Chapter 1: Oh, shit

ADAM

"You've got to be fucking kidding me."

My head was about to explode. The sound of a ringing phone was so loud that I had to cover my ears with a pillow. I hate noisy mornings, especially after a well-spent weekend with hardly known people and an immoral amount of alcohol at the local bar, three nights in a row. On Friday partying myself to sleep seemed like a great idea, on Saturday — even better, especially when I didn't have to go home alone — God, I love blondies, — but Sunday had to be my day off. Well, it wasn't. 

Overall, my head hurts, my mouth is dry and that fucking ringing wouldn't stop, so I had to find my phone in a vortex of sheets and my clothes and pick it up. 

"Are you there? Nik said she just landed." Apparently, it was a bad idea, because Col's voice was even louder than the ringing. Even though his words didn't make any sense to me at that moment, I had to join the conversation because of his tone. Why did God send me such a noisy best friend? 

"There— What are you— Who's Nik?" I managed to put at least one sentence together. 

"Nicole?" elaborated — or that's what he thought he was doing — Col. I rubbed my face with my hands, not remembering any Nicole that I would have to potentially care about. So I remained silent. "My sister, dumbass!" he yelled right in my damn ear. "You promised to pick her up from the airport! In thirty minutes!"

Oh, shit. 

That Nicole. 

"Don't you dare say that you forgot!"

"I did not!" I yell back at him just because I don't like being yelled at. I hopped up on a bed, checking the time on my phone. Fuck, it's almost noon. And I did forget. 

Col's little sister — Nicole, whom I should've actually cared about today — who lives on the West Coast decided to spend her post-graduation break with her beloved brother, here, on the East Coast. That's all I knew about her so far, along with the fact that Col didn't see her for the past four years, so, I guess, this reason was enough. Well, I also knew that I had to meet her in the airport on Monday 25th because Col couldn't and because he begged me to and I agreed because what kind of a friend would I be then? 

A bad one, I guess, considering the fact that I have to put on my clothes right now in quite a chaotic way to keep my promise. I swear I remembered about that Nicole the whole week but then the weekend came. And a celebration, and a lot of shots and that blondie and her lips around my— anyways, the time passed and so am I going to if I don't manage to get to the airport in twenty-eight minutes.

"I'm almost there." Trying to put my sneakers on, I grabbed the keys and jogged to the front door.

"You didn't go there on a bike, did you?"

I froze at his words and rushed back to the coffee table. Switched the bike keys to the car keys and replied, "Why would I?"

"Right, fine" I heard Colson exhaling loudly. "You remember everything I told you NOT to do to her?"

"No compliments, no flirting, no touching," I repeated the warning he kept claiming to me every day of the past week. "Though, you didn't mention anything about fucking on the back seat of my car."

"Did I mention anything about cutting your dick off and feeding it to you?" 

I laughed and unlocked my car. Took a glance at my face in the side window and sighed with despair — my dark hair was sticking out in all sorts of directions and my skin was so pale like I was dying in the upcoming hour. I put my sunglasses on even though it was gloomy outside, hoping they would cover up my poor life decisions. 

"Um-m, maybe?"

"Good. So don't even try to use any of your tricks on her."

"What tricks?" I sneered, starting the engine and leading the car out of the parking spot. I knew exactly what tricks he was talking about. 

"Seriously, McClane, I will kill you. She's my sister and I want you to be as far away from her as possible."

"After I pick her up and we spend half an hour in a car together?" I clarified. 

"After you pick her up and you spend half an hour in a—ah, fuck." The despair in his voice made me laugh again. 

"Relax, big guy. She's your sister, so she's probably not even my type."

"You don't have a type. That's the problem."

True, though not with the "problem" part. Not having a type is actually quite practical — especially when your physical needs are quite greedy. 

"Whatever. Did you at least tell her how I look? I don't want to chase her through the whole airport."

"I sent her your photo," Col replied. I still couldn't understand why I was prohibited from seeing her picture beforehand. Like her personality was the biggest treasure Col had to keep to himself till the end of days. 

"Am I at least shirtless in that pic?"

"You wish," Col snorted. "Call me when you pick her up!" 

"Yes, sir." 

I hung up the phone and checked the time I had left. There were almost twenty minutes left for a normally forty-minute drive. Could've been worse.

I turned on the local radio, thinking about how big of a mess this morning was. I do hate Mondays, especially when I have to spend them doing stuff I don't want to do. For example, things like avoiding getting a speed ticket because of a girl I've never seen in my life.

Well, Nicole, you better be not my type. Even though I don't have one.