12. Adrian
12
ADRIAN
I wake up slowly, which is unusual for me. I can’t remember the last time I was up after the sun, but apparently, I slept hard. Extremely hard. My muscles are so relaxed that it feels like they’re still asleep, sinking into the bed and refusing to move.
If I were at home, I’d have already eaten, worked out, and had a meeting or two. Emails checked and sent. To-do list and schedule finalized. But this is different. I’m rested, comfortable, and content in a way I haven’t felt in years.
When my muscles finally accept my orders, I reach for Ella, but all I feel are cold sheets. My eyes snap open. She’s gone.
I jolt up, throwing off the covers as I scan the room. The bathroom door’s open. The suite is completely silent, but my thoughts are rampaging.
Did I do something in my sleep? Say something? My mind spins with worst-case scenarios. Maybe she left. Had second thoughts. Maybe…
I need to calm down. From my experience, the worst-case scenario rarely happens, and there’s no reason for me to spin myself out of control over something that will fix itself in a few minutes.
I’ll take a shower. Get dressed. And by the time I’m done, I’m sure Ella will be back from wherever she went. I take a few moments to collect myself and then head into the bathroom.
The warm water does wonders, but I still can’t push the uncomfortable thoughts from my head. I’ve been making things complicated for her. I’ve been pushing too hard. Shit, I damn near mauled her the last time we were in this room because I couldn’t control myself. Some primal part of me took over, and I kissed her.
I brush fingertips across my lips, tingling as I remember her sweet taste. Those moans. Her irresistible body. I can’t be imagining her response to me. The way she was looking at me last night. The way she invited me into bed. If she didn’t feel anything, she’d have no problem shutting me out. Shutting me down. There’s an exit clause in the contract that allows her to leave at any point if she’s uncomfortable, no questions asked. She gets paid. Sent home. Everything.
I swallow hard.
Maybe she exercised it.
I guess I should check my phone to see if there’s a message from my assistant since she’d be the one booking Ella’s flight out of here.
I shut the water off and hop out of the shower, wrapping a towel around my waist as I make my way to the living area. I left my phone on the table last night. Ella almost caught me staring at the photos I’d snapped of her.
I couldn’t help myself. I needed to see her face again.
I open the bedroom door and stride to my phone. Before I have the chance to unlock it, the door to our suite unlocks, and in walks Ella.
She freezes when she sees me. Eyes wide. Deer in the headlights as she stares at me. Continues to stare at me. Her gaze travels the length of me before snapping back to my face as her cheeks explode in color.
“I-you’re—” She wanders awkwardly through the room, turning around, walking, retracing her steps, bumping into the couch, her gaze everywhere but on me.
Finally, she sets a few bags on the table, humming to herself and still refusing to look at me. “Are you alright, Ella?”
She turns, blush deepening as her gaze makes direct contact with my chest, abs, and then bulge.
“Sausage,” she blurts, before shaking her head and meeting my eyes. “Breakfast sausage. Hot. Right there.” She points to the bags. “I got us breakfast. Food. Eat.”
I bite back a smile, amused by her flustered response. For someone who makes her living performing, she’s surprisingly transparent when caught off guard.
“Thanks,” I say, making no move to cover up anymore. “That was thoughtful.”
She nods, clutching the bakery box like a shield and maintaining eye contact. Mostly. Her gaze drifts a few times, but I don’t mind. Take a good look, Ella. It’s all yours. All you have to do is ask. I won’t make you beg.
“You’re very welcome. And very…” She waves her free hand vaguely in my direction. “Naked. Fit and naked.”
She turns, setting the box down with the rest of the food. The paper bags crinkle as she removes the sandwiches, laying out napkins and forks and refusing to turn back around.
“I’ll get a shirt on,” I offer, finally taking pity on her now that she’s arranged and rearranged the food on the table twice. If I don’t, she might attempt dusting or vacuuming or reorganizing the minibar.
