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A.D.I.D.A.S. All Day I Dream About S*x
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I’ve loved her since we were ten years old, when she almost died in my arms.
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Teenage giggling starts the second I walk into the bookstore. This shop has always seemed too small to contain my six-foot-four build. The ceiling is too low, and the bookshelves are too close together, stuffed with a mix of used and new paperbacks, each of which I’m pretty sure Jo has read at least once.
She’s sitting behind the counter now, and as usual, her nose is stuck in a book, her glasses riding low on the bridge of her cute, upturned nose, completely unaware that I’ve come into the store. The two girls, whose giggling has turned to whispering, continue to eye me in a way that I’ve gotten used to over the years.
Sure, I know I’m good looking. But I’m not a douche about it. I give them a crooked smile, which results in audible sighs, before turning my attention to the woman I came here to see.
“Hey, geek,” I tease, leaning a forearm on the counter, and using one finger to push her glasses up her nose.
She startles slightly, her cheeks filling with color as she quickly closes the book she was reading. “Oh, hey. You’re early.”
I give a small shrug. “The weather is crap, so I had to cancel my last jump.” I’ve been teaching skydiving for the past few years, and just recently me and my buddies started our own adventure junkie business called Adrenaline Rush. “Thought I’d swing by on my way home and pick you up. We’ve got big plans tonight, remember?”
“Plans?” She frowns, shoving the novel under the counter, but not before I catch a glimpse of the man bun dude on the cover with ripped abs and unnaturally large pectoral muscles.
Interesting. Since when did she start reading smut? The thought does something to me. Something it shouldn’t. Because Joanne Hamilton is off limits. Not only has she been one of my best friends since we were kids, but she’s also…Jo.
Sweet, innocent, reserved, delicate, Jo.
She’s not as fragile as she was when we were kids. Back then she’d been sick, before the surgery had corrected the holes in her heart. But there’s still a piece of me that wants to protect her, to make sure she’s safe. Plus, I just like spending time with her. She’s smart, and funny, and…mine.
I push the last thought away, knowing I have no right to make the claim. We’re friends, nothing else, no matter how much my fucking cock has taken notice of those sweet curves she always hides under baggy sweatshirts.
She’s blinking up at me now, a question in those dark green eyes. “What plans?”
“It’s Friday night.” I grin at her. “Which means karaoke party at The Old Barn.”
“Oh, hell no.” Jo groans, shaking her head and causing a strand of dark hair to fall from the messy bun on top of her head.
I chuckle, resisting the urge to tuck it behind her ear. “It’s not a request. You still owe me for helping you move into your apartment. Karaoke is your penance.”
“Public humiliation seems a little much for moving a few boxes.”
I laugh. “Hey, didn’t you tell me you wanted to step out of your comfort zone?”
“I meant like buying a new outfit or something. Not standing in front of a dozen people and proving I’m tone deaf.”
Before I can argue with her, the two teenagers come up to the counter, still giggling when they sneak unsubtle glances at me.
Jo rings up the magazine they place on the counter, and when they turn to leave, I hear one of them whisper-yell, “Oh my God, he’s such an Adidas.”
“Looks like you’ve got some admirers,” Jo says.
“What the hell is an Adidas?” I ask, shaking my head.
Her cheeks turn crimson again and she looks away. “Not sure.”
She huffs out a small breath, then mumbles something incoherent, but I hear the last word clearly – sex.
“What?” I lean toward her, loving the way she twitches uncomfortably. God, she’s so innocent. Which is crazy, considering there isn’t a woman in this town half as gorgeous as she is. But then again, I’ve made it abundantly clear to any male in a twenty-mile radius that she’s off limits.
Jo sighs, and says, “All day I dream about sex.”
My brows shoot up and I smirk down at her. “Really? I didn’t realize you were so naughty.”
She slaps my arm. “That’s what it means. It’s an acronym. A.D.I.D.A.S.” She slips off her stool, and walks around the counter, not making eye contact with me as she unplugs the Open sign and locks the front door.
I watch her, all too aware of how hard my cock has gotten just from her mention of the S-word. Shit, Luca, my head warns, as I adjust myself, you need to push the thoughts away. But here I am reacting to her like a fourteen-year-old virgin with his first hard-on.