Free Love On My Mind by Tracey Livesay Page A

Mike’s concern, but he was certain interests other than their friendship had brought the other man to his home.
    “So, was someone here?” Mike asked.
    “It appears I’ve got a new neighbor,” he said.
    “How would you know?” Jonathan interrupted. “You’re not the ‘homemade goodies basket, welcome to the neighborhood’ type.”
    Adam recoiled. Just the thought sent cold shivers slithering down his spine.
    “I met her during the storm.”
    “Her?” Mike’s blond brows shot up into his hairline.
    “Yes, her. As in, a member of the female sex.”
    Mike turned his head slightly. “Are you making a funny?”
    “It’s been known to happen on rare occasions,” Adam said, deadpan.
    “She must be attractive if you thought her worthy of mentioning,” Jonathan said.
    Was she . . . ? “She’s agreeable.”
    Mike shook his head. “If it were anyone else, I’d assume ‘agreeable’ was a nice way to say ‘unattractive,’ but with you, it could mean anyone from a plain Jane to Angelina Jolie.”
    The sound of heavy steel hitting concrete grabbed Adam’s attention. Jonathan littered his counter with an assortment of tomatoes, a loaf of crusty bread, cream, onions, and several herbs. And the cause of the initial noise?
    “Is that a panini maker?”
    “Yup,” Jonathan said, shifting the groceries around.
    “What are you making?”
    “What does it look like?”
    Adam leaned against the bar and assessed the ingredients. “Grilled cheese and tomato soup?”
    Jonathan nodded. “Your favorite meal.”
    “In college. Although you didn’t need all of this”—he indicated the mess with a nod of his head—“back then.”
    “I told you he wouldn’t like it,” Mike said.
    Jonathan paused, a sharp knife in his hand. “I was twenty-two and working twelve-hour shifts as a line cook in a college town. This is the version we have on our brunch menu. I guarantee you’ll love it.” He grabbed a tomato and swiftly chopped off the end.
    “There was nothing wrong with the way you used to do it,” Adam said.
    “No. But I’ve changed in the past ten years. I own and operate a three Michelin-starred restaurant. I can’t open a can of soup and slap some cheese between two slices of bread.”
    Adam frowned. Change. Everyone appeared to be happy with the concept, but it was hard to view it beneficially when you were the one people always wanted to change.
    “Have you given a thought to what’s next?” Mike asked.
    “You invaded my space. I’m clueless about your plans.”
    Mike shook his head. “Not now. I meant, after the presentation.” When Adam opened his mouth to respond, Mike interrupted. “Theoretically, not practically. The future. Your next step.”
    Oh. That clarification altered his reply. “I have several ideas about our next project. Once the launch has passed, I’ll come into the office.”
    “You’re moving back to the city?”
    Adam’s scalp prickled and the muscles in his shoulders tensed. When he’d mentioned going into the office, he’d meant for meetings with Mike and their senior level staff. Two days, a week at the most. This mountain had become his sanctuary from censure and judgment.
    He’d never considered moving back to Palo Alto.
    He rolled his shoulders, attempting to loosen up. “No.”
    Mike pinched the bridge of his nose. “Dude, it was okay when you retreated up here to put your considerable focus into the device. But once it drops, we’re going to need you back at the office.”
    “We’ve made this arrangement work for the past eighteen months. Why couldn’t that continue?”
    Mike and Jonathan exchanged a long look.
    “What?” Adam asked, through clenched teeth. “Even I can tell you have something you want to say to me. What is it you say, Jonathan? ‘Speak your piece’?”
    Jonathan set his knife down. “Even after everything that happened, you can’t hide away from—”
    “I’m not hiding,” he said, instinctively reacting to that