I Never Get Tired Of Coming Home To You
Adrian started coming home earlier after Lia moved in.
At first she thought it was coincidence.
Then she realized billionaires apparently did not "accidentally" reschedule meetings to make it home before dinner.
Especially not billionaires like Adrian.
—
Thursday evening settled softly over the city.
Rain clouds hung low against the skyline while warm lights glowed throughout the penthouse.
Lia stood barefoot in the kitchen attempting to cook pasta while aggressively losing a fight against garlic bread.
Which honestly felt humiliating.
"How did you burn bread?"
Lia looked up instantly.
Adrian stood near the kitchen entrance loosening his tie with one hand, exhaustion still lingering faintly around his eyes from work.
But the second he saw her—
everything softened.
Immediately.
Like always.
Warmth spread through her chest before she could stop it.
"You're home early."
The quiet happiness in her voice visibly affected him.
A tiny shift.
Barely noticeable.
But there.
Adrian walked toward her slowly, setting his briefcase aside somewhere along the way without looking.
His entire attention remained fixed completely on her.
"I moved two meetings."
Lia blinked softly.
"You rearranged your schedule for pasta?"
A faint smile touched his mouth.
"I rearranged my schedule because you're here."
God.
The sincerity would genuinely kill her someday.
Adrian stopped directly in front of her before his hands settled automatically against her waist.
Warm.
Comforting.
Necessary now.
He leaned down slightly, brushing a soft kiss against her forehead.
Then another near her temple.
Like he physically couldn't come home without touching her first anymore.
Lia's fingers slid automatically against the front of his shirt.
Immediate reaction.
Adrian's breathing softened instantly.
"You smell like rain."
"You smell like garlic bread homicide."
She laughed softly before hiding part of her face against his chest.
"I got distracted."
"You were reading while cooking again."
Heat rushed lightly into her cheeks.
Because unfortunately—
also true.
Adrian's fingers brushed slowly along her spine while he looked around the kitchen.
The mess of ingredients.
The half-open cookbook.
Two wine glasses already waiting near the counter.
The soft music playing from the speakers.
Something visibly emotional crossed his face.
Lia noticed immediately.
"What?"
A faint breath escaped him.
"You made dinner."
The roughness in his voice wrapped tightly around her chest.
Because Adrian sounded genuinely affected by that.
Like someone waiting for him at home still felt impossible to fully process.
Lia swallowed carefully.
"You make it sound dramatic."
"It is dramatic to me."
The honesty shattered straight through her heart.
Because suddenly—
she imagined Adrian before this.
Late nights alone.
Perfect silent apartment.
Takeout containers instead of warm kitchens.
Nobody waiting for him to come home.
Nothing soft.
Nothing lived in.
The realization physically hurt.
Adrian noticed immediately.
"You look sad again."
"You say heartbreaking things too casually."
A faint smile appeared briefly.
"You still stay."
The quietness in his voice nearly ruined her emotionally.
Because even now—
even after moving in together—
Adrian still sounded relieved every time she chose this life with him again.
Lia reached up slowly and loosened the rest of his tie carefully.
Immediate reaction.
Always immediate.
Adrian went completely still beneath her hands.
Dark eyes fixed entirely on her face.
"You do things like that," he murmured softly, "and then act surprised when I lose my mind over you."
Warmth spread through her chest.
"You're dramatic."
"You moved into my apartment and started cooking dinner in my kitchen." His hands tightened slightly against her waist. "I'm allowed to be dramatic."
Unfortunately—
that was fair.
Adrian leaned down slowly until his forehead rested lightly against hers.
Comfortable.
Natural.
Home.
The realization still overwhelmed her sometimes.
The fact that this enormous penthouse no longer felt intimidating.
Now it just felt like Adrian.
Warm lighting.
His coffee mugs beside hers.
His clothes mixed with her laundry.
Tiny pieces of intimacy built quietly into everyday life.
"You know what's strange?" Lia whispered softly.
His eyes softened immediately.
"What?"
"You don't feel lonely anymore."
Silence.
Then Adrian's composure visibly cracked.
Not dramatically.
Just enough for her to see how deeply those words hit him.
A quiet breath escaped him while his fingers brushed carefully along her waist.
"No," he admitted softly.
The honesty settled warmly into the kitchen around them.
Adrian looked away briefly toward the windows before continuing quieter:
"I used to hate coming back here."
Lia's chest tightened instantly.
"Why?"
"It never felt like anyone would notice if I came home or not."
The confession shattered straight through her.
Because Adrian said it so calmly.
Like loneliness had simply become normal before her.
His gaze slowly returned to her again.
"But now..."
His thumb brushed lightly beneath the hem of her sweater.
"...you're always here."
The words wrapped painfully around her heart.
Because Adrian sounded almost overwhelmed by the comfort of it.
Lia's hands slid slowly upward around his neck.
Immediate reaction.
His arms tightened around her automatically.
Protective.
Certain.
Like holding her close physically grounded him after long days.
"You know what your problem is?" she whispered softly.
A faint flicker crossed his face.
"What?"
"You act like being loved is still surprising."
Silence again.
Heavy.
Tender.
Then Adrian smiled faintly.
Not polished.
Not careful.
Just real.
"You make everything I never thought I'd have feel normal."
The confession nearly ruined her emotionally.
Because Adrian sounded so sincere.
Like love had stopped feeling impossible around her.
The pasta boiled over suddenly behind them.
Lia jumped instantly.
"Oh my god."
Adrian laughed.
Actually laughed.
Warm and low and beautiful enough to steal her breath for a second.
Then he reached around her calmly to turn the stove down.
His chest pressed lightly against her back while one arm stayed loosely around her waist.
Comfortable.
Domestic.
Dangerously intimate.
"You're terrible at this," he murmured softly near her ear.
"You still came home early for it."
A quiet silence followed.
Then Adrian turned his head slightly, pressing a slow kiss against her temple.
And softly—
with enough affection in his voice to ruin her permanently—
"I never get tired of coming home to you."