Lincoln is too busy glaring at him to care.
“I think you should calm down, Nash,” Adrian says softly, slowly guiding me behind him. “You made Nevaeh bleed. Wrong fucking move.”
This is the first time I’ve ever heard someone speak with so much authority. Lincoln’s eyes go wide, but Adrian gets in the Grenzenlos driver’s face.
“I suggest you leave.”
I don’t think Adrian is a violent person, yet, at this moment, I’m convinced he’d kick Lincoln’s ass if he had to.
“You know, Romana, she might be on a date with you, but I was the one who had his tongue down her throat only a few days ago,” Lincoln says with disgust on his face before turning to me. “I’m sorry I hurt you, butterfly, it wasn’t my intention. Send him home so I can take care of the cut.” I know he wants me to, I can read it on his face, but his words have me boiling from anger. His behavior is disgusting, and I want nothing to do with him.
“Get the fuck off my property. I don’t ever want to see you again.”
I step in front of Adrian to hand Lincoln the vase, a lot gentler than he shoved it at me and then slam the door in his face.
“Jesus,” I mumble and run my right hand through my hair, my left one still burning.
Adrian takes my hand to inspect the cut again. It’s not deep, and hardly bleeding, but he looks at it like Lincoln personally offended him and his entire bloodline.
“Where is your first-aid kit?” I look up at him, his eyes meeting my gaze. Whatever he spots in my face makes him even unhappier.
Adrian’s focus shifts back to the wound, but I pull my hand away to walk into the kitchen. The longer we stand there, the more I’ll get overwhelmed by the way he looks at me.
He follows but stays quiet.
“I’m sorry about Lincoln. I didn’t know he would show up here and make such a big scene,” I say and reach for the kit, which is, thanks to Papa, on the top shelf.
I hear Adrian snicker as he moves toward me and reaches for it. For a split second, his shirt lifts enough to show off his V-line, making my mouth water involuntarily.
“Don’t be sorry. Lincoln is the one who needs to properly apologize to you.”
Adrian opens the kit and pulls out an alcohol wipe to clean my cut. He does so silently, gently, as if he’s scared to hurt me more than Lincoln did. When I suck in a sharp breath from the burning the wipe leaves behind, Adrian blows on the wound to ease the ache.
“So, you kissed him,” he points out after a while of silence. I scan his beautiful face for jealousy, but there doesn’t seem to be any. He’s merely curious.
“Yeah. It was before I found out my job forbids it and we agreed to go on a date.”
Adrian nods as he finishes up taking care of my hand.
“It meant nothing,” I whisper, causing a smile to break out across his face.
He moves toward me until my back touches the counter. His hands move to each side of me, imprisoning me with his body. My heart hums happily at the proximity of him, at the way his cologne fills my nose.
“Maybe it did, maybe it didn’t, but if you ever let me kiss you, whatever it was will turn to dust and that boy will be history in your mind,” Adrian says, his mouth yet again too close to mine to be bearable.
I lick my lips as I watch him get closer and closer with every shallow breath of mine.
“I think I should go,mon paradis.” I furrow my brows.
“What did you just say?” I ask because I’m sure those last two words were French, and I only understoodmonasmy. He mumbled the other word too much for me to hear it.
Adrian smiles as he leans away from me.
“Let me tutor you in French, and I will tell you someday,” he offers, making my heart stutter for a moment.
“You would do that for me?” I ask, and he raises his fingers to play with a strand of my hair before tugging it behind my ear. Goosebumps appear on my body wherever his fingers graze my skin, my stomach tumbling at the softness of his touch.
“Absolutely.” He leans down to press the swiftest of kisses to my cheek, adding, “Text me,” and leaving my house again.
