Chapter 50: Privacy?
TERESA’S P.O.V.
A soft but insistent knock on my door tugged me from the hazy grip of sleep. That had to be Adrian; no one else had come to my place so early in the month and half I’d been living here. I sleepily blinked at the clock—8 a.m. Oh, thank goodness, I thought with relief. Yesterday, Adrian had shown up at 7 on the dot, catching me in full-on bedhead mode. Today, however, was apparently a more civilized hour.
I stumbled to the door and opened it, and there he was—Adrian Daegon, standing there with his effortless charm, looking as put together as if he had an entire entourage behind him. His calm, knowing smile was the kind of smile that made you wonder if he was always this unruffled or if he practiced it in the mirror.
"Good morning, Teresa," he greeted, voice smooth as warm honey. "I’m here to take you to the hospital, just as promised."
I blinked, my cheeks instantly warming. I had completely forgotten about that. I was even planning on laying about on my bed all day today. I cleared my throat and tried to shake the sleep from my brain. "Oh, right! Yeah, um... would you like to come in? I just need a few minutes to get ready."
"Of course," he said, stepping in with a nod and a faint smile. He moved with that understated grace that somehow both filled the room and put me completely at ease. Meanwhile, I scrambled off to get myself together, leaving him standing alone in my tiny living space.
Believe it or not, given the life Luke and I ended up with, I was never one for getting close to strangers. My first instinct? Turn around and run. But with Lucian, I let myself get pulled in, and now with Adrian—a guy who seemed to think "privacy" was just a suggestion—I was being drawn in again, this time to a whole new mystery. But now, things were different. My heart was locked up tighter than a vault, and I wasn’t about to let anyone, no matter how ridiculously attractive, even try to break in.
While I threw on clothes and tried to tame my hair into something that didn’t resemble a bird’s nest, I could hear sounds from the kitchen. Wait... the kitchen? I emerged, both curious and a little apprehensive, only to find Adrian at my stove, for the second time in two days, casually flipping pancakes like he owned the place.
I stopped in my tracks, staring. "Adrian... you’re... making breakfast again?"