“No!” she blurts. Her face somehow turns an even darker shade of red as her expression transforms into pure mortification. “I mean, yes. Of course.” She clears her throat. “Good idea. Shirts are good. Great. Important. Essential, really. I’m going to eat this box of pastries now.”
She turns around as I try not to laugh. “Save one for me.”
Ella mumbles something, and I retreat into the bedroom to change. When I re-emerge fully dressed, Ella has composed herself somewhat and has once again rearranged breakfast, setting it on the small table by the window.
“Coffee?” she offers, holding out a cup.
I walk over to her. “I’d love some.” Our fingers brush as I take it from her, and even that brief contact sends an electric current through me. “Sleep well?”
“Yes,” she says, not quite meeting my eyes. “Better than I have in a while, actually. You?”
“Same.” I take a sip of coffee to hide my expression. “I haven’t slept that deeply in years.”
She smiles and then sips her coffee. “Must be all the fresh sea air from last night.”
“Or the gelato and pizza. My body’s not used to food that heavy.”
Ella hums, her cheeks blushing. “Definitely.”
Although I’m sure we both know the real reason. Sleeping next to Ella felt right. Natural. And from the moment I slid in next to her and heard her rhythmic breathing, I felt my body relax as quickly and smoothly as a curtain being pulled over me.
“So what’s for breakfast again?”
Ella stares at me, smiles, and mutters. “A sausage breakfast sandwich. There’s bacon and egg and cheese on it too. Added some avocado too for good measure.”
“The works?”
“Of course. I need to get my fill before I spend the rest of the day eating like a rabbit. Or fasting…”
She sighs and then takes a massive bite out of her sandwich, swallowing it a few moments later. “Don’t judge.”
I shrug. “I’d never.”
After digging into my own sandwich, I understand. This thing is amazing.
“I ran into Sariah and Max downstairs. They were completely understanding about us ditching early.”
“I wouldn’t call it ditching.”
“Lillian thinks so, apparently. She made an appearance as well.” Ella sighs, setting down her sandwich.
“Who cares what she thinks? My parents love you. Max and Sariah, too. I—” damn near said I loved her. And it wouldn’t be a lie. “I think you’ve done amazingly well with such short notice. You’ve been thrown into the deep end without a life preserver, but you’ve survived. Thrived. I’m proud of you.”
She studies me for a few moments. “Thanks.”
We settle into a comfortable silence, neither of us feeling the need to break it as we eat, glancing out the windows. I can’t remember the last time I’ve been this comfortable with someone. Or the last time I’ve spent this long without checking my phone or thinking about work. There could be a million little fires I need to put out right now at work, but I have no idea. And honestly, I don’t care. All that matters to me right now is enjoying whatever time I have left with Ella.
It feels like we’re in this little bubble. I hope we can float along a while longer because I’m not looking forward to the day it pops.
“I want to help you,” I say after some time.
Ella stares at me. “Help me?”
“That story you told my parents. About your teacher. Your school. How you want to give back. I want to help you start that foundation.”
She smiles, cheeks reddening again. And again, I’m struck by how gorgeous she is. Every piece of her. “Thanks. I mean it. But that’s so far away. It’s a goal. A journey. It’s not something I need or expect right now. I mean, I’m hardly making it as an actress as it is. I wouldn’t even say I’m making it.” She shrugs, turning her attention to some indeterminate spot outside. “I’m scraping by. That’s why I wanted that PA job. Something to get me in the door. Some connections. Starting a foundation for the arts when I haven’t really even started my career? I’d feel like a fraud.”
I swallow hard. “That’s going to turn around. I promise you. I’ll do everything in my power to help you succeed. I’ll—I just want to make sure you know I’m here. Even after all of this is over.”
She turns back to me, a haunted look on her face. But then it falls away so fast that I think I might be imagining it. “Thanks. And thanks for taking care of me last night,” she adds, changing the subject. “I’m not sure what would’ve happened if you weren’t there.”
“Might’ve been a messy situation.”
She sighs, shaking her head. “You could say that.”
“On a brighter note. The wedding’s on land. No planes or boats. Just solid ground.”
“That’s a welcome change. But I’d rather the wedding be on a sailboat than have to endure another day of pretending to be a vegetarian.”
“I’ll be sure to sneak you some appetizers. Should we find a drop spot for them?”
She snorts. “A drug deal? I like this idea. I expect a baggy full of appetizers tonight. Prompt delivery.”
“Only if I get prompt payment.”
“A billionaire asking a broke actress for money? Can you get any lower?”
“I’m not asking for money.”
Her cheeks redden as she takes a sip of her water. “What are you asking for?”
“Another kiss. We haven’t had our first public kiss. How else will my family know we’re the real deal?”
She shakes her head. “You think we’ve practiced enough?”
“I could use a refresher.”
She considers it for a moment but then shakes her head. “I think you need to save this energy for tonight.”
“If that’s what you want.”
Another sip. Another long look. “It is.”
“Then consider yourself on notice, Ella.” I stand up and move around the table toward Ella slowly. I lean in. “I’m going to kiss you. And it’s going to make you reconsider why you waited so long.”
She’s silent for a moment. But then: “I hope you’re right.”
* * *
Wow.
I grip the edge of the high-top table as Ella re-emerges from the crowd of guests in front of me. It feels as though I’m seeing her for the first time all over again. The primal feelings return. The need to claim her. I’ve been aching to kiss her all evening. Feel those damn lips of hers. Taste her. But we’ve kept it respectful between us.
No public displays of affection other than a hand on the small of her back. A chaste kiss on her forehead. The back of her hand. Nothing like what I want to do to her. What I’ve imagined doing to her from the moment I met her.
That one kiss in our hotel room feels like an eternity ago. I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to go on without claiming her lips again.
I sip my drink, trying to settle my nerves as I watch Ella navigate her way through the crowd of people between us. She’s all I can see. All I can focus on. Everything else is a blur. Not even the persistent, heavy thump of music coming from the dance floor registers as anything more than a weak tapping. She disappears behind another group of people, but I know instinctively where she’ll re-emerge.
When she re-enters my field of view, she pauses for a brief moment, sharing a few words with someone, but her eyes remain fixed on mine. Her lips curl into a smile, squeezing the air out of my lungs as she walks toward me. Stunning. Gorgeous. Perfect. There’s not a single word that captures her beauty. And when she finally reaches the table, I can’t help but stare.
She sets her drink down next to mine, leaning in to speak over the music. “I’m surprised Lillian hasn’t latched onto you while I was gone.”
“Yeah? Feeling a little jealous? Possessive?”
She pulls back, eyeing me as she smiles. “Me? Never. “
“Oh?” I slide my hand around her waist and tug her closer. “Because I’m feeling a little possessive.”
The air shifts between us. It’s the first time tonight that I’ve started acting on my urges. Needs. Wants. I’ve played the role of a doting boyfriend, and Ella’s played the role of a loving girlfriend masterfully. But now I want to play something else.
“You know we haven’t had our kiss yet.”
My pulse is thrumming as I stroke her back. I’ve been thinking about kissing her all night. I considered pulling her into a closet or dragging her out onto one of the balconies. The clerestory was empty during the ceremony, and I considered pulling her away from the crowd as we cleared out of the cathedral, but Ella was swept away into another conversation.
Ella’s fingers dig into my side. “We haven’t? Strange. I thought we did.”
I swallow hard. “You’d remember.”
Ella sighs, fingering her glass as her cheeks redden.
“Much like you’re remembering our first kiss back at the hotel right now.”
My grip tightens around her waist.
Her finger pauses.
“I’m not sure that kind of kiss would be appropriate in public.”
“There’s a balcony through there. Only the staff use it. We could?—”
“I’m not sure you should be talking to your fake girlfriend like that.”
