Maya's laughter carried faintly from downstairs as I slipped back inside, Daniel's words still echoing in my head. His confession clung to me like his jacket, warm and steady, but heavy with meaning I wasn't ready to face.
I bent to pick up the shawl Maya had asked for, relieved to focus on something simple. But then—
"Lost?"
The voice came from behind me, smooth, velvet-dark. I turned sharply, nearly colliding with Adrian in the doorway.
"God—you scared me," I whispered.
He leaned against the frame, hands in his pockets, gaze pinned on me like I was the only thing in the world worth watching. "Didn't mean to." The corner of his mouth curved, not quite a smile. "Maya asked me to check if you needed help."
"I don't," I said too quickly, clutching the shawl to my chest.
He pushed off the frame, stepping into the room. The door clicked shut behind him, muffling the hum of voices downstairs. My heartbeat thundered.
"You seem… distracted," Adrian murmured. He moved closer, his presence swallowing the space. "Something happen out there?"
I shook my head, though my lips parted, betraying me. "No. Nothing."
"Liar," he said softly, his eyes narrowing just a fraction. And then—his hand brushed mine as he reached for the shawl. The touch was electric, a spark that shot straight through me.
I tried to pull back, but he caught my wrist lightly, his thumb grazing the inside where my pulse raced. "You're shaking," he said, almost to himself.
"I'm fine," I breathed, though every nerve in my body screamed otherwise.
He stepped closer, close enough that the air between us thickened, his warmth pressing against me without a single touch. His free hand rose, fingers skimming from my elbow up to my shoulder, deliberate, slow. My breath hitched as goosebumps erupted under his touch.
"Adrian…" My voice trembled.
He tilted his head, eyes dark with something unreadable. "Tell me to stop."
But I couldn't. My silence betrayed me.
He moved behind me in one fluid step, his palm sliding across my waist, his breath hot against my ear. "Do you know what drove me insane back then?" he whispered, his voice low enough to shatter me. "Watching you laugh with everyone else, while I could only look."
His hand pressed gently against my hip, holding me in place as his thumb stroked over the fabric of my dress. Every inch of me burned.
"You have no idea what it does to me," he continued, his lips brushing just close enough to my ear to make me shiver.
I tried to turn, but he caught me again, his hand slipping up, fingers threading through a strand of my hair, tugging it lightly as his other hand remained firm at my waist. "Stay," he commanded softly.
And I did. Because I couldn't move, couldn't think.
When he finally spun me back to face him, my back pressed against the dresser, his eyes locked on mine with searing intensity. His hand cupped the back of my neck, thumb brushing my jaw. He didn't kiss me—no, he left me trembling on the edge, his lips hovering just a breath away.
"Say you don't want this," Adrian murmured, his voice molten steel. "And I'll walk away."
But I didn't. I couldn't.
And the worst part was—he knew it.