Page 100 of Adam
One. Two. Three.
He doesn’t stay behind. I hear his steps right away. By the time I reach four, he’s already beside me. What is that feeling in my stomach?
“Five,” he says quietly.
And that sly smirk is back on his lips.
“What are you doing?” I ask, my voice strained as I push myself up.
He grabs the bars and hoists himself up, facing me. “Making suremyresponsibility doesn’t get hurt.”
I scoff. “I don’t need you to babysit me.”
He lifts himself up with ease, as if he weighs nothing, and arches a brow.
“I’m not here to care about what you think you need,” he says, lips curving in a lazy, knowing smirk.
He’s such an asshole! How dare he?
My eyes squint in anger as I try to think of a proper response.
“Then stop acting like you do.”
Switching bars, he closes the space between us and pulls up to meet my gaze. “You think my face and my words are the whole of me?” Closer. “You haven’t seen what I’m like when I stop pretending to be civil.”
My breath catches as I gulp forcefully. My eyes roam all over his flushed face, that surprisingly seems too calm now—not asurprise anymore, I guess. Arrogance twists across his features, satisfaction etched there like he’s enjoying every second of this.
I’ve never met a man like him. One second he’s pure danger and the next, he’s gentle enough to make me forget who he really is. He keeps switching masks, and I can’t tell which one hides the monster and which one hides the man.
Not that I’m any different. I hide just like he does, maybe worse.
I want to push his buttons, see how far he can hold on before he snaps, just like he does with me. I want to know if that smug, knowing smirk of his will fade when I cross the line, or if he’ll drag me over it with him. Will he keep up with his so-called professionalism, or will he lean in with that infuriatingly taunting side and show me just how well he plays the game I’m about to start?
Without thinking twice, I wrap my legs around his waist. His eyes widen with surprise, but he manages to stay composed.
“What are you capable of when you’re not civil, Mitch?” I raise a brow, mirroring his arrogance.
It’s all just a game to him. A game to prove his power and dominance over me, just like he wants to do with everyone around him.
Little does he know how willing I am to play.
His eyes burn into me, cold, almost soulless, and for a moment, my blood runs cold.
“Let go,” he says gutturally.
I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of obeying, but his stare shuts down every thought I have. So, I do it. I let go of the bar, and he follows. His hands catch my thighs mid-air, and then we’re on the ground. Slowly, and while he grips my legs tighter, he walks me to the window.
He sets me onto the ledge, his eyes never leaving mine. My arms are still wrapped around his neck, trying to balance myself and mask my mixed emotions.
“You’re testing me again,” he says quietly, his teeth grinding.
“Why, Mitch? You can’t handle your own business?” My palm settles delicately on his firm torso.
I’m walking straight into disaster, but turning back isn’t an option anymore.
He’ll ruin me in ways I won’t recover from, I know it. The thing is … I’ll still go willingly.
There’s no logic left. Only the pull of his darkness, wrapping tighter around me with every breath I take, even when I don’t dare to admit it.
