The Hourglass

Forty-Eight

My stomach is jittering as I approach Adam's house. It's only been a week or so since I was last here, yet somehow, it feels longer. I wanted this to work, though, so I decided to be on my best behavior. I even came without makeup on, and I'm in a pair of baggy sweats, my hair in a messy bun. There was absolutely nothing attractive or seductive about me right now. And for good measure, I was wearing a sports bra and my period panties - you know, just in case I still found myself feeling tempted. 

I knock on the door, and Adam answers swiftly. The look on his face is similar to that of someone who has seen a cute kitten. I suppress a giggle. No one wants to jump a kitten. Adam smiles and pulls me in for a hug, inhaling my scent and moaning slightly. 

"Hi, Beautiful," he greets me. 

"Hi, Handsome," I mumble into his shoulder. 

He releases me, and we head inside towards the kitchen. "Make yourself comfortable," he instructs as he goes back to the counter where he's preparing to chop vegetables.

"Don't you want help?" I ask, coming over towards him. 

He smiles down at me. "If you want, you can, or you can relax. I don't mind either way." 

My heart warms as I meet the gaze of his eyes. It felt so nice to have a man care about me enough to do something as simple as make me dinner. "Well, according to the movies I watch, cooking together is supposed to be romantic," I hint. 

Adam grins at me. "Alright, my Rosaline. Why don't you work on the sauce?" He slides a piece of paper closer to me, and I see it's a recipe. I reach for it, and our fingers brush. Butterflies erupt in my stomach, and I marvel at how he has this effect on me. Our fingers linger momentarily before Adam removes his hand and returns to chopping. 

I try to ignore the flutter in my heart that simultaneously feels panged. My brain was already fighting my body, and the night had just begun. 

"How are you liking the job?" Adam asks, interrupting my thoughts. 

"It's not awful," I tell him truthfully. 

He glances at me concerned, and I think for a moment that maybe I gave the wrong answer. But his expression returns to the small smile he was previously wearing. I thought of saying something else but decided to let it go since he did. 

"How have things been going for you lately? Is the company doing good? Your dad complacent?" I question. My tone is light-hearted, but I can't help but feel like an interrogator at the rapid stream of questions that I find leaving my mouth. 

Adam chuckles but doesn't comment on my behavior. He simply answers my questions as he adds the vegetables to the frying pan. "Everything is going well. There have been no hiccups with the new location, which is surprising - a miracle, really," he adds more to himself than me. "And my dad is as complacent as he can be." He steals a glance at me, "If I'm being honest, it seems a little too good to be true." 

"Well, you know what they typically say about that..." I trail off; My mind wanders to his dad. "Your dad is really fine with us now that I work for you?" I'm a little anxious as I ask the question, unsure I really want the answer. 

"He seems to be..." His tone sounds suspicious, and I give him a skeptical look. "I'm sure it's nothing, don't worry about it," he tries to assure me. 

I want to probe him for information, but something tells me it's not the right time. I don't want to cause an argument or make him unhappy. If he wants to talk to me about it, then he will when he's ready. 

I continue to help Adam make dinner, and when it's ready, we take our seats at the bar. It was some type of curry, and it smelled really good. Adam extends his hand to me in a gesture I now know is him offering to let me say grace, and I do. When I finish, I open my eyes and hesitate. There was something I wanted to ask him.