Bragging Rights

I stepped out of Adam’s shower, and wrapped a towel around me. Then I bent and scooped up my clothes off the floor. When I opened the door, Adam was leaning against the opposite wall of the hallway.

His eyes roamed my half-covered body. “Damn. And tell me again why we couldn’t get in together?”

I smiled. “Because we would never get out.”

“And that’s a problem because…?” He asked. I walked past him, and he went into the bathroom. “Fiiiiine.” He huffed. I leaned on the door frame, watching him. He raised his eyebrows, then pulled his shirt over his head.

With a sultry smirk, he tauntingly unbuttoned his jeans, and stepped out of them. Now he was just in his boxers.

“Yeahhh….” I said. “Don’t become a stripper. You’re not good at it.” I laughed.

He scowled and threw his jeans at me. “Shut up!”

I caught them and tossed them back, then reached in and pulled the door shut.

I got dressed in Adam’s room, wearing a pair of his sweat pants and a grey t-shirt. I went back into the living room, sat on the couch, and flipped through the TV channels. Finally, I settled on Live Free or Die Hard on FX.

A few minutes later, I heard a, “Fuck.” I turned to see Adam, a few feet behind the couch, staring at his phone. He had dressed in ripped jeans and a torn white t-shirt.

“What?” I asked. I stood and made my way to him. He held out his phone for me to see. A picture of he and I eating at McDonald’s was on the page of the Perez website. The headline read: “Is The Voice Judge Finally Stepping Into the Dating Scene Again?”

“Dammit.” Adam muttered. He went and sat on the couch, dropping his head in his hands. I went to sit by him.

“What’s wrong?”

“That.” He said, pointing, without looking, at the phone in my hands. “Fuck them. Why can’t they just leave me – us – alone? I hate that I can’t go anywhere or do anything without it becoming some big deal. It totally makes it sucky for the people around me too. I hate that you’ll be faced with this now.”

“I thought you said you weren’t worried about getting caught.”

“I’m not. But why do they give a shit about my love life? God, I hate it.” he exclaimed in aggravation. “It was a date. A fucking date. We’re not even official yet. No offense.” He looked over at me.

“Of course.” I said. I hadn’t even thought of that. I really, honestly, didn’t think that “this,” Adam and I, would go anywhere. He was probably just in it for the sex. Just a casual night with a girl. I had prepared myself for that.

He sat still for a moment, before exclaiming, “Fuck!”

I sat quietly, listening to him vent. “It’s okay. I don’t care.” I leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

Adam turned to gaze at me. “I wish I didn’t as much. I’m sorry. I totally just bombed our morning.”

“It’s alright. But I should go.” I slowly stood.

“Go?” Adam bolted up. He looked freaked out.

“‘Go,’ as in, to work.” I explained.

“Oh. On a Sunday?” He looked relieved.

I shrugged. “I’d love to not have to work at all, but hey. I need the cash.”

“Should I call a cab for you? I’d offer to drive you, but I have to be at the studio soon.” He glanced at his phone. “Yikes…like, really soon.”

I gave him a kiss on the cheek and thanked him. Adam called a cab for me, and before I knew it, I was being dropped off at the café I worked at.

It was called, “The Nook.” A quiet little place that had regular patrons. People would come in and bring their laptops, books, homework, iPods. Our main crowd was college kids, since we were just a few blocks from UCLA.

I opened the back door, stepped in, and nearly bumped into Phillip, a chef. He was attractive; dark and short curly hair with sleek black glasses. He was almost always smiling. He was gay, which made him one of my best buds at work, because he was so fun and not into the whole girls-are-hot deal. We didn’t hang out or anything, but we were always there for each other. He was also really good at teasing me.

“Mmm, and look what we have here. Miss Peyton Anderson. Dressed in men’s clothing…girl, what’ve you been up to?” He chuckled.

I smiled at him. “Nothing, Phil.”

