Chapter 127 127

Chapter 127 127
It sounded ridiculous when I said it out loud. Was that his go-to move for anxiety? A tactical kiss to short-circuit my brain?
Adrian let out a low, genuine chuckle that seemed to start deep in his throat. This time, he didn't keep my head tucked away. Instead, he cupped my face with both of his hands, his palms warm against my skin. He tilted my head up until I had no choice but to look directly into his eyes. There was a playful, knowing light in them that made my stomach do a nervous flip.

"If I remember correctly, milady," he said, the corner of his mouth twitching upward, "first, it was an accident. And then... well, then you kissed me senseless. I really had no choice but to kiss you back and—"
"And nothing!" I cut him off, my face heating up again. I felt like a teenager caught in a lie. The fact that he was right—that I had been the one to deepen the kiss and lose my senses—only made it worse. I reached up and slapped his hands away from my face. It wasn't a hard strike, just enough to show my annoyance at his smugness.

I turned my body away from him, facing the window and staring out at the passing trees. I crossed my arms over my chest, hunching my shoulders to show him I was "angry." I knew I was being a bit dramatic, feigning a huff because I didn't know how to handle the vulnerability he was pