Secret Kiss (4 page)

Then she’d become a liar. A very specific liar by naming
Adam
as her boyfriend. Well, she’d said that he was who she was seeing and her nana and papa had run with it, but still.

Continuing on the path of her ethical downfall, she’d been a borderline peeping Tom this morning when she’d spotted Adam in his wet shirt, doing all kinds of mental undressing as she’d sat in her car like a creeper.

Now, she was talking to herself. Not good. Not good at all.

Deciding that she would deal with her grandparents’ well-intentioned misconceptions later, she grabbed the files she’d taken home for the weekend from her backseat. For a few seconds, she seriously debated whether or not she should just go back home, climb in bed, throw the covers over her head, and hide from the world, but she decided to stick to her original plan to get some work done before Mr. Adam Dorsey set up shop beside her.

She headed up the stairway with more determination than she genuinely felt. Today, she was going to operate on the fake-it-’til-you-make-it mentality.

Would it be amazing if she was one of those cool girls that could totally ignore the fact that the guy who was currently headlining all of her day and nighttime fantasies was within a fifty-foot radius of her? Yes. It would. Unfortunately, she wasn’t one of those cool girls.

Jane had always been acutely self-aware. She might have been tallying up a lot of checks in the negative column as of late, but she was working with a lot of positive notches too. She was smart. Semi attractive. Loyal. Hardworking. Honest. And caring. But cool? She was so far from “cool” that it was laughable.

As she unlocked the office door and flipped the lights on, she almost laughed out loud, but it wasn’t because of her non-coolness. Nope, it was because, when she saw her reflection in the mirror that hung on the wall, what she saw was a perfect example of her un-coolness.

After tossing and turning in bed after her “Adam sighting” last night, she’d come up with the brilliant plan to ditch sleep altogether, get into the office early so she could actually get the work she needed to do today done, and apply her makeup a half hour before Adam was scheduled to arrive. That way, she’d look fresh when he saw her. The little hiccup she hadn’t counted on when devising her plan was that she’d see Adam on her way to work—at 5:30 a.m., with no makeup, and dark circles under her eyes. If anyone ever looked “like something the cat drug in,” it was her.

Shaking her head, Jane was determined to put all of that out of her mind and focus solely on work for the next three hours. It might be easier said than done, but she was always up for a challenge. And she had a sneaking suspicion that this new working and
living
situation was going to be the mother of all challenges. For her sanity and pride, at least.

*

Adam groaned as he dried himself off from his therapeutically hot shower. He was fairly certain he could feel every single fiber of every single muscle in his body, and they all hurt like hell. If he was this sore immediately after his workout, he didn’t even want to think about how bad he was going to feel when he woke up tomorrow.

This morning he abandoned any sort of cleaning, internal or otherwise, and opted to spend the few hours he had out in the garage. Last night, he’d felt a little silly for assembling his weight bench and home gym, but he was putting it to use not even six hours later. After watching Jane drive away, he closed himself in his garage and pushed his body to its limits. Since his run hadn’t worked its usual magic, he’d hoped that expending some energy of the weightlifting variety would do the trick. It didn’t. Not for lack of effort though.

No matter what he did, he couldn’t get the image of Jane’s face—or the feeling the sweet sight inspired in him—out of his brain. The last woman who had affected him, even ballpark close to this much, was Alexis. Adam wanted to do more than just put that chapter of his life behind him though. He wanted to slam the damn book and burn it. But he was too smart not to learn from his mistakes. From what he’d seen, people who lived their lives any other way always repeated their mistakes over and over again.

He wasn’t going down the same path again.

After grabbing his shaving cream, Adam pressed the top of the can and filled his palm with foam, remembering the first time he’d shaved and how badly he’d botched the job.

The summer before eighth grade, hair started growing in all kinds of places. Mainly areas that were covered with clothing, but not all. He’d been sporting a mustache that, at the time, felt like it rivaled Tom Selleck’s. Not wanting to show up on the first day looking like Magnum P.I., Adam took matters into his own hands.

Since it was just him and his mom, he didn’t have a male figure to ask what he should do. Sure, Stella Dorsey had a revolving door of boyfriends, but none that Adam ever liked or felt comfortable asking for advice. So he’d grabbed a pink razor from beneath the sink, pressed it to his face, and pulled down. No water. No soap. No shaving cream. It hurt like hell, but since he didn’t know any better, he just kept going. The end result was several bleeds and red bumps that he now knew were from razor burn.

When his mom and her boyfriend at the time came home and saw him, the douchebag of the week showed him how to shave—after they’d laughed their asses off. To learn the life skill of shaving, Adam only had to endure fifteen minutes of being called a dumbass, a pussy, and a little asshole, and that was just from his mom. Boyfriend X joked at Adam’s expense, but Adam never listened to the things the men in his mom’s life said. There was no point. They were never around long.

Blinking the memory away, Adam lifted his chin and tilted his head to the side as he pulled the razor down his face. The lesson he had taken from his shaving fiasco was to learn to do things right the first time so that he never had to involve anyone else. If he did it right, he maintained the greatest chance of keeping control. Control was something he hadn’t had when growing up, and he hadn’t had it in the Army. But now, as an adult civilian, he valued control above anything else.

Well, almost anything. Honesty trumped control, but just barely.

Adam filled his hands with water before splashing it on his face to rinse off the residual shaving cream. He was applying some aftershave when his phone dinged. His jaw tensed when he saw the area code.

It was home.

“Yeah,” he answered.

“Mr. Dorsey?” the unfamiliar voice on the other end of the line asked.

“Yes.”

“This is Reggie Lynch from Windsor Towers. I just received your notification that you would not be renewing your lease?”

Adam wasn’t sure why there was a question in the man’s voice. He’d sent an e-mail to alert his property manager that he wouldn’t be renewing and hired a company to clear out what little possessions he had last week.

“Yes.”

“My records show that the unit was scheduled to be vacant on the fifteenth?”

Again, Adam was confused as to why the man sounded unsure. It was the seventeenth of the month now, and the apartment had been vacant since the eleventh.

He figured he would cut to the chase. Obviously, there was some kind of confusion or mix-up, and he wanted it resolved quickly. There was no way he was walking into work late on his first day. Even if he was technically a contract employee.

“Mr. Lynch, is there an issue?”

“Since you waived your deposit and walk-through, we entered the unit today and found that it’s not. Vacant, that is.”

“What?” Adam knew that this had to be a mistake. The only person who had access to the apartment was…

No. She wouldn’t
.

“There was a woman there, an Alexis Du Bois, and she claims to be your wi—”

“Mr. Lynch, this issue will be resolved by close of business today. I’m sorry for any inconvenience this delay has caused you. Please invoice me for the additional days of occupancy.”

Apparently, she would.

Before giving the man the opportunity to answer, Adam disconnected the line and scrolled through his phone before tapping on “Lyndon and Assoc.” Trying to keep a lid on his boiling blood, he took a deep breath in through his nose. He knew exactly what Alexis was doing. She was trying to get his attention. Force his hand. Unfortunately for her, he wasn’t playing the game anymore.

“Lyndon and Associates. How may I direct your call?” a friendly voice answered.

“I need to speak with Declan.” Adam’s tone sounded much gruffer than he’d intended it to. It wasn’t the front desk girl’s fault that his day had turned into a steaming pile of shit.

“Mr. Lyndon is on a call. Would you like me to transfer you to his voicemail?”

“Just tell him to call Adam Dorsey when he gets a—”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Mr. Dorsey. I’ll put you right through,” the woman said rapidly.

While Adam waited, he pinched the bridge of his nose and leaned against the bathroom counter. No matter what Alexis was trying to pull, he would
not
be pulled into her web of lies. The only way to assure that that didn’t happen was to handle everything through lawyers.

That woman was worse than kryptonite; she was poison. A slow poison you didn’t even realize was seeping into your system until it was too late. Which made her the best at her highly dangerous occupation but the worst as a mate.

“Adam? Everything all right?”

The last thing Adam wanted was to worry his oldest friend, who was the closest thing Adam had to a brother. “Hey, D. If this is a bad time, I can—”

“No, it’s fine. I’m going over discovery and have my calls going to voicemail, but you are on the very short list of people my staff knows to put right through. What’s up?”

At the efficient, authoritative tone in D’s voice, a swell of pride filled Adam’s chest. When he and Declan had met each other in a group home they’d both been placed in when they were fifteen, they’d immediately bonded over their shared love of video games. They’d spent hours playing Super Mario Bros., Donkey Kong, and Top Gun on the busted, old Nintendo in the common living area the home had named—in what Adam could only guess was the director’s attempt at irony—the “game room.”

It wasn’t like those games were their favorites or anything. They were the only games they had available to them. And during that time, they’d talk about what they wanted to do in life. Adam knew he’d join the military. He had known he wanted to serve in the Army since he was four.

D knew he wanted to be an attorney—and not just any attorney, but a name-on-the-door guy He wanted to be the founding partner of a powerful firm. That was Declan’s dream, and now he was living it.

“I got a call from my apartment manager saying that, when they went to do the walk-through, they found a woman there.”

“Alexis.” His friend sighed.

“Yep.”

“I’ll take care of this. She’ll vacate by the end of the day,” Declan stated, sounding very official.

“That’s what I told them. Let me know if you need anything from my end.” Adam hated that he was putting his friend out, but thankfully, it was his job and he was very good at it.

“No worries, man. I’ll let you know as soon as it’s resolved.”

“Thanks, man.”

Adam set the phone down and dropped his head back. He’d love to think that this latest stunt would be the last he’d hear from Alexis, but he doubted it. This was just one more reminder to never again go down the path that had put him in this situation.

He learned from his mistakes. Always. Which meant he needed to steer clear of a certain dark-haired, golden-eyed angel who was currently occupying his every thought. That should be easy, considering the fact that he was going to be working with her and living across the street from her for the next six months.

Yep. Easy.

‡

W
hat is that?

Jane tried to block out the annoying, indiscernible sound that was plaguing her. She was floating. All she wanted to do was float.

“Jane!” A loud voice cut through her consciousness.

Someone was calling her name.

“Jane! Wake up!”

The voice grew louder, and Jane realized she needed to open her eyes. One problem though. She couldn’t. As much as she tried, the little suckers stayed shut. While she attempted to force them open through sheer will, she realized someone was shaking her. The jostle served to pop them right up.