Page 6 of First Comes Forever

“Huh?”

She taps her lips pensively. “This whole PR scheme you and your team concocted only happened because Noa was here in L.A., visitingme. If this goes to shit, I somehow feel responsible. Can I trust your wrecking-ball, man-whore of a client to be kind and respectful to my best friend? Because the ink is barely dry on her divorce papers. She’s still figuring out how to be a single mom. She’s been through enough.”

I nod. “So has Chase.”

“I’m serious, Adam. Noa’s not the same as the other girls Chase hangs around with. And I warn you if he screws with her—”

“Amani.” I duck my head and lift my eyes to meet hers. “You’re in social media. You understand how rumors work. Whatever you think about Chaseand me…I promise you—we’re not the bad guys. Chase has the best intentions and wewillprotect Noa from the media shitstorm. We know she’s saving our asses by going along with this.”

After challenging my stare for what seems like a minute too long, she finally nods. “Okay, fine.” She rises and then scrambles out of the tub. I hold out my hand for support, but she doesn’t need it. Amani drapes the damp hand towel half over the sink, then collects her shoes in the corner. She doesn’t put them on. Instead, she backs away from me, barefoot.

“Well, this was fun.” She glances at the toilet and then winks at me. “I’m sure I’ll see you around since our friends are friends and all.”

“Wait. Are you feeling better?” I ask. “I can take you home,” I offer, wondering if I’m sounding as desperate as I feel. After months of pining for this woman, I finally have an audience in this tiny bathroom, even if it’s after she heard me take a leak. Not exactly the way I wanted to lay down the moves, but even still, I wish she would stay.

“Nah, you’ve got a party to host.”

“I don’t have to—”

“Adam.” She arches her brows, telling me whatever I’m thinking is not going to happen.

Let it go.

She reaches for the door handle.

Desperate to have the last word, I blurt out, “You turned me on to Twirley’s.”

“What?” Her tone is softer and I know I’ve caught her attention. She lets go of the handle and spins around to face me.

“Yeah. It’s the only coffee I buy now. Twirley’s is twenty minutes out of my way from home to my meetings in Hollywood. I sit in extra traffic almost every day to get my morning coffee when I don’t brew their stuff at home.”

“Really?” She cracks a half-smile.

“Yeah. Really.”

A couple of weeks ago, Amani posted a video about a local coffee company, Twirley’s, that only orders their beans from a local farm in Mexico and insists on paying even more than fair trade standards. She passionately explained everything she’d learned about ethical farming and agriculture at her visit at that coffee shop, all without an ounce of makeup on. Her scant freckles and bright green eyes stole the show. Enough to convince me to head down to Twirley’s and buy ten bags of roasted coffee beans.

She has a superpower, especially when she’s talking about something she really cares about. It must be the damn freckles… The real Amani—unfiltered, authentic, and incredibly interesting—could convince me to buy or do anything.

She tries to hide her grin from spreading but fails. “Their stuff is good, right?”

“It’s great. But what got me in the video you made was how everything is humanely sourced. All the recycled stuff and the ten percent they donate to the local food drive. We need more businesses like that here—businesses that care. I figured if they’re going the extra mile, so can I.”

She bobs her head. The nod loosens her bun and whisps of her richly red hair fall into her face. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

She holds up one palm. “I get paid to make a lot of dumb videos, about a lot of dumb shit. But Twirley’s? I did that unsponsored. Just because I think they’re great and I wanted to help. They deserve to stay in business.” Her smile softens. “Thanks for…your support.”

The way she’s smiling at me, I take my shot. “I’d love to buy you a cup of coffee sometime. From Twirley’s, of course.”

She smirks. “To talk business?”

“To talk about whatever you want.”

She freezes in place for a moment and I swearyesis at the tip of her tongue, but she shakes it off as her jaw drops. “Damn.That was smooth.” She points at my chest. “Really smooth. Nice touch with the innocent intimate details there. You almost had me…Almost.”

Her sassiness only fuels my infatuation. “It doesn’t have to be coffee. It can be a nicer date. We could go to dinner or—” I abruptly stop myself before I can saymy place.

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