“Oy, Maurice, Allison, our little Peyton has a lover!”

I had to smile again. Phillip was just so intuitive. “Shut it.” I muttered, a little embarrassed that he would know already. The thing between Adam and I – whatever it is, or was – was nothing. It would grow into nothing. I had no expectations for it.

Maurice and Allison, a waiter and chef respectively, both gave me teasing catcalls. I laughed, and began my shift. “Lucky bastard.” Maurice said through a smile.

All day, my thoughts roamed to Adam Levine. I wondered how he was doing at the studio…what it was exactly that he was doing at the studio, and if he was thinking of me. Was he? Probably not. He was probably just thinking of the next girl he would take on a date.

My shift dragged on. I was relieved when none of my co-workers asked about the article on Perez. They probably hadn't seen it yet. I hoped and prayed that they wouldn't make a big deal out of it.

Finally, I clocked out at five and called a cab home. I took a shower, threw on my own sweats and an extra-large “PJ” t-shirt, and hopped on the couch to watch some TV.

Finding Nemo was on. I love that movie. I mean, I know I’m twenty six, an adult, and I should be too old for it, but…who can resist the adorable fish in that film?! Not me. My favorite character is, without a doubt, Dory. And the fact that Ellen Degeneres voices her makes it all the better. That movie was actually why I went out to buy a fish in the first place. I wanted a clown fish, you know, like Nemo and Marlin, but they were out. So I settled to the next best thing (the pet store owner’s words, not mine): a beta.

Those fish are not even close to being second-best.

I pulled out my cell phone and dialed Reagan’s number. As it was ringing, I gave half a thought to the fact that I didn’t even know what time it was in Italy right now. I didn’t really care. There was too much to talk about.

“Hullo?” It was Eddie’s voice.

“Hey, Ed, is Rea there?”

There was a mumble, then muffled noises, and then Reagan’s voice. “Sh’ello?”

“Rea, thank god you’re there! I have SO MUCH to tell you!” I practically squealed.

“Oh yeah?” then giggles from her end. “Eddie, shut up. Stop. Don’t do that…not…now!” More giggles. I rolled my eyes.

“Reagan?”

“Um, Ihavetocallyoubackbye!” She said speedily. The phone clicked.

I sunk into the couch.

Squirt was asking Merlin and Dory if they had an exit buddy. I never fail to laugh at that part. Just then, my phone vibrated. A text.

The name was: Adam Levine.

What?!

I opened it. It said: Hey there :)

I quickly responded: Hey :)

Adam: What’s up?

Me: Watching Finding Nemo. You?

Adam: Haha, awesome. Not much. Thinking.

Me: Yeah?

Adam: Yep. About you.

My fingers froze over the phone. He was thinking about me? Really?

Me: :)

I had no idea what else to say. What should you say when a celebrity tells you they’ve been thinking about you? I didn’t know what to feel.

Suddenly, my phone began ringing. The caller ID told me it was Adam Levine.
“Hello?” I answered, taken aback.

“Hey Peyton.” It was him. Adam. His smooth voice. I felt myself smile. “How was your day?”

“Hi Adam. Umm…it was long. But okay, I guess. Yours?” I responded. This was surreal.

He gave a small chuckle. “Mine was about the same. Not a very productive day at the studio, but shit happens.” Before I could say anything, he continued, “Will you go out on another date with me?”

I sat in shocked, yet pleased, silence.

“Um…Peyton?”

“Wha-? Oh, um…yes!” I said, perhaps a little too enthusiastically.

“Awesome. Tomorrow night sound okay? I’m making dinner.”

My jaw nearly dropped. Not only was Adam Levine interested in another date with me, but…he could cook?!

I nodded my head, although he couldn’t see me. “That sounds great.”

“Great. I’ll pick you up at five.” He said.

I said thank you, and we said our goodnights and goodbyes.

I went to bed that night a very happy girl.