Chapter Fourteen
Isla
I woke to warmth. An overwhelming, all-encompassing blanket that cocooned me—a heavy one.
Sunlight filtered through my lace curtains, painting my bedroom in soft gold, but the real source of warmth was the massive body curled around mine.
Adrian's tattooed arm was thrown possessively across my waist, his bare chest pressed against my back, his breath tickling my neck in slow, steady rhythms.
I let my fingers rest on his forearm, tracing an old chain-inked line, feeling where the skin raised and fell in places only I was allowed to touch now.
The ribbon around my throat was still there, a little loose now but proud.
I wiggled against him, and immediately his arm tightened around me, pulling me closer.
His nose nuzzled into the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply as if he’d never let go .
"Morning, angel," he rumbled, his voice graveled with sleep. His lips brushed against the ribbon, sending a shiver down my spine.
"Morning," I whispered back, unable to stop the smile spreading across my face.
He didn’t need much of an excuse to turn feral.
“You smell so fucking good,” he growled, licking from the edge of the ribbon to my earlobe. “Like summer and mine.”
His hand splayed over my stomach, fingers wandering beneath my sleep dress, tracing patterns that made my whole body light up.
I giggled because Adrian brought out that kind of happiness in me. "Is that a compliment?"
"The highest," he assured, and as if he couldn’t figure out how to say more, he bit at my shoulder instead, playful but tinged with that wildness that haunted his every move.
My gaze drifted to the nightstand, where Adrian's jade-handled knife sat within easy reach. He'd placed it there before we'd fallen asleep, something he’d explained as an extension of his being.
I stretched, reaching for my phone, but before I could get far, Adrian let out a low growl, arms caging me as he rolled me onto my back and loomed above, green eyes wild and bright.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
I tried to squirm, breathless and already laughing. “Just checking my phone!”
He pouted, all dramatic. “Your phone is more important than me? Angel, I’m mortally wounded.”
Yet, his lips never left my neck, brushing the ribbon as if it would vanish without his attention.
After a minute, he shifted his weight, allowing me to reach for my phone while he continued his exploration of my neck, his lips and teeth finding all the sensitive spots.
“You have exactly thirty seconds,” he said, all mock-serious swagger, “then I’m tossing that thing out the window.” He nudged my sleepdress higher as if to mark each second he was losing.
"So generous," I teased, unlocking my screen .
My smile faded as notifications flooded my display. Thirty-nine missed calls from Crew and a barrage of texts, each more freaked out than the last:
Crew
ISLA WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL????
WHO WAS THAT GUY
CALL ME RIGHT NOW
I’M GOING TO KILL YOU
ISLA ANNIKA HILLS
HELLO?????????????????????????
My stomach swooped.
"Oh god," I breathed, scrolling through the messages with growing horror.
Adrian lifted his head, instantly alert to the change in my mood. "What is it?”
I twisted the phone so he could see, scrolling through the horror-filled messages. “My brother saw the livestream. He’s… freaking out.”
Adrian's expression shifted from concern to something more calculating, then settled into a smile that was equal parts apologetic and utterly unrepentant.
"Oops?" he offered, not looking remotely sorry. He propped himself up on one elbow, his free hand still tracing patterns on my skin.
"Want me to talk to him? FaceTime to stun the guy?”
The thought of Adrian—six-foot-four of tattooed muscle, not to mention famous in a way Crew was definitely aware of, meeting him… that would be insane.
Crew might literally pass out.
"Maybe not yet," I mumbled, trying to imagine how that conversation would go. "I should probably call him first so he doesn’t die.”
Adrian nodded, surprisingly understanding. "Fair enough." He pressed a kiss to my temple, then rolled onto his back, pulling me with him so I was sprawled across his chest.
"But after that, you're all mine again. No more distractions, not even little brothers.”
I made a face, and then took a deep breath, thumb hovering over Crew's contact.
Adrian shifted behind me, his large body radiating heat as he propped his chin on my shoulder to peer at my phone screen.
"Thirty-nine missed calls," he whistled, his breath tickling my ear. "Your brother's persistent."
“He’s younger, but he’s always been protective,” I explained, thumb hovering over the call button as I blew out a breath.
Adrian's arms locked around my waist, lips brushing my skin. "I like him already. Guys who take care of their girls are my favorite kind.”
I leaned back into his heat, drawing strength from his solid presence as I finally hit the call button.
Crew answered on the first ring, his voice bursting through the speaker.
"ISLA! What the actual—" His voice came in a shriek, concern and panic colliding. "Where have you been??? I've been calling all night???”
"I'm fine, Crew. I was just?—"
"Who was that guy? The one with the tattoos?”
He continued, drowning me out. “The one who grabbed you like that on camera? Do you know how many people have seen that clip? It's everywhere!"
I winced, catching Adrian’s wolfish smirk and the dangerous sparkle in his eyes as he listened.
Sunlight worked magic through his unruly hair, turning him from “scary boxer” to “dangerous Greek god,” which unfortunately did nothing to help the situation.
"He’s, um… a friend," I lied—badly, because there wasn’t a universe where Adrian was just a friend .