Fake. I hate that word. Hearing it cross her lips makes my chest burn. I thought I’d made progress. I thought she felt the same, but maybe I’m wrong. Maybe…
“Is that how you feel? Do you think this is fake?”
She pauses for a few moments, glancing at the sea of people around us. I follow her gaze, but everyone blends into one indiscernible blob. I can’t pick out a single face. Nothing seems familiar. Even the music sounds like nothing more than unintelligible noise.
“I don’t know what to think anymore.”
“Then I’ll tell you what I think. My thoughts about you and me and this whole arrangement couldn’t be any clearer.”
I’ve known it from the moment I saw her face in my office. A forgotten part of me, dormant for decades, stirred. Woke up when I touched her. And now it’s wide awake, frothing at the mouth, begging her to see it.
“Adrian!” My brother claps me on my back. “Why aren’t you guys dancing? Are you having a good time? Do you need another?—”
Motherfu— Why now? Could he have waited one more minute? Hell, another ten seconds would have sufficed.
“We’re great, Max,” I say, deflecting him before he goes into full caretaker mode. I don’t recall the last time I saw my brother drunk. If I weren’t so annoyed, I’d find it somewhat amusing.
“Great,” he says, clapping my back again before turning to Ella. “I’m so glad you’re here and that it’s not awkward at all.”
Ella and I stare at him, but he’s so tipsy that he doesn’t realize the awkward silence hanging between us.
“Not awkward at all,” Ella responds with a snorted laugh.
He sighs, wrapping his arm around me as he focuses on Ella. “I can’t believe this guy is actually in a relationship after everything Sariah’s told me.”
I grit my teeth, the muscles in my jaw cinched tight as I see Ella’s demeanor shift.
“Oh?
Ella looks concerned. I’m feeling concerned. What is Max on about? Maybe drunk Max isn’t as fun as I thought.
“I can’t believe I said that.” Max pauses and then laughs. “I’m drunk. I don’t know what I’m saying. Forget what I said. It’s nothing. You two are great together.”
“So are you and Sariah,” Ella says, ignoring Max’s comment. “Adrian and I are so happy for you two. Sariah is such a wonderful person.”
“So wonderful,” Max says, slightly unsteady on his feet.
Beyonce’s Single Ladies starts blaring, and immediately, Max sobers up. Stone faced as he looks up at the ceiling like he sees the damn Bat-Signal. “This is my song.”
“It is?” I ask.
“Inside joke with Sariah. I have to find her.” He spins around, walks a few feet before spinning around again, losing his balance, and catching himself on a chair. “Lillian wanted me to let you know she’s ready for that dance you promised her.”
“That doesn’t sound like something I’d promise because I don’t dance.”
Max shrugs and then heads for the dance floor, walking into a table before readjusting course.
Ella turns to me. “That was… interesting.”
“One word for it, I guess.”
I have no idea what Sariah told Max. There isn’t some secret in that relationship, at least, not that I know of. But I hate how such an offhand comment threw a wrench in Ella’s mood. It’s clear she’s trying to shake it off, but there’s a distinct change in her demeanor.
“I have no idea what he meant by that.”
“By what?” she asks before taking a sip of water.
“That weird comment about—never mind, it doesn’t matter.”
But it does. The mood has shifted. I can feel it.
“It’s a real shame,” she says after a few moments.
“What?” My heart is hammering.
“That you don’t dance.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. Maybe I had it wrong. It’s all in my head.
“I’m always willing to renegotiate.”
Do anything for you.
She smiles. “I’m glad. Because I can’t remember the last time I danced and, what can I say, I’m with Max on this one.”
She starts mouthing the lyrics, awkwardly moving backwards as she shakes her arms.
“If that’s how you dance, I guess I’m in good company.”
“ Pffft. You haven’t seen anything yet.”
She whips out the sprinkler before transitioning into…
“Is that The Frug?”
“Call it whatever you want,” she says before pretending to lasso me, tugging on the invisible rope. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”
But I’ve seen enough to know that Ella Bridges is the only one for me.