.
“Why are you watching porn in my Laundromat?”
I nearly spit out my Mountain Dew as Gladys leans over my shoulder and stares in shock at the video playing on the
screen of my phone.
My finger swipes the app closed as my cheeks heat with embarrassment.
“One month without a boyfriend, and you’re that horny already?”
I let out a laugh as I pocket my phone and get back to work loading coins into the sorting machine.
“Fun fact, Gladys. I’m always horny.”
Her laugh is hearty and warm as she tousles my hair. “I believe it.”
“And second of all, that wasn’t porn. It’s an app where people can upload videos of themselves and people pay to watch them.”
“Oh…like porn,” she replies sarcastically. “Is that what you’re going to do for money now?” Then she holds up her hands in surrender. “Hey, no judgment. I support sex workers.”
With a smile, I shake my head. God, I love Gladys.
“Actually…maybe.” My eyes squint with unease as I watch her face for a reaction. I’ve been looking for a new job since I left the club, but no one is hiring at the moment.
Instead, I’ve been helping around the Laundromat and Gladys has been flexible with my rent to allow me more time to look.
To my surprise, she only looks mildly uncomfortable with the news that my new job venture might be porn.
“But not by myself,” I continue. “That…new guy I’m seeing—”
“The rich, older one,” she replies.
“Yeah, him. He and I want to make some videos. For…
fun.”
Yikes, this feels forced and uncomfortable. Is she even buying any of this? I mean, I did work in a sex club, so it can’t be that much of a stretch for her to see me doing this now.
She’s folding towels as she seems to be mentally chewing on what I’ve just told her. Her face tenses in scrutiny before she glances my way and shrugs.
“Hey, make money with him if you can, I guess. Harold and I used to record ourselves all the time. But he would have never, ever let me post them anywhere. It would have been nice to at least make some money with them.”
“Oooh, so kinky, Gladys. Do you still have them?” I ask with a giddy smile.
“Somewhere in a box, I’m sure. If I die and you find a videotape labeled Hawaii vacation, burn it.”
Gladys and I are both laughing so hard now neither of us hear the front doorbell chime. It’s not until I feel his gloomy presence hovering three feet away that I realize Adam is here.
God, his dad really did a number on him last night.
My laughter dies as I turn to stare at him. His sudden presence sends a flutter of butterflies to my stomach because I know exactly what comes next.
“Oh, hi,” I mutter.
“Hi,” he replies flatly.
He’s in a pair of dark-gray joggers and a V-neck T-shirt that hugs his chest and shoulders. His dark hair looks a little wet at the tips like he just got out of the shower and came straight over. I can smell the potent scent of his cologne from here, musky and rich. I don’t know if it’s laced with pheromones or if that’s just the effect of expensive cologne, but it has me noticing just how ridiculously handsome he is today.