Not when his knife slept on my nightstand or with bites from his mouth still blooming on my thighs.
Crew’s voice ratcheted up another octave. “A friend ? Sure. Letting ‘friends’ just manhandle you on stream? Half of my school is texting me about my sister’s ‘mystery man,’ and I’ve been fielding memes since I woke up! My coach sent a GIF, Isla. My coach. ”
I wanted to melt into my pillow, but Adrian’s arm just flexed, holding me captive and entertained. I could feel the laughter ready to break out of him, the jerk.
“I’m sorry, Crew, I—look, it just happened and?—”
“OBVIOUSLY IT DID,” Crew literally wailed. “Mom and Dad don’t know yet, but Mrs. Pete from Mom’s club already liked it. If this is your soft launch, I’m about to send Mom a full-blown warning.”
Adrian chose that moment to nuzzle into my neck, deciding it was a great idea to sink his teeth into my skin.
I gasped and swatted at him, trying to maintain my composure. He just waggled his eyebrows.
“Wait. Isla, is he there—he’s there, isn’t he?! You don’t even KNOW this guy! Get out now—let me talk to him?—”
Before I could wrestle control back, Adrian smoothly plucked the phone from my hand.
“Actually, she knows me quite well, Crew.” His tone oozed calm, dominant and self-assured.
“I’m Adrian. Very nice to finally meet the legendary little brother.”
I scrambled after him, nearly tripping on my own sheet as Adrian pivoted to the window, phone held high and out of reach, abusing his godly height.
“Listen, kid. I get it. Brothers—very protective, it’s honestly a plus. But she’s safe with me, you have my word.” His voice was gentle, but there was iron underneath.
Crew’s screech on the other end was unintelligible.
Adrian’s grin shifted, genuine and a little vulnerable, with just enough wolf behind it that I actually felt bad for my little brother .
“Yeah, it seems sudden.” He glanced at me, and in contrast to his words, there was no apology in his eyes. "But I care about her. A lot."
Something in his tone made my heart skip. This wasn't just part of the fun anymore.
"Tell you what," Adrian started, "Why don't you come meet me? Judge for yourself."
He paused, listening. "Yeah, I'm serious. Bring your parents too, if you want."
My eyes widened in panic.
Adrian meeting my family? My sweet, normal family, who knew nothing about tattooed boxers who carried knives and looked at me like I was something to devour?
“Deal,” Adrian was saying. "Tonight at 6. Isla will text you the address."
He tossed the phone back, looking more smug than any man had a right to, standing there shirtless, glorious and thoroughly pleased with himself.
"What did you just do?" I hissed, pressing the phone to my ear. "Crew?"
"I'm meeting your boyfriend tonight,” my brother said, his voice tight but determined.
"And if I don't like what I see, I'm telling Mom and Dad about the video."
"He's—” I began, but the menace had already hung up.
“I secured a family summit,” Adrian smiled, pulling me back into his arms, his lips finding that ribbon again. “I want them to know you’re mine, angel. No hiding.”
“But they’re—Crew is—” I gestured helplessly at the pure menace of his tattoos, knife-tatted abs, and general "could bench-press my dad" presence.
“You’re you.”
He grinned and shrugged, annoyingly cocky. “What? You think I can’t charm your family? Hurtful. ”
Leaning in, he pressed a kiss to the tip of my nose—sweet, totally at odds with the chaos rumbling in his chest.
“No knives, no threats, no public marking. I promise I’ll pretend I’m a law-abiding citizen. At least until dessert.”
“That’s not…” I tried, but laughter overtook me. “That is not helping.”
“Oh, I’ll help, angel. Just maybe not the way your family hopes.” His voice softened as he squeezed my waist, lips brushing the shell of my ear.
“But you… You’re all I’m after.”
My phone buzzed again, this time with notifications from social media. I glanced down to see dozens of new comments on my latest post, all variations of the same questions:
Who is he???
OMG that hand on your throat. I can't breathe.
Isla taken? Spill the tea sis!!
"You've caused quite the stir," I muttered, showing Adrian the screen.
He scanned the comments, beaming like he’d just won a fight. “Good. Now the whole world knows you’re mine.”
His hand cupped my jaw, thumb brushing my lower lip, a claim slinking from his voice.
"What am I going to tell them?" I asked, genuinely unsure. "About us?"
Adrian's eyes darkened as he looked down at me.
“You say whatever you want, Isla. All that matters is this—” his finger slid under the ribbon, and tugged gently, “—you know whose you are. That’s enough.”
I melted into him, resolve steeling itself somewhere beneath the new bruises and the old heartbreaks.
All my nerves about introducing Adrian to my family paled against the perfection of having him here, menacing and all.
"Sooo," I tried, playful, “what are you thinking of wearing tomorrow? Please don’t say a crop top. ”
Adrian's laugh echoed through my apartment, bright and dangerous and perfect. “Relax, angel. I'll save the crop tops for our second date. Don’t want to terrify your family first thing.”
I found myself laughing too, the sound mingling with his until it felt like the most natural thing in the world.