Page 54 of The Second Deal

–Adema

Somethingbrushesalong my face and jolts me awake.Myeyes snap wide open until bright light blinds me and has me rubbing my eyes, before my vision refocuses.

Adrianwatches me.

“Hey, baby.Goodmorning,” he greets softly.Hisfingertips trace my cheek. “Nicecomin’ home to you in my bed.”

“Whatthe fuck,”Igroan in a whisper.Then, my head snaps up sharply.

Kris.

Zak.

Theshow.

Adrianwatching me with a small smirk, beside me in his bed.

Idrag a hand over my face. “Shit.”

Hechuckles, brushing hair off my shoulder. “Ialways thought you were cute when you’re asleep.”

Ignoringthe comment,Iask in a voice hushed from hoarseness, “IsKrisgone yet?”

Thisis whatIget for filling in forZakat the concert and not being properly warmed up.

“Yeah.”Heglances at the window illuminated with morning light that glints off his nose ring. “Shealways goes home before sunrise.”

Adrian’sgaze lingers on the window, the sunlight giving his features a soft glow and highlighting the honey color in his brown eyes.Hishair is damp and combed, and the scent of his woody soap is strong on his skin.Evenhis face is freshly shaven.He’sshirtless because of course he is.

Asmirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Maybenext time you come to a show you should warm up.”

Iwhack his thigh and he jumps. “Thereain’t gonna be a next time.”

“Mm, sure.”Heturns towards his nightstand, reaching for something ,and brings a colorful mosaic mug into view. “Youstill like your coffee dark and sweet?”

I’mcareful to keep my lower half covered and not bump into the coffee asIsit up. “Um, yeah,”Isay, taking the mug from him with furrowed brows. “Thanks,Iguess.”

Istifle a groan whenItake a sip and it tastes like perfection.

Sonof a bitch.

Clearingmy throat,Iask, “IsZakokay?”

“He’sfine.Evenwent toMass.”

Ofcourse the goodCatholicboy did. “Didhe tell you what happened?”

“Mhmm.”Weightshifts beside me, making the bed creak.Adrian’sfingers trace the bandage on my arm before leading it to his lips to kiss just above the gauze. “Youshouldn’t have left the gig last night.”

Ihone in on the white chalk onAdrian’sdresser.Ichew my lip and mull the thought over in my head for a long moment before voicing it. “You’rethe one behind the shit going on at the bridge.”

Hehums against my shoulder. “No.”

Mybrows knit together asIturn to look at him. “Thenwhat the hell are the chalk and black candles for?It’sthe same shit on the bridge.”

“You’rekidding, right?Howmany other people inBexarCountyhave chalk and black candles, you think?Ico-own a botanica, forChrist’ssake.”Hetaps my arm. “Maybeyou’rethe one behind the bridge since you’re the one finding shit, huh?”

Somethingstill isn’t adding up. “Whydidn’t you want me to findZaklast night?”

---