Adam POV
With all the clothes Melissa has in that wardrobe, why did they have to pick that dress? Loose, yes… but short. Too short. And damn it, every time she moved, the fabric clung to her body in a way… in a way I shouldn't even notice. Adam Black, she's your intern.
Even so, I couldn't take my eyes off her from the moment she walked into the room. Her laughter with Melissa caught my attention, and from there it was a disaster: I looked too much, swallowed too hard, too many times. What the hell is wrong with me? I'm losing it.
Lunch went better than I expected. Since Kate's death, there's always been a shadow when we gather, but today… all the focus seemed to be on her. On Jordan.
Mila didn't give her a break, bombarding her with questions and still managing to secure a promise that, on Jordan's next day off, she'd make her favorite dessert. She seemed uncomfortable sometimes, blushed whenever our eyes met, but always answered with a sincere, light smile.
And she stayed after lunch. And so did I. Unlike other days, when I'd make excuses to head straight to the restaurant. Not today. Why? I don't know. All I know is that I was still supposed to be annoyed with her. The image of her having dinner with Lorenzo kept haunting me, more precisely what might have happened during that dinner.
After lunch, we all ended up playing charades with Mila. And Jordan was so terrible it was impossible not to laugh. I couldn't stop. No one could. But she didn't seem offended—on the contrary. She'd just throw up her hands and repeat, "I told you!" before bursting into laughter that filled the room. A laugh that touched me more than it should.
And, in the middle of the chaos, I guessed a few of her clues that no one else managed. Me. Only me. I was the only one who figured out the gestures she made so we could guess what was on the card. Ridiculous how much that pleased me.
I need help. Psychological help. Urgent.
"So you're giving Jordan a ride." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. And it hadn't even been my idea—Margaret had suggested it, since we were headed the same way. I glanced at my brother. He'd been quieter than usual during lunch. Not that he was ever talkative… Mila got that from Kate entirely.
We'd stepped out onto the porch. I could still smell the damp grass, reminding me of Jordan's fall. I should've caught her. I wasn't close enough. Unfortunately. The image of her in that moment hit me again: light-pink top soaked, practically see-through against her bra and skin, her face smeared with dirt. Sexy, in a way I didn't even understand. When I pulled her into my arms to help her, my whole body reacted. I had to force myself to step back.
I shook my head, trying to shove her out of my mind, and focused on Cameron. He was serious, thoughtful, staring at the horizon while smoking.
"You okay?" I asked, suspicious.
"Mila's staying here tonight," he answered, dodging my question. I raised an eyebrow.
"I'll bring the beer, you make dinner?" he added quickly.
That was code. Beer and dinner between us meant serious talk, confession. And usually too much drinking. It had been months since the last time. We're close, we talk almost every day about ordinary things, but these sessions… they were different. Heavier. Necessary.
And honestly… this time it was exactly what I needed. Because, even if I don't want to admit it, part of me needs to let something out.
"Deal."
"Hi." A timid voice sounded behind me. "I'm ready."
I turned. She was there. That awkward smile, cheeks flushed again, hands fidgeting in front of her as if they didn't know where to rest. My body reacted before my head. I took a step toward her. Just one. But I couldn't look away.
"Interesting." My brother's voice cut through the moment, pulling me out of my thoughts.
"See you in an hour," he said, laying a hand on my shoulder before turning to her. "It was a pleasure, Jordan. I hope to see you again soon."
He smiled at her. A wide smile. Too wide for my liking.
"Oh… yes! I already have your address," she replied. I raised an eyebrow. I didn't like that at all.
"I mean… it was a pleasure meeting you too. And Mila is adorable. She gave me your address so I can bring her the cake she asked for next Sunday." She clarified.
Cameron chuckled and shook his head.
"You don't need to—"
"I promised," she cut in firmly.
"All right then. Until—"
"Monday," she interrupted again, smiling with satisfaction.
"Let's go," I said, harsher than I intended, but not sure why I felt so irritated. I strode toward the car. I glanced back just to confirm she was following. She was.
And I also caught my brother's big, smug grin.
Idiot.
When I reached my car, I found myself opening the passenger door for her. I only realized what I was doing once I was already closing it behind her.
What the hell, Adam? Who even does this anymore? Opening doors for women… No. Not women. Don't think of her as a woman. That's dangerous territory. Intern. That's what she is. My intern. Safer that way.
I raked a hand through my hair, irritated with myself, and walked around to my side.
I sat down and, before even turning the key, I looked at her. Mistake. The dress. Sitting down, the hem rode even higher, showing more skin than should've been visible. My brain cursed silently, but my body didn't cooperate. I shifted in my seat, trying to ignore the obvious discomfort in my body, my fingers tightening around the wheel. This was going to be one hell of a ride.
And, of course, she had to make it harder. She was still struggling with the seatbelt. I watched her tug, release, tug again, but the strap wouldn't budge. It got stuck halfway, mocking her clumsiness. She scrunched her nose, bit her lower lip, and tried again. Nothing.
I let out a long sigh, ran a hand through my hair, and closed my eyes for a second. I swear it felt deliberate.
"For God's sake…" I muttered, losing patience.
I leaned over her. The movement was automatic, but by the time I realized, I was already too close. Her perfume, mixed with the freshness of her shower, hit me—warm and sweet at the same time. I tried to focus on the damn seatbelt.
I slid my hand along the strap, let it retract what she had pulled, shifted it slightly into the right position, and with one smooth tug it finally gave way without resistance.
"It was stuck…" I murmured, more to myself than to her. I pulled it slowly until it clicked into place, the metallic snap sounding almost too loud in the silence between us.
And in that moment, I felt her breath against my neck. Steady, but quickened. Close. Too close.
I lifted my head and, before pulling back, realized our faces were centimeters apart. Millimeters. Her eyes found mine, and for an instant the world outside ceased to exist.
All it would take was one move. Just one. For our lips to touch.
Shit, Adam. Step back.