Starfire (Peaches Monroe #3)(53)
Author: Mimi Strong

“Guilty,” Adrian said. His father’s cop name around town was Stormy, which is a pretty cool nickname, albeit not as cool as Peaches.

As he backed away from the table, Mr. DeNirro pointed a finger at me. “We’ll see you soon for your birthday, won’t we?”

“Of course!” Even as I said it, though, I got a bad feeling. My birthday was coming up in October, and given the way my summer had gone, I couldn’t imagine where I might be when I turned twenty-three.

Coming to DeNirro’s for my birthday, and getting my photo taken at one of the red-checkered tables—that was my tradition. My routine.

If Adrian was right about happiness being the perfect blend of novelty and routine, I was out of balance. With the store moving, and the fake wedding coming up, nothing at all felt routine or safe.

“You’re not even listening,” Adrian said.

I jerked my head up to look at him. “Beg pardon?”

He smiled, his blue eyes focused on me. “We’ve got a killer day ahead of us tomorrow, and a killer week. Would you like to walk down to the movie theater and watch a movie?”

“Do you know what’s playing?”

“Does it matter? I’ll put my arm around you and we can cuddle in the back row for two hours, just me and you.”

There’s only one screen in our town’s movie theater, so I didn’t have any idea what I was committing to, but I agreed. Sitting in the dark for two hours with Adrian’s arm around me sounded perfect.

~

The movie was one of those romantic comedies where the hard-working business executive woman hires a smokin’ hot man she thinks is g*y to be her escort for a fancy dinner, then gets drunk and gives him a lap dance, only to discover that’s not a roll of candies in his pocket, and he’s not so g*y after all.

The movie was good, and I liked it almost as much as the one about the workaholic business lady who pays a male art model to pretend to be her boyfriend at a family picnic, only to get drunk and make out with him, and find out he isn’t so g*y after all.

Come to think of it, if high-powered executive ladies would just ask their gigolos if they’re g*y or not, a lot of comedy hijinx would never happen. But then, uptight business ladies would never find out that deep down, they don’t want to be president of the company as much as they crave the animal touch of a younger man, plus all his hot baby gravy. I’d be offended if it wasn’t so damn enjoyable to watch. Especially the makeover scenes. Sigh.

Adrian and I walked out of the theater with smiles on our faces.

“Sorry it wasn’t an action flick,” I said. “There’s a new Tom Cruise movie next week, and I’ll take you to that.”

“I didn’t mind this one. I like a story about two people overcoming one simple and incredibly stupid misunderstanding to find lasting happiness together.”

I laughed, and Adrian looped his arm around my shoulders as we walked up the street. “My car is this way,” he said.

“You mean your mom’s car.”

His eyes went to my gold watch.

My words hung in the air, and I instantly realized I’d said the wrong thing.

He was quiet, looking down as we walked under the glow of a streetlamp, our shadow becoming squat, then stretching out.

“I was just kidding,” I said. “I don’t care that you borrow your mom’s car, or live with your parents. I just say dumb things, all the time. It’s kind of my thing.”

“You know, I won’t be poor forever. I’m taking a break right now to get some perspective. When I get out there again, I’ll have experience, as well as the wisdom from losing everything once.”

“Out there? Do you mean you won’t stay in Beaverdale?”

He snorted. “Why would I stay?”

“Hmm.” I didn’t explain further, but just let his idiot question hang in the air until it came to him.

After a moment, he said, “Of course you’d go with me.”

“And knock around in some giant, empty house while you work yourself into the ground?”

“Wow, Peaches. Since you have a crystal ball and everything, would you mind grabbing us some winning lottery numbers while you’re at it?”

We got to the car, and he held the passenger door open for me.

I looked up at the starry sky. “Maybe I’d rather walk home.”

“It’s past eleven. Just get in the car, and please don’t be mad at me for not including you in my imaginary future.” He grabbed me in a hug and nuzzled my neck as he tickled my sides. “I want you in my future. You know I want you. I tell you every time I see you, how crazy you make me.”

I giggled as he kept nuzzling my neck.

“Ooh, I want you, I want you,” he growled.

“Okay, okay!” I pushed him away and got in the car.

He got in and started driving us back to my house.

We didn’t talk much on the short drive, and when he walked me up to the porch, I couldn’t tell if he expected an invitation inside, or just hoped for one.

He stopped on the second-to-last step for the porch, so we were nearly eye to eye. He brushed my hair aside and dove for my neck.

“You can’t sleep over,” I said as he kissed my neck under my ear, where his lips felt so good.

“We won’t sleep,” he growled.

I bit my lower lip, trying to think of the proper thing to say. I’d never dated anyone seriously enough to have to tell them to take a hike because I had my period. (Yes, it had come earlier that day, phew!)

“I’ve got cramps,” I said, even though the ones from earlier that day had subsided.

He looked confused. “From the pasta?” His eyes moved back and forth, the old hamsters turning the wheels of Girl Translation in his brain. “Oh!” he said, finally. “We could just cuddle.”

I clasped him on both sides of his face and looked him directly in the eyes, enjoying this rare moment of us being equal heights. “Adrian, you are the sweetest part-time, shared boyfriend a girl could have.”

He moved in closer, and instead of kissing me, he rubbed the tip of his nose on mine.

“See you tomorrow,” he said, and he left.

The house door behind me swung open so suddenly, I jumped in surprise.

Shayla stood in the door, looking furious. “Young lady, get in this house immediately.”

“Oh, f**k.” I hung my head and marched right in. My first guess was Adrian wasn’t the only one who’d read about my engagement on the internet.