Adam
Baddie showed up at my door,a sunshine smile on her face and a case of booze in her arms. With a tsk of disapproval, I relieved her of the heavy box and led her inside.
“Wow, every surface is sparkling.” She ran her graceful fingers along the marble counter in my kitchen. “Nice.”
I put the box down, the glass bottles inside clinking. “I still don’t get why I had to have my place cleanedbeforea party. They’re just gonna have to come back tomorrow to clean again.”
She scrunched her nose. “You really want your guests to be hanging out in your filth?”
My hands went to my hips. “Okay, for one, my guests are all scuzzy rocker motherfuckers. They live and breathe filth. For another, my place was hardly filthy. I spend most of my time in your apartment anyway.”
Her head was in the fridge. She popped out with a carrot stick in her teeth. “Exactly. Spreading your dirt all over my apartment. Why do you think I have it cleaned once a week now? I used to be able to go two.”
I snorted. “I hope you told your cleaning lady she’s not gonna have to come so often over the next two months.”
Baddie’s sunshine dimmed a little. I guess mine did too.
“I actually did,” she replied.
The Seasons Change was heading on the road again. We were leaving in two days for the European leg of our tour. Two solid months on another continent, an ocean away from home.
From Adelaide.
She leaned a shoulder against my fridge, cocking her hip out while she crunched on her carrot. It came as no surprise she’d dressed up for this. She sparkled in a floaty, pale-pink dress with shimmery bits in the fabric. The skirt stopped midthigh, and her legs were made even longer with her stacked silver heels.
“You look hot tonight, Adelaide.”
The scuzzy motherfuckers who’d be here tonight would enjoy the view, that was for damn sure.
“Why, thank you.” She did a twirl, her skirt flying up, revealing even more toned thigh. “This is an Alaia. Vintage, of course.”
She was always telling me what designer she was wearing. I had no idea what she was talking about, but I dug that clothes were important to her.
“Oh yeah, Alaia. My favorite.”
She snickered. “Oh, be quiet and help me set stuff up. People will be here soon and it hardly looks like a party is going to be happening.”
I took her hand in mine and gave her a spin like a little ballerina. “If you’re here, it’s a party, Baddie.”
Of course my girl didn’t listen to me. She arranged glasses and bottles. Brought sparkly things from her place to make it more festive—her words. She flitted around my apartment, and I just followed her orders. I’d thrown a lot of parties here, but they’d never been like this. Usually, it was booze, pizza, and someone always brought good smokes. Baddie took my party to another level—no surprise. She was fancy like that.
Goddamn, I was going to miss her. My gut ached from it. Somewhere over the last year, she’d become the most important person in my life. I’d never admit that to Iris or Roddy, but it was a fact. And here I was leaving her for two months, an ocean dividing us.
“Hey.”
She stopped rearranging bottles of liquor and turned to me. “Hey back.”
I crossed the room to her and tucked a curl behind her ear. “I need you to promise me you’re going to be better at texting me back this time.”
She chewed on her bottom lip for a drawn-out moment before replying. “You just want me to send naked pictures.”
That wasn’t the reply I’d been looking for.
There was no world in which I’d turn down naked pictures, but I knew I wouldn’t get them. Since that night last month where she let me see more of her than she ever had, let me spill all over her perfect, flawless skin, she’d pulled back to where we’d been before. That place was hot, no doubt, but I’d have loved to come on her perky little tits again.
More than that, though, I wanted to get back to the place we’d been in before that. I hadn’t missed that Adelaide had been pulling back from me. We still played our game, but not as often. She had less time for me. Her smiles were a little slower. And the cherry on top of the suck-ass sundae was she was still keeping fucking secrets.
But I was leaving, and there was no way I’d be creating strife now. This wasn’t the time. When I got back, I’d have a solid period I’d be home and could figure out why Adelaide didn’t trust me enough to tell me everything.