Until Fountain Bridge: (InterMix) by Samantha Young Read Free Book Online Page A

Christian was obviously a good person. He just also happened to be incredibly self-involved. It occurred to me he’d been the same way at the student union last week, but I’d twisted it in my overly romantic little head and called it open and honest.
    I looked at my food glumly.
    A hand came down on the back of my chair and a shadow appeared above me. I glanced up to find Adam leaning over me with a scowl on his face.
    “Where the fuck did he go?” he growled.
    God, I loved him.
    “His sister just went into labor.”
    Adam relaxed, but didn’t move.
    “I’m okay,” I promised him. I wasn’t okay. I wanted to cry. And he knew it.
    He straightened up and called out to one of the waiters by name. “Can you move us to a larger table?”
    “Of course, Mr. Sutherland.”
    “Adam, no,” I protested. “I’m not crashing your date.”
    He grabbed my hand and pulled me up. “You got all dressed up, sweetheart. At the very least, you’re going to get to finish your meal.”
    Holding my hand, Adam led me to the new table and gave a jerk of his head to his date to tell her to come over to us. He sat next me as Meagan took the seat across from him, her green eyes flashing with annoyance.
    “Ellie’s joining us,” Adam informed her, his tone brooking no argument
    “Sorry,” I mumbled apologetically to her.
    “Don’t apologize,” Adam replied firmly. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for.”
    The waiters quickly brought over our plates, and as we dug in Adam asked me about Christian.
    “Well.” I sighed after swallowing a piece of tender meat. “Up until forty minutes ago, I thought he was perfect. Forty minutes ago, I didn’t know he’d try to order my food for me or talk incessantly about himself.”
    Adam grinned. “Was it about his hair? I bet he could get a good forty minutes out of how long it took him to get that quiff just right. What styling mousse he uses and why, the amount he uses in order to get just the right amount of height and curvature . . .”
    I was giggling as he continued to tease me. It was true. Christian had a rather large quiff. Forty minutes ago, I’d thought it spoke of his individuality and style. Now, I was guessing Adam was right. The man probably spent more time on his hair than I did—and that was never a good thing.
    Throughout the meal, Adam made me laugh until I forgot all about my ruined evening. It wasn’t until the waiter came to take our plates away and offer us the dessert menu that I remembered Meagan was even there. She reminded us by scraping her chair back and glaring at Adam. “I just remembered I have an early morning tomorrow. Thanks for dinner, Adam. I’ll see you around.”
    Before Adam could say anything, she’d turned on her designer heels and stormed out of the restaurant.
    I instantly felt terrible. Adam and I hadn’t included her in our conversation at all. It was such a shitty thing to do.
    Adam must have recognized my guilty expression because he shook his head at me. “Don’t feel bad, sweetheart. She started complaining the moment I picked her up. If I was rude, it was only in retaliation.”
    I gave him a sympathetic smile. “Looks like we saved each other from crappy dates.”
    He grinned. “Looks like.” His eyes dropped to the menu. “Now, what are you having for dessert?”
    “We don’t need to,” I told him quietly. “We could just pay up and I’ll go home and let you get on with your night.”
    His eyes rose to meet mine and he gave me an “are you daft?” look. “Els, shut up and pick a dessert.”
    I tried to hide my smile and lowered my eyes to the menu.
    ***
    We stepped out into the warm summer night, and Adam took my arm and tucked it in his. “Where to next?”
    I blinked in surprise. We’d finished our meal and I’d just assumed I’d be going home. “Um, where do you fancy?”
    “The Voodoo Rooms is only a five-minute walk away. I know the bartenders, so we’ll get a table.”
    I nodded, trying to stop my