Four Day Fling

He cupped the back of my neck and kissed me again. “Love you, Red.”

“Love you, hockey boy.”

And I did.

Who would have thought a four day fling could last forever?

I hadn’t, but here I was.

With forever.

I turned to Adam and smiled.

His eyes sparkled. “Marry me.”

I froze, blinking at him. “What?”

“Marry me.” He walked toward me and cupped my face. “I mean it.”

My lips parted.

Oh my God.

“I just saw you so happy. I want to see you here, in this room, happy all the time.” There was no doubt in his eyes—just love. “I mean it, Poppy. I want you to marry me.”

“Okay,” I whispered.

“Okay?”

I nodded.

He kissed me hard. I grinned against his lips.

“I thought you’d put up a fight,” he said.

“Nah. It’s like you once said to me: you’re rich, you’re famous, and you’re good in bed. You’re a catch.”

“Poppy, one time encountering you on a morning without coffee is one time too many.”

The stools. The storage. The paints. The brushes. The pencils. The pens.

And the poppy I’d painted on the wall.

“What is this?” I whispered.

“This is your studio,” Adam said, stepping up behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist

The stools. The storage. The paints. The brushes. The pencils. The pens.

And the poppy I’d painted on the wall.

“What is this?” I whispered.

“This is your studio

Is it food?”

“Why would it be food?”

I shrugged. “It’s lunchtime. I’m hungry. Food is plausible.”

“Poppy.”

“Yes?”

“Shut. Up.”

Shut up,” I said.

“Okay, stop.”

I walked right into him.

“I said stop, Poppy.”

“I stopped, Adam. Technically.”

He sighed. “You’re making this very hard work.”

Shut up,” I said.

“Okay, stop.”

I walked right into him.

“I said stop, Poppy.”

“I stopped, Adam. Technically.”

He sighed. “You’re making this very hard work

I thought I was taking the moral high road. Adam used it to blackmail me into living with him

“I don’t like this,” I grumbled as Adam tugged me along the hall with a blindfold over my eyes. “I can’t see where I’m going.”

“That is kind of the point, Red.”