Page 8 of My Accidental Valentine

The way he asks that, combined with his calm demeanor, makes it clear he’s not angry with me anymore—at least not like he was in the car. It gives me a sliver of courage.

“Myback?” I echo, lacing my voice with sarcasm.

His mouth twitches as though he’s trying not to smile, and the sight sends a flutter through my chest.

“You know what I mean,” Adam says, the smirk finally breaking through.

“Do you mean my butt?” I ask innocently.

Adam rolls his eyes—but he’s fully smiling now, and oh, my poor heart—it’s pounding so hard like I’m a drum, and he’s the one holding the sticks.

“It’s seen better days,” I say with a straight face, barely holding back my own smile.

“Let me know if you need my help,” Adam replies.

The moment the words leave his mouth, my brows shoot up, and his expression shifts as the meaning hits him. To my utter delight, I watch him flush all the way up to his impossible cheekbones.

I can’t help but grin. “Your…help?” I say, blinking with mock indignation.

“I meant if you need to go to urgent care,” Adam says, briefly closing his eyes as if caught between embarrassment and frustration.

I swear, if you’d asked me five minutes ago, I’d have bet my life that Adam Payne doesn’t blush—but now, seeing him turn this red, I feel an exhilarating, almost wicked sense of power.

“I will,” I say firmly, stepping aside to let him into the bathroom. Then I head down the corridor. Behind me, I hear Adam let out a loud sigh, but I’m way too smug about howflustered I made him to care. I can barely resist the urge to skip down the hall.

In the living room, Tina and Amira are busy blowing up balloons—red and heart-shaped—while Chara ties them to chairs and other pieces of furniture. The table is already packed with snacks and appetizers, so the catering must have arrived while Adam and I were out.

“What’s with the Valentine’s balloons?” I ask, gesturing toward the bunch as I raise an eyebrow.

“The shop where Peter ordered them had a mix-up,” Chara says, pursing her lips. “They assumed he wanted heart-shaped ones because it’s February 14th, and he didn’t specify otherwise.”

“Whatever, it works,” Tina says, inflating another balloon with the car pump. “We love Millie, and her birthday is on Valentine’s, so let’s just call it a themed celebration.”

“Right,” I say, sensing it’s best not to push it further—especially since the girls seem a little on edge. I settle onto the sofa next to Amira, grab one of the balloons, and start blowing it up. Fifteen minutes later, we’re done with all of them, and I grab my backpack to go change before Emilia and Peter arrive.

I’ve been to this house plenty of times, but as I make my way up the stairs to the second floor, it hits me that I have no idea which room I’m staying in. The house has five bedrooms, all lined up along the second-floor hallway, each with identical white doors. I take out my phone and quickly text Peter—if anyone’s already prepped a room for me, it’s him. He’s nothing if not organized, the golden retriever of a man that he is.

His reply comes almost immediately:“The last room to the right.”

“Thanks,” I type back before slipping my phone into my pocket and heading down the long corridor. My footsteps echo faintly against the hardwood floors. When I reach the door at the end of the hall, I push the handle, swinging the door open in one swift motion.

And then I stop dead in my tracks.

Because standing there, rummaging through a sports bag on the bed, is Adam Payne.Completely naked.

But it’s not his muscled chest or sculpted legs—or even his flawless six-pack—that I notice first.

It’s his very big, very hard cock.

Startled, Adam turns to me, and the sheer horror on his face sets off my fight-or-flight instinct. Unfortunately, my frazzled brain chooses a third, far worse option: slapping my hand over my eyes in an overly dramatic gesture.

“Oh my God!” I blurt out, my face heating up like I’ve been tossed into a furnace. “Sorry, I thought this was my room!”

I hear a muffled curse and the frantic rustle of clothes, presumably as Adam scrambles to get dressed.

“Sorry,” I stammer again, my hand still plastered over my eyes. “Shit! Why are you naked?”

“Because this is my room,” Adam replies, clearly frustrated.

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