Page 48 of The Shots You Take

The pants in question were dark brown and, Riley couldn’t help but notice, exquisitely tailored. He could tell Adam’s legs were still thick and strong.

“You sure your clothes don’t need to be dry-cleaned?”

“Does this town have a dry-cleaner?”

“No.”

“I’ll risk it then.”

Which meant Adam was serious about staying, at least for a few more days.

For the next several hours, they both just existed in the same space. Adam had his phone out a lot, probably texting his kids. Or old teammates. Or the fucking Prime Minister. Who knew what Adam’s life was like these days?

Riley busied himself by watering plants, doing laundry, ironing, deep cleaning his kitchen sink, and, most absurdly, rearranging two shelves of his pantry.

“Need help?” Adam had called out from the living room when Riley had dropped an open bag of split peas on the floor, scattering them everywhere.

“No,” Riley had quickly called back. “I’m good.” Because everything he was doing was related to a single goal: avoid Adam.

Except now, in the golden lamplight of the living room, with Adam still lying on the couch and quietly reading a book, Riley found himself fascinated. Adam was wearing his glasses, which wasn’t a big deal, except they were really nice glasses and Riley hadn’t seen them before. The frames were heavy and dark and rectangular, like display boxes that showcasedthe perfect sapphire of his eyes. Adam’s lips were tight, as if the scene he was reading was tense or sad. Riley tried not to notice any of it, just like he didn’t care about the way Adam idly curled and uncurled his toes inside his socks as he read.

Riley didn’t care. He was only sitting for a moment, exhausted after all of his mostly unnecessary chores.

After a few minutes, Adam rested the book on his chest and said, “Shit, I didn’t even see you there.”

“Good book?”

“Aw, you know. It’s just a spy novel.”

Riley had never known Adam to read anything, before. Not that Riley was a great reader either. “What’s it about?”

“Spies.” Adam smiled lazily at him, then yawned.

“I can show you where you’re going to be sleeping,” Riley said. “If you want.”

Adam nodded. “I’m pretty tired.”

“How’s your shoulder?”

“It’s been worse.”

Adam swung his legs over the sofa and sat up. His hair was a mess, and it was annoyingly cute. Riley watched as he stuck a bookmark in his paperback, then removed his glasses.

“What?” Adam asked when he noticed the way Riley had probably been staring at him. “Oh, is it the glasses?”

Riley grabbed that excuse with both hands. “Yeah. Hadn’t seen them before.” He stood. “Come on upstairs.”

* * *

The guest room, Adam soon discovered, was every bit as charming and beautifully decorated as the rest of Riley’s house. The walls and ceiling were covered in wide, white wooden boards, and the wood floor was stained the same rich brown as the rest of the house. A large rug covered most of the floor, and the bed was piled high with pillows and a blue-and-white-striped duvet. The window faced the ocean, though it was toodark outside to see now, and had a built-in blue velvet bench seat. Lucky had his front paws on the bench, as if trying to make sure Adam saw it.

“Are you kidding me?” Adam said. “Riles, this is beautiful.”

“Thanks. I wanted it to be nautical without being too nautical, y’know?”

“Nautical but nice,” Adam agreed.

Riley rolled his eyes, but he smiled slightly. “Anyway. The bed should be better than what you were sleeping in.”

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