17. Eliana #2
Later, as evening settled over the cottage, Adrian and I sat together on the porch beneath a sky crowded with stars.
The last traces of sunlight had disappeared beyond the horizon, leaving the ocean dark beneath the moonlight.
Early summer had settled comfortably over the coast, bringing warm, slightly humid air and a gentle breeze that carried the scent of saltwater from the beach.
The towering pines surrounding the cottage rustled softly behind us, their branches moving with every passing breeze.
We shared a blanket across our laps more for comfort than necessity, sitting close enough that our shoulders brushed from time to time.
After everything that had happened over the past few weeks, the simplicity of the moment felt almost unreal.
There were no cameras waiting outside, no reporters trying to capture our expressions, no schedules demanding Adrian's attention, and no reason to perform for anyone.
There was only the ocean, the stars, and the man sitting beside me.
I rested my chin against my hand and looked toward the horizon. "I think I'm finally beginning to understand why billionaire romances always include extravagant scenery."
Adrian turned toward me, amusement appearing in his eyes. "What brought you to that conclusion?"
"Because apparently, no billionaire romance is complete without a private beach, an enormous house, and enough stars to make an ordinary woman question whether the universe has suddenly become ridiculously expensive.
" I gestured toward the ocean. "This is basically every romance novel I've ever read. "
He laughed softly before looking back toward the water. "It was never the places."
I turned toward him.
His expression had changed. The amusement had faded, replaced by something more sincere.
"It was always who I wanted to share them with," he said.
My cheeks warmed.
I lowered my gaze, suddenly very interested in the edge of the blanket. Adrian had already told me he loved me. I knew how he felt about me, yet hearing him say something like that still affected me in a way I hadn't learned how to control.
"You realize you're making it very difficult for me to remember this was supposed to be fake," I admitted.
He looked at me for a moment before answering. "I stopped remembering that a long time ago."
My heart skipped.
I looked toward the ocean again, pretending I needed to watch the waves.
How had this happened?
Maybe it hadn't happened suddenly at all. Maybe I'd simply been too afraid to recognize what had been growing between us.
We remained outside until the stars filled the entire sky and the gentle breeze moved through my hair. The night was still warm, but Adrian eventually stood and held out his hand.
"Come inside."
I looked up at him. "Why?"
"Because you're getting distracted by the scenery and forgetting that you have a perfectly good bed waiting for you."
I smiled. "That's not a very romantic reason."
"I can give you a better one."
"And what would that be?"
He offered his hand again. "I want you inside with me."
That was enough.
I placed my hand in his, and he helped me to my feet before we walked back into the cottage.
The living room looked different at night.
The fireplace cast a golden glow across the wooden walls while moonlight spilled through the large windows overlooking the ocean.
The early-summer air was still comfortable, so we left the windows slightly open, allowing the breeze to move through the room.
I expected Adrian to close the curtains.
Instead, he walked toward the piano.
He sat down without saying anything.
I watched him curiously as his fingers settled over the keys.
Then he began to play.
The first notes reached me, and I froze.
I knew that melody.
My breath caught as Can't Help Falling in Love filled the room.
I stared at him.
"How do you know this is my favorite song?"
His fingers continued moving across the keys. He didn't look at me immediately.
"Some songs are impossible to forget."
My heart gave a strange little pull.
There was something about the answer that felt deeply personal. Once again, I had the sensation that Adrian knew things about me that I had never told him.
I should have questioned it.
Instead, I watched him play.
The melody filled the cottage, blending with the distant sound of the ocean outside. When the final note faded, Adrian slowly lifted his eyes toward me.
I walked toward him.
He stood.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
I reached for his hand, and his fingers closed around mine.
"Will you dance with me?" I asked.
He glanced toward the piano. "The song already ended."
"Then we'll pretend it's still playing."
A smile touched his face as his arm settled around my waist. I placed my hand against his shoulder, and we began moving slowly across the wooden floor.
There was no music anymore, but neither of us seemed to care.
The fireplace flickered behind us while moonlight stretched across the floor. The warm breeze drifted through the open window, brushing against my skin.
For once, Adrian didn't tease me.
I didn't tease him either.
There was no need.
I looked into his eyes and remembered the first time we'd met, the ridiculous arrangement we'd created, the cameras, the fake smiles, and all the reasons we'd given ourselves for why this could never become real.
Yet here I was, standing in his arms and knowing that every excuse had already fallen apart.
Adrian lifted one hand to my cheek.
His thumb brushed gently across my skin.
"You're beautiful," he whispered.
I smiled. "You say that too often."
"Not nearly often enough."
I shook my head, but I didn't look away.
He leaned closer.
I knew what was coming, yet when his lips finally touched mine, my heart still raced.
The kiss was slow and hesitant, almost as though neither of us wanted to move too quickly and break the moment. His hand remained against my cheek while mine curled gently into his shirt.
When we parted, we stayed close.
His forehead rested against mine.
"I love you," he whispered.
I closed my eyes. "I know."
His fingers brushed my cheek again. "And?"
I opened my eyes and smiled.
"And I love you too."
Something softened in his face.
He pulled me closer, and I wrapped my arms around him.
There was no contract between us in that moment. No arrangement. No audience. Nothing we needed to explain.
Only us.
The kiss that followed was deeper, carrying all the feelings we'd spent weeks trying to contain. Every touch felt careful, every embrace more meaningful than the last. We moved together through the cottage as though neither of us wanted to create distance again.
Eventually, we left the living room behind.
The rest of the night passed in tenderness, affection, and a closeness neither of us needed to question.
For the first time since we'd agreed to pretend to be together, nothing about us felt fake.
Just Adrian and me, finally allowing ourselves to accept what we'd both already confessed.
Later, I lay beside him with my head against his chest, listening to his breathing. The window remained slightly open, allowing the warm summer breeze to drift into the room while the distant ocean continued its steady rhythm.
I thought about how strange my life had become.
A few weeks ago, Adrian Ashford had been nothing more than the billionaire I'd accidentally fallen asleep beside.
Now I was lying in his arms in a secluded cottage by the sea, completely and hopelessly in love with him.
Maybe this was what falling in love actually felt like.
Not some spectacular moment that changed everything at once, but hundreds of little moments that slowly became impossible to imagine living without.
His hand resting against mine.
His voice saying my name.
The way he looked at me when he thought I wasn't paying attention.
The way he remembered things I'd never told him.
I closed my eyes.
For once, I didn't want answers.
I only wanted this.
Eventually, sleep pulled me under.
I didn't know how long I'd been asleep when I stirred. The room was dark, and the warm summer air moved gently through the open window.
For several seconds, I remained still, trying to understand what had woken me.
Then I reached across the bed.
My hand touched the empty sheets.
Adrian was gone.
I sat up, suddenly alert, and listened.
The cottage was still except for the distant sound of waves breaking against the shore.
"Adrian?" I called softly.
There was no answer.
I slipped out of bed and wrapped a robe around myself before walking downstairs. The back door stood slightly open, and a warm breeze moved through the room, carrying the scent of the ocean.
I stepped outside.
Moonlight covered the beach, turning the shoreline silver. The summer night was still and comfortable, but something about seeing the cottage door open made uneasiness settle in my chest.
Then I saw him.
Adrian was sitting alone near the shoreline with his back toward me.
At first, I thought he was simply watching the ocean.
Then I noticed his shoulders trembling.
I stopped walking.
My heart tightened as I stared at the man who always seemed so composed and certain, the man who could walk into a room full of powerful people and command every eye without raising his voice.
He had his head bowed, one hand covering his face.
And Adrian Ashford was crying.