Bittersweet by Noelle Adams Page A

indulging herself in a way she
never did anymore.
    It
was very late when she finally got back home. She’d felt a little dizzy during
the cab ride, but she wasn’t drunk enough to be sick.
    She
said goodbye to Jane and headed up to her apartment. She stopped in front of
her door, making a point of reminding herself to be quiet as she went in
because Logan would be sleeping.
    She
wondered if Adam and Logan would both be asleep on the couch the way they had
the last time. She almost hoped they were. They’d looked so adorable like that.
    Snickering
over the memory, she made a great effort to close the door behind her without
slamming it. Then she walked through the entryway, her heels clicking on the hardwood
floor and her cardigan slung over her arm.
    She
dropped the cardigan, her purse, and her keys on the entry table and was
extremely startled by the noise her keys made as they dropped.
    She
took a deep breath, thinking it felt incredibly warm inside. She pulled the
fabric of her top away from her skin a few times, trying to generate a breeze.
    When
Adam appeared in front of her without warning, she gave a little squeal of
surprise.
    “Sorry
to startle you,” he murmured, his observant eyes scanning her from her messy
hair to her sexy high heels. Despite the blur in her mind, she was acutely
conscious of the fact that his eyes spent more time than they should have at
her neckline. “Is everything all right?”
    “Yeah,”
she said, smiling at him vaguely. It was so nice of him to stay with Logan. Who
would ever have imagined she’d have Adam Peterson—trivia-game tycoon—babysitting
for her one-year-old son. “Yeah. Yeah.”
    She
wasn’t quite sure why she repeated the word three times, but it seemed like the
appropriate thing to do.
    His
eyes narrowed as they studied her face. “Did you have a good time?”
    “Yeah.
Yeah.” It still felt excessively hot in the apartment, so she pulled her top
into a fan again. “Yeah. Why is it so hot?”
    Adam’s
eyebrows arched up and the corner of his mouth quivered. “I see you’ve had
quite a good time tonight.”
    “It
was fun. I danced. I haven’t danced in ages.” It seemed only appropriate that
she give Adam some sort of proof of her evening activities. He was a
conscientious researcher and wouldn’t necessarily believe unconfirmed reports.
So she swung her hips and spun around, thinking she would have done better with
a little music.
    With
a low chuckle, Adam took her arm and pulled her toward the living room. “Why
don’t you sit down for a minute? I’ll get you some water.”
    Zoe
frowned at him dramatically and then gave him what she believed to be a
well-deserved huff for interrupting her dancing. But she let him lead her over
to the couch because she felt another wave of dizziness hit her.
    She
breathed deeply and stared out the windows at the lights of the city.  It felt
like there was something important she needed to do or say.
    “Here,”
Adam said, sitting down beside her after handing her a glass of ice water. “How
much did you have to drink?”
    With
an intimidating glare, she said, “Not that much. A few.”
    “A
few?”
    She
gave a firm nod. “A few.” She couldn’t remember, but it hadn’t really been that
many. “I may be just a little intoxicated.”
    “I
think that might be a possibility.” It sounded like Adam was hiding a laugh.
    She
looked at him suspiciously. He wore a gray t-shirt, and she liked how the soft
cotton looked stretched across his shoulders. He had very good shoulders. And a
very nice neck. And the most irresistible kinks in his brown hair, since it was
just a few days until his next cut. And his mouth was quivering in that way she
loved—like he couldn’t quite repress a smile no matter how hard he tried to
keep his composure.
    “Are
you laughing at me?” she demanded. She liked that he was laughing, but it didn’t
seem right that she should be the reason for it.
    “Never.”
    This
was a satisfying