A New Normal.Not?
Celeste had just settled onto the living room couch with a book and a long sigh of relief when she heard it.
A loud crash.
Then silence.
Then—
"CELESTE!"
She dropped the book like it was on fire. Her heart jumped into her throat.
She sprinted toward the bathroom. "ADRIAN?!"
No response.
Panicking, she threw the door open—
And there he was.
Standing shirtless. Wet. Smug. And very, very not injured.
A towel hung dangerously low on his hips. Water dripped from his hair like he was in a shampoo commercial instead of an alleged accident scene.
Celeste skidded to a stop, blinking wildly. "Are you okay?! What happened?! Did you slip?! Did you hit your head?!"
Adrian tilted his head with exaggerated innocence. "Oh... no. I thought I heard something. Did you make that sound?"
Celeste's eye twitched. "You screamed my name."
"I missed you."
Her jaw dropped. "YOU FAKED A FALL?!"
Adrian placed a hand over his heart. "I would never."
"You're lucky I didn't call 911!"
"That would've been dramatic." He took a slow step forward. "But I appreciate the concern. My sweet, sweet wife."
She glared. "Ex-wife."
"Almost."
Another step.
Celeste backed up.
Big mistake.
Because her foot slipped on a rogue droplet of bathwater and—
"WAH—"
She screamed, flailing—and Adrian caught her mid-fall, his good arm wrapping tightly around her waist, pulling her into him.
And now...
They were both wet.
And close.
And breathing the same air.
Celeste stared up at him, wide-eyed. "You—are—the worst."
Adrian smirked. "You smell like strawberries."
"That's my shampoo, you moron!"
He chuckled. "We should get one bathroom together. Think of the time we'd save."
"Think of the murder I'd commit."
She tried to wiggle free, but his grip tightened.
"You fell for me," he said, completely straight-faced.
Celeste groaned. "That joke is older than my patience."
"But accurate."
She was about to argue when his eyes flicked to her lips.
Dangerously.
And her brain, traitorous as always, blushed.
"What are you looking at?" she asked, breathlessly.
"You," he murmured.
"Stop it."
"Make me."
Before she could think twice, Adrian leaned in. His lips barely brushed hers, and Celeste's breath caught in her chest.
She froze, feeling his heartbeat against hers.
Their lips were inches apart, so close, yet—
A soft sound broke through the moment.
Adrian winced, his good arm pressing against her side in an awkward twist, and the movement put pressure on his injured arm.
"Ow," he muttered, pulling back slightly, his face tight with pain.
Celeste immediately pulled away, her cheeks burning. "Are you okay?"
Adrian blinked, his face quickly changing from anticipation to concern. He shook his head. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... my arm."
She took a step back, her heart still racing from the almost-kiss. She cleared her throat, avoiding his gaze. "You're lucky you didn't just injure yourself more."
Adrian managed a small, wry smile. "Guess we'll have to save the kiss for later."
Celeste looked up, and for a split second, their eyes met—her breath still shallow. She quickly looked away, flustered, a blush creeping up her neck.
"Shut up," she echoed, her voice sounding almost like a question.
Adrian's smirk grew, but he stayed quiet, his eyes lingering on her for just a moment longer than necessary.
Celeste turned and quickly walked out of the bathroom, her heart still racing, her mind a blur. The only thing she was sure of?
She was definitely not ready for that kiss.