Page 8 of (Un)Expected

Great—I’d wholly devolved into middle school territory.

Diane continued as she returned her attention to us. “Anything you need, any time of day, give Alex a call, and she will make sure it happens.” She turned toward me as the side of her mouth tips up in a challenge. “Isn’t that right, Alex?”

Holy hell, this woman really would be the death of me.Any time of day? Apparently, having a personal life was a new concept to Diane, because she didn’t even blink an eye. I could picture it now:oh, Alex, you should move into the room with Mr. Rice. We don’t want him to have to wait even a second for his requests.Quitting was looking better and better by the minute.

As always, I swallowed my rage instead, prioritizing my paycheck over my pride.

“Of course, Diane,” I managed through gritted teeth. “I’d love to.”

THREE

“Never again. You willneverconvince me to go fishing again.”

Adam dropped his tackle box by the door, not even bothering to change before flopping down onto the leather couch. The pristine plastic container looked the same as it did in the store earlier. The damn price tag was even attached to the lid.

Fucking ridiculous. I told him he’d only need a pole and some bait, but not Adam. He had to buy out everything in the fishing aisle. I swear, the man was incapable of doing anything half-assed.

Not that it helped any. Even with all that high-end equipment, we still walked away without a single bite.

I stepped into the room behind him, shedding my gear before moving further inside. I still couldn’t get over the size of this place. Our rented “villa” sat on the edge of the resort’s spatial property, a separate building for people who wanted more privacy. When Javier first showed us around, my jaw almost fucking dropped. The damned thing was bigger than my parent’s home.

The inside was as impressive as the outside, ripped straight from a page of Architectural Digest. The walls were painted in different shades of pale blue, each room accented with weatheredor white-washed wooden furniture. Even the ceiling was covered with sheets of stained shiplap. With a full kitchen, dining room, four bedrooms, and as many bathrooms, it felt like a waste for only us.

But Adam liked having a buffer from the rest of the world, and I wasn’t going to complain about nice lodging, especially with my back causing all kinds of hell after our long flight.

“That was fucking brutal,” Adam groaned, scrubbing his hands over his face. “Why the hell would anyone want to do that for fun?”

I bit my tongue, tempted to tell him that what we did barely qualified as fishing. You want brutal? Try sleeping in the middle of the desert, the heat making every part of your body wanting to combust, the sounds of bullets in the background causing every nerve to stand on end.

That was what I called brutal.

I dropped down next to him, kicking my feet up on the coffee table. Fumbling around for the remote, I tried not to laugh at Adam’s exaggerated complaints—tried.Maybe it was mean to take him to the other side of the lake for the entire afternoon. After all, I knew Adam would rather do almost anything other than fish.

However, he was the one who dragged me across the country to a ridiculously small town in the middle of nowhere. While I usually thrived on quiet, there was something about this place that made my hackles rise. It was too picturesque, too unassuming. For fuck’s sake, even the restaurants closed at nine o’clock at night.

A little payback was deserved.

Adam leaned forward, almost gagging when he sniffed his shirt. He reluctantly sat up, heading to the primary bedroom to change. “What do you feel like for dinner?”

While he was upstairs, I wandered into the kitchen, opening the fridge to look inside. There wasn’t much lining the shelves, besides a few prepackaged meals we brought with us and bottles of water. Well, those and the miniature bottles of liquor across the top shelf. I stared at them for a moment, both hating and loving that I couldn’tremember the taste. Shaking my head, I pulled my gaze away, focusing instead on the food.

“I’m down for anything other than these bullshit macro-meals,” I called out, glaring at the containers. “I don’t know how you survive on this shit. Three almonds is not a goddamn meal.”

Adam chuckled as he rejoined me. “You know Rebecca’s got me on a strict regimen. You don’t even want to know how many shirtless scenes are in this new movie. Speaking of…work out tomorrow?”

I nodded, stretching out my arms. It had been too long since I’d had a routine, and my body felt it. Running had been my outlet for most of my life, spending my early mornings racing through the woods back home.

That was before.

Now, not only could it be painful, but running didn’t feel the same, especially in LA. It was too loud, too congested. It was near impossible to clear my head with so many people always around, and even though Adam’s offered his state-of-the-art gym, I barely ever used it. I’d never get on board with running on a machine.

“You want to head out? Find something to eat in town?”

Adam sighed, placing his hands on his hips. “I don’t know about that.”

It didn’t take a genius to understand why. For the past few years, Adam had barely been able to cross the street without being asked for an autograph. While it might be the cost of fame, it was also exhausting having to put on a smile and happy face all the damn time. If he showed even a hint of humanity and dared to feel frustrated about the lack of privacy, he risked his reputation, the career he spent so many years building.

“What about room service?” I answered, dropping back onto my same spot on the couch. Grabbing the remote, I started flipping through the channels. “They can probably bring something over.”

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