"Okay," I whispered, not meeting his eyes.
He released my hand and pushed his hands through his hair. "About last night...I'm sorry, Brooke. I...I shouldn't have taken advantage of you like that."
That got my attention. He thought he had taken advantage of me?
"We were both there, Adam. It's as much my fault as it is yours."
"Maybe, but you were vulnerable. You just broke up with that...guy." He seemed to be searching for the right word to describe Chet. "Honestly, I don't remember what happened after the fifth or sixth shot of tequila. I don’t think I used a condom and I'm sorry if I pushed you to do anything or...you know."
"I don't remember much either," I admitted. "But I do know that you didn't push me to do anything I didn't want to do. And I’m on the pill…and I’ve always used a condom before, so you’re all good there." Great, he probably thought he caught something from me. I dropped my gaze to his shoes but then looked back up. "What do you mean by 'you know'?"
Adam shifted uncomfortably on his feet and stuck his hands in the pockets of his cargo shorts. "I usually try to be sober during sex. I don't know how well I...uh...performed when I was drunk off my ass. I apologize if it wasn't a great experience for you."
Oh. He was worried that I didn't enjoy myself. How...different. I had to stifle a giggle that was threatening to escape. Adam looked slightly offended but then shook his head.
"Was it that bad?" he asked with a grimace.
"No! I mean, I don't remember everything. But I remember enough to know that you don't have anything to apologize for."
He looked like he didn't believe me. And he looked so darn cute and vulnerable that I couldn't let him think he was bad in bed. Because he wasn't. Even being so drunk he probably forgot his own name, he was still more attentive and thorough than any other guy I'd been with.
So at the risk of sounding like the biggest whore on the face of the Earth, I said, "Seriously, Adam. You were definitely the best drunken sex I've ever had." Might as well air all the dirty laundry. "Probably the best sex, period," I admitted reluctantly.
He raised an eyebrow, and the corner of his mouth quirked up. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. Now don't go getting all cocky on me. I was drunk too, remember? My perspective on the situation could be completely skewed."
We looked at each other for another awkward moment.
"This is a little awkward," Adam said finally.
With relief, I agreed, "yes, it is."
"I think we should start over. Hi, I'm Adam Branigan. I live over your grandma's garage. I'm the new principal at the elementary school, and I definitely have not slept with you." He held out his hand to me.
I smiled my first genuine smile of the evening and shook his hand. "It's nice to meet you, Adam. I'm Brooke Mills. I work at the hair salon, and I definitely did not leave my panties under your pillow."
Adam chuckled and released my hand. He motioned for me to walk ahead of him and put his hand on the small of my back to guide me out of the hallway. Poppy was watching me with uncontained interest as we approached where she sat at the bar.
"Well, Poppy, it was nice to meet you," Adam said. He waved to Ford at the other end of the bar. "I have to be getting home. I hope to see you ladies again soon."
"Did you walk here, Adam?" Poppy asked.
"Yeah, it's not far and the weather won't be this nice for much longer. I’ve got to enjoy it while I can."
"Brooke, you should give Adam a ride home," she suggested. "Since you two live so close."
I gave Poppy a what the hell look, but she just smiled back at me sweetly. "But don't you want me to hang out here until Ford is off work?"
"Nope."
So much for her idea for me to give up men. She was practically delivering me to Adam's door with a big bow on my head.
"Okaaay," I said.
Adam followed me to my car and slid into the passenger seat. My little two seater didn't fit his tall frame very well, but he didn't complain like Chet would have. Thankfully it was a short drive, because some of the awkwardness had returned.
Gram's convertible was already in the garage when I pulled in, and she stuck her head out the back door when we got out.
"I just pulled a fresh batch of cookies out of the oven. Come and get some," she called.
Gram was a good cook and baker, but she didn't do it much anymore unless there was a reason. Like the church bake sale. Which was over. So, why was she baking cookies on a Saturday night?
Adam hesitated, but I waved him on. "You better come too. I can't eat a whole batch of cookies by myself. Well, I could. But I shouldn't." I ran my hands over my hips. Adam's eyes followed the movement, and when he raised them to mine I saw they were heated. Uh oh. I should have just let him go on up to his apartment.