Page 64 of To Hate Adam Connor

We sat in tense silence as we listened to the soft murmurings of Frank Sinatra. The longer there was no little human running through the front door, the more anger seemed to emanate from Adam. The more I stayed, the more I felt like I was intruding on another family moment, which was a weird feeling after I’d already intruded on them on multiple occasions.

“So, what are those?” I asked, motioning toward the papers when I couldn’t take the silence any longer.

“New scripts.”

“Come on, I’m sure you can give me more than that.”

He glanced back at the front door once again, then turned around to reach for the papers. “New offer. I have a contract with the studio and I owe them one more movie. They sent over two scripts for me to choose from, but I’m not so sure about either of them.”

“Can I see?” I held out my hand and waited.

“This is one of those things you can’t mention anywhere else, Lucy.”

I rolled my eyes and wiggled my fingers. “Give it to me.”

He handed them over, reluctantly. I had better things to do than go around and spread rumors about the new movie Adam Connor would star in.

“How’s the agent thing going?” he asked as I looked through the first script.

I answered him without lifting my eyes from the pages in my hands. “I’m almost there. I narrowed it down to two publishers, and I’m waiting to hear back from them. I also pursued other deals—audiobook, etc. What’s this one about?”

He scooted until he was sitting very, I repeat, very close to me. I willed my heartbeat to slow down, because what the hell, heart? What’s wrong with you? We’re not supposed to like the guy, remember? No need to do cartwheels just because he is within touching distance.

His arm brushed my shoulder when he took the script from my hands, and I happened to inhale at the very same moment. What a coincidence, right?

I took a deep breath and felt a tingle on my arm where his skin had made contact with mine. First of all, stupid skin and stupid tingle. Second, he smelled like whiskey and something warm, wild, and deliciously masculine. It was the perfect invitation to nuzzle his neck and get lost in his scent and body…which was a very, very bad idea. I closed my eyes to ignore him, but that only intensified his scent and how close he was sitting to me. He smelled good enough to attack right then and there. If it had been someone else, I wouldn’t have even thought twice before I did exactly that, but with Adam, I forced myself to stay still.

You might think maybe scooting away from him could’ve solved the problem, but I was not a pussy; I would never shy away from a guy just because I wanted him. Screw that. If he wanted to play with me, I’d play him right back.

Trying my best to breathe from my mouth without looking like a weirdo, I leaned toward him and let my arm rest against his as he checked the script in his hands. He seemed so relaxed, which angered me even more.

There I was trying my best not to act like he was affecting me, and he didn’t even notice that I was having a mental breakdown from his proximity. Hell, I was seconds away from letting my inner singer out to play and singing him “Pillowtalk” by Zayn.

How fun it would be to piss off the neighbors with Adam Connor, indeed—especially when those neighbors were Olive and Jason.

My mind millions of miles away, naked in a king bed with Adam, I had trouble focusing on his words when he started talking.

“In this one I’m supposed to be a devoted husband to a socialite only to end up killing her and running away as a dedicated detective tries to catch me.”

“Boring,” I managed to say.

“Yea, that got a no from me too.”

“Shouldn’t your agent get something better for you?”

“He should, which is why I’m getting rid of him.”

I lifted an eyebrow and gave him a side-glance. “From what I hear, you’re getting rid of an awful lot of people. Is it true what they’re saying? That you are lashing out at people who work for you because of the divorce?” I made the mistake of looking into his eyes, and he held my gaze with a hard expression on his face.

“Looks like spying on someone isn’t enough for you, you also keep track of them through the tabloids.”

“Please, why would I even keep track of what’s going on in your life? I just happened to read about it when I was looking through Olive and Jason’s premiere photos. One link took me to another and then another…I wasn’t checking up on you, trust me. I lived in your house for a week, remember? There is nothing about you that’s exciting. Hell, even Dan has a more colorful life than you.”

He tossed the script away with unnecessary force and it landed on the floor. I gave him a quizzical look, but he pretty much ignored me, already focused on the next script.

“Is that the winner?”

“How did you come to know about Dan’s colorful life?” The question was harmless enough, but the way he was holding himself so still as if the answered mattered felt strange.

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