It’s hard to believe, but then I think back to the absolute clusterfuck that was Monday with Jillian and I remember, yes, it’s been one hell of a week so far.
On the upside, each day has been filled with a whirlwind of texts from Adam. His messages have been so playful and encouraging and it keeps reminding me of how much has changed between us.
The thought sends a flutter through my stomach.
Our conversations are easy, filled with laughter and teasing, and a smidge of innuendo. But there’s an undercurrent of something deeper, something that’s been steadily growing since Sunday.
It’s exciting and terrifying all at the same time, especially when I think about the personal training sessions he proposed.
Starting Monday, I’ll be stepping into a new kind of routine with him—one that’s both about fitness and something more personal.
And then there’s tomorrow …
We have another official date—this time at Hanabi for sushi.
The thought sends another flutter through my stomach, but it’s mixed with a growing unease that I haven’t been able to fully shake off.
That moment at the end of our kiss continues to haunt my mind. It was the stirring of a realization I can’t quite seem to wrap my head around.
His scent, up close and personal, reminded me so much of the sexy, mysterious man from Nocté.
It was a powerful, potent thing that made my heart race and my nether regions heat up in unexpected ways.
And then there was that quick inhalation—it was so subtle, but it was identical to the way the other man reacted before our first kiss.
I’m used my overactive imagination. Usually, I know when to dismiss it.
But no matter what I do, I can’t shake the thought away.
Could Adam be the same guy from Club Nocté?
It seems ludicrous, yet it clings to me, refusing to be dismissed.
My writer’s brain is screaming‘alert, alert!’and it’s very rarely wrong. At least—where books are concerned.
But this is no book.
It’sreal life.
As I walk the street, my mind continues to twist through scenarios.
If he was at that event at Nocté, then that would mean he was cheated on, too.
That’s how their rules work.
It’s a painful thought, and part of me aches for him,for both of us.If it’s even true.
But it’s a wild tangent, isn’t it?
The odds are—well, let’s just say I should play the lottery before something like this could be real.
Shaking my head, I try to stuff all of the questions aside.
Tonight is about escaping into the world of books at the Dirty B’s book club. Hanging out with those crazy ladies is quickly becoming my safe haven. It’s a place where romance isn’t just a possibility—it’s a certainty, neatly contained within the pages of our latest read.
When I’m finally standing in front of Dirty Books, I take a deep breath, ready to dive into discussions about fictional love stories—and forget my tangled thoughts for a beat. It’s easier to think about someone else’s heartache and happiness.
As I walk in, the familiar scent of books and the laughter of my fellow book lovers greet me.