I settle back into my seat and refocus on catching some bass, feeling my job here is done. I can only hope my night out goes as well as the morning…
I rap my knuckles on the door and walk inside without waiting for permission. I know Adam doesn’t have a chick inside, because if he did, there’s no way he’d be going out with me tonight. I can hear the strumming of a guitar from out on the porch, and I can’t hold back my eye roll and smirk.
“God, man, you are such a clichéd douche. Save the tortured musician act for the bar. I don’t have a vagina, so no need to impress me.”
I round the corner, into the living room, and my eyes settle on a sparkling fairy with wide eyes and a pretty pink mouth, set in the shape of an “O.” She’s perched on the edge of Adam’s sofa, her pale yellow dress barely reaching the tops of her knees.
Why do I always make a supreme ass out of myself anytime this girl is around?
I grip the back of my neck and shake my head. I hear a low, amused chuckle coming from Adam, and I shoot him an irritated frown.
Before I can launch into my litany of excuses and apologies, Celia bursts out laughing. “You had better not be trying to get in my pants, Adam Hunt, or so help me, I’ll wrap those guitar strings around your sweet little neck.”
Celia’s unexpected sass stuns me into silence, and believe me, that’s no easy feat. I’m usually the master of smartass. My comebacks have comebacks.
“Aw, you know you want a piece of this, Celia. Don’t try to deny it,” Adam motions seductively down his chest. In pure douche fashion, he winks and juts his chin out in her direction.
“Oh my God, I think I just vomited a little in my mouth,” she says, wrapping her delicate fingers around her neck and making the universal choking sign. “Are there women that actually fall for that drivel?”
“Like moths to the flame. Bees to honey. Like … like,” Adam says as he waves his hand trying to conjure the words.
My head flits back and forth between them as I watch this ping-pong match of digs, and I love it. This girl just may be able to hold her own with Adam and me after all. She may not be as fragile as I thought.
“Crabs to the crotch?” she fires back with a belly laugh. “Tone it down a skoch, Rico Suave.”
“Whew, crabs to the crotch. That’s a wrap. She got you, man. Just surrender,” I say as my shoulders shake with laughter.
After setting down his guitar, Adam raises his hands and bows his head. “I’ll keep my crabs to myself, I promise, Celia. Besides, Lily and Gage would kill me if you stopped coming around. You are firmly in my no-date zone.”
“Damn straight. Those munchkins love Aunt Cece.” She shrugs her shoulders and tips her head to the side. “Cain, I hope you don’t mind if I tag along. I promise, I won’t be too much trouble.” She turns to face me and flutters her eyelashes sweetly—a little too sweetly. I’m pretty damn sure she’s playing me.
“Nah, Tink, I don’t mind,” I say with a wave of my hand and an “aw shucks” expression.
And damn if it isn’t the truth. Initially, I was irritated with Adam for inviting her, but right now, in this moment, I’m cool with it. I’m cool with her. As far as I’m concerned, the fairy can stay.
As we file out the front door, I hear Adam whisper, “You know I don’t really have crabs, right?”
Never one to miss an opportunity to mess with him, I chime right in. “You don’t have to lie to kick it, dude. We still love you.”
“I have noticed you pulling on it a lot,” Celia adds with wide innocent eyes. “Totally makes sense now.”
“Ah, fuck y’all, man.”
Yeah, she’ll fit right in…
“Dancing Shoes” by Green River Ordinance
Present Day
THE COURTYARD IS packed tonight, the patio filled to the brim with patrons on the prowl and the line at the bar a mile long. Luckily, we got here early enough to perch ourselves on barstools with a clear view of the room and easy access to the bartenders. I know Adam opted to come here instead of our usual prowling spot, The Keg, for Celia’s benefit, and I’m in total agreement. I don’t care how feisty she is, Celia doesn’t belong in that meat market. The Courtyard is a little more low key and relaxed—more acoustic jams and beer as opposed to Jager bombs and sweaty cleavage.
Not that there’s anything wrong with sweaty cleavage. I’m a huge fan.
“Why don’t you jump up on that stage, Casanova, and show ‘em how it’s done,” I taunt. I wiggle my eyebrows at Adam as I take a pull from my beer. In truth, I’ve seen Adam fiddle with his guitar¸ but I’ve never seen him perform for a crowd. Drunk chicks throwing themselves at him, panties flying in the air? I bet he would eat that shit up.
Adam’s quick-witted response is to pelt me in the head with a bottle cap, and I give him a much-deserved one-finger salute. He knows I’m just messing with him. Adam and I settled into an easy banter from the very start of our friendship.
“So, Cain, are you excited about helping out at the clinic?” Celia trains her eyes on me, gauging my response. She leans slightly forward to get a good look since we’re lined up at the bar with Adam between us.
I have no clue what she’s talking about, and it’s clear she knows it by her fallen expression. She slaps Adam’s shoulder in irritation and scowls. “You said you were gonna talk to him.”
“Ow! You don’t have to hit me, woman. Cain and I haven’t caught up with each other in a while.” Adam rubs his arm as if a two hundred fifty pound man punched him.
“I’ll ask him now,” he says, turning to me with a contrite look on his face. “Cain, would you be interested in helping me with a new project at New Horizons?”
“Um, sure?” I answer, more than a little confused. “Wait, I knew Celia worked there, but when did you start working at the clinic, Adam?”
“He’s starting up a new program for domestic violence victims. Isn’t that great?” Celia beams with pride, and, in that moment, I realize she and Adam have become closer than I realize. I know Celia babysits for Adam on occasion, so I really I shouldn’t be surprised. He’d never leave Lily and Gage in her care if he didn’t trust her. I guess I never gave it much thought before now. The tie between them doesn’t feel in the least bit romantic, though. I sense more of a sibling-type bond.
“Someone in the community donated a good-sized house to the clinic just a few months ago, and we’re gonna use it as a shelter. We’ll provide a safe place to stay while these women figure out their next move. Pressing charges, restraining orders, employment, relocation—we’ll assist them with whatever they need. We were thinking you could help with relocation, procuring their belongings in some cases, those type of things,” Adam explains, and I feel the passion for this project pouring off him. It makes sense, of course. I’m glad he’s found an outlet to deal with his sister’s death. I’m sure his grief stoked his interest in this project.
“We want you to be the muscle,” Celia chimes in from behind Adam.
I choke back a laugh and take a swig of my beer. “Sure, I’d be more than happy to be pretty boy’s bodyguard. We wouldn’t want him to break a nail.”
“Screw you, dude,” Adam replies with a chuckle. “You know what she means. It would be good to have two of us on hand if a situation arises.”
“No, I get it, I’m just fucking around. I’d love to help. Just tell me what you need, and I’ll be there.”
“Yay!” Celia cheers as she claps and hops in her seat.