Page 9 of The Four Leaf

For the next few minutes, I scroll through profiles and assess the men on the screen in less than five seconds. All of them the app matches me with are the exact same. Suits, ties, bright smiles, and perfectly uniform hair.

I tried this type before. Multiple times. And every time I go on a date, I always end up bored out of my mind. From the fancy restaurants, where we talk about their latest business venture to the missionary sex, where I never get off.

It starts and ends the same every single time. I need something exciting. Something that makes me feel alive.

Maybe then the lingering feelings will begin to dwindle. Maybe then I won’t feel completely pathetic and can move on from what I’ve never even had.

As if on cue, the ballroom door opens, and I twirl around, ready to mouth off to Willow. Only it isn’t my sister standing in the large doorway. It’s freaking Adrian.

I hit the button on the side of my phone, before placing it face down on the piano. “All done?”

He’s more disheveled than he was when he was working on Doris. His hair is tousled, falling over his forehead, while his Henley is no longer white, but is covered with an array of streaking grays, blacks, and browns. His jeans are low on his hips, sporting the same colors as his shirt.

Adrian nods, seemingly pleased with himself. “I am.”

I stand up and move around the piano, but still leave plenty of room between the both of us. “Thank you, seriously.”

He waves me off. “I told you, this is my home too. And you know it’s never an issue helping you ladies out. Better me than some townie who’s gonna overcharge you.”

“Still. Thank you, Adrian.”

He nods again as he lets his gaze drop to the instrument behind me. After a few seconds, he looks back to me.

“Remember when you got stuck in there.” He gestures to the grand piano with his chin, a sly grin on his face.

Ignoring the unexpected swell of butterflies, I guffaw. “Of course. I thought it was the perfect hiding spot.”

“If youplannedon breaking the damn thing, sure.”

I roll my eyes. “I definitely didn’t intend to harm your precious piano. Just determined to finally win a game of hide and seek with you.”

“Bambi, we both know you will never win a game with me. Wherever you hide, I will find you.”

I bite into my bottom lip hard, an attempt to feel something other than the sudden ache in my core. “Sounds a bit stalkerish, but I get your meaning.”

He shrugs, seemingly indifferent to the higher octave in my voice. “Not my fault you suck at hiding.”

“Umm, I don’t,” I bite out, folding my arms over my chest. “You always cheat.”

This makes him laugh that deep, throaty laugh. “How do I cheat, Sam?”

I mirror his shrug, though a little more aggressively. “I don’t know. But there’s no way you should have been able to find me every single time.”

Adrian moves toward me slowly, each step in tune with slow-motion seconds in a movie. His gaze is hooded and predatory, his posture screaming for me to back up. Instead,I stand perfectly still, a strange response when my body is humming to do the opposite. But it isn’t because I’m afraid. It’s anticipation.

The closer he gets to me, the more my heart rate increases. The quicker my breath comes, the wetter I get. Scandalous, and so freaking forbidden, but it’s the very excitement I go out looking for, which is making it very hard for me to ignore.

By the time Adrian is a foot away from me, my nerves are shaking in anticipation. “You know what I think, Sam? I think you like it when I chase you. And even more so when I find you.”

I force my lids to lower, an attempt to be unphased. But my voice is too breathy, and the way his eyes flash to my neck tells me he can see my raging pulse. Still, I try. “Something tells me you like it just as much. If not more.”

“And if I do?”

My mind races, thoughts of what my sister said flashing through one by one. But only one of those stands out.

“Be an adult and confront it. If you both communicate, you might be surprised to find out how something that seems impossible is actually easy.”

I swallow, but it gets stuck in my throat. My eyelashes flutter as I choke in the moment. Fear of saying the wrong thing grips me too tight to speak.

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