Read Online Adam’s Boys by Anna Clifton - Free Book Online Page A

last minute sleepover were fitting together.
    â€œYes, I know it’s confusing, but do you mind if I don’t try and explain now? It’s a long story and I really need to go.”
    â€œAll right. That’s fine. Don’t forget your umbrella …” Maeve called out from behind.
    But Abbie barely heard her. Nor would she have cared about an umbrella if she had. She was already sprinting up the street to cover the short distance between her home and the one Pete had volunteered was his and Adam’s when they’d driven home from the beach earlier that evening.
    She needn’t have hurried.
    Her instincts told her Adam would be at some pub drowning his sorrows or walking his miseries off on the streets of Sydney, and they’d been right. His three-storey terrace was in complete darkness when she arrived.
    Still, Abbie went through the motions of ringing the front door bell, listening in frustration to its lonely echo in the dark and empty rooms within. After a minute or two of her exercise in futility, she sank down onto the front steps, vowing to sit there all night if necessary. Yet she had absolutely no idea what she was going to say to Adam when he finally returned home, if he returned home at all that night.
    Well, it didn’t matter.
    The first thing she’d do was make sure he was okay. The second thing she’d do was somehow get through to him about how desperately sorry she was for the terrible thing she’d done and her determination to now make things as right as she possibly could.
    Abbie remained on the step and barely moved a muscle; not even when the day’s temperature finally plummeted two hours later; not even when the heavens opened and rain fell in sheets until she was completely drenched. The only thing that stirred her was the occasional sound of approaching footsteps.
    Her hopes lifted each time as she waited for Adam to come into view. But time and time again, they were dashed as strangers passed by, staring in obvious surprise from underneath their umbrellas at the odd sight of the wet and bedraggled girl sitting on the third step of the elegant Paddington home.
    As midnight finally ticked by, Abbie sunk her head in defeat onto her folded arms and closed her eyes—exhausted, half-frozen and utterly miserable.
    How long she sat there like that, or even whether she dozed off for a little while, she never knew. But finally she sensed that someone was standing next to her.
    Lifting her head slowly, she found Adam towering above her. He was dressed in jeans and a blue v-necked T-shirt. One foot was resting on the step she sat on. He was also dry, unlike her. But the most disturbing thing about him was the way he was watching her, silently and without a flicker of emotion, his face no more than an eerie mask.
    â€œCome inside. I’ll get you something dry to put on,” he muttered before walking up the stairs and unlocking his front door.
    Stiff and frozen in every one of her joints, Abbie climbed awkwardly to her feet. In the next moment she’d stumbled into his front hallway as he flicked a switch, filling his home with low, soft lighting. Uncertain what to do next, she waited where she was and watched him disappear, only to return a minute or two later with a bundle of clothing in his arms.
    â€œPut these on,” he ordered as he passed them to her, avoiding her eyes. “They’ll be too big for you but they’re all I have.”
    He disappeared again and she made her way up the stairs to the bathroom to do as he asked in mortified obedience.
    Adam was right about the clothing. His tracksuit was enormous on her. She had to pull on most of the drawstring to stop the pants from plunging to her feet every time she moved. As for the top, it hung around her legs to about mid-thigh. But it was dry and warm; Abbie was beginning to feel her fingers and toes again as she wandered back down the stairs and through the house in search of