Page 15 of Debt of My Soul

Letting out a breath, I park as close to the house as I can, and Adam runs out with a jacket over his head. As if I can’t get out of the car fast enough, I fumble with the handle, but he beats me to it. He yanks the door open, and I’m greeted with a smile that slices through the chill of the rain.

“Hi. Bit wet out, huh?”

“It decided to rain as soon as I left the grocery store.” I smile up at him.

He moves the jacket to hover over me when I step out. “I’ll get the bags. You can go inside.”

“And let you have all the fun in the rain?” I wink.

Wait—am I flirting?

His grin widens as he tosses the jacket to the ground. “Ah, she loves the rain. Good.”

Is he flirting?

He holds my stare, but I divert mine to the side like I expect someone to be watching us. We make our way to the trunk, where we each grab as many bags as we can load onto our arms, then hobble to the kitchen and dump the bags on the counter.

Laughing, I wring out my hair. Drops of water bead down my back, the crisp coolness doing nothing to counteract the heat pooling low in my core as Adam smiles at me.

I’ll admit there were times during my relationship with Chris I appreciated another attractive male, but I never let it go any further. It didn’t fester in my mind. But these new feelings of attraction—after I thought I’d never think of another male that way for the rest of my life—feel foreign.

He reaches up to strip his shirt off and my breath hitches as his creamy bare chest stands out in front of my stainless-steel fridge. Instead of continuing to ogle him, I busy myself by digging through the groceries for the cold items while Adam tosses on another shirt he has stashed in his tool bag. Snagging the oat milk, I push past him to the fridge. Seconds later, there’s warmth behind me.

“Here.” He hands me the sticks of butter I purchased and all of a sudden, I’m having trouble remembering why. I slide them into their spot in the drawer and turn to find Adam stepping into me. “Fleur.”

I close my eyes, wishing the sound of my name on his lips washed over me, beckoned me … but it doesn’t. My eyelids open as he tilts his chin inches from my face. I try backing up, avoiding this, but it would put me inside the open fridge.

Lips descend toward me, and as they graze mine, I lower my head, looking at my soaked sneakers. I wiggle my toes. Embarrassed.

“I’m sorry,” he says, taking a step back.

His apology draws my attention. I like him. Sincerely. He’s been a good friend for the month we’ve been working together. Why am I turning away from him? This would be a good thing for me. Right?

“No. No, Adam. I’m just … I’m fragile right now. I was in something long-term.” It never felt right telling him details about Chris, and I’m not sure I have the energy to explain right now.

“Totally understand. I’m being unprofessional.”

Somewhere, in some remote I-haven’t-been-touched dark alley of my mind, I scream at myself.Give him a chance.

I hold his gaze and press up on my toes to kiss his cheek. “I like you, Adam, our friendship. I’d like to go slow.”

The look of disappointment lifts from his frown and his eyes sparkle with hope. “Yeah? Because I’m crazy about you.”

I bite my lip, the corner of my mouth lifting.

Then I wait. Wait for the fluttering to come at his words. It doesn’t. At least not before the next words are out of his mouth.

“Let me take you to dinner. Please.”

I nod, wondering if my heart is just as lost as I am when I drive in the rain. And unfortunately, my rubber bands snap more than usual tonight.

“Chris came by the house yesterday.”

I pause, letting the sheet I’m tucking into a perfect hospital corner fall. Pink floral wallpaper garners my attention as I adjust my earbud. I’m sure I’ve heard my mother wrong.

“Came by?”

“Asked where you were and if you were okay,” she says flatly, and I catch myself almost sitting on the freshly pressed sheets. Cotton laundry softener tickles my nose as I press my palms into my eyes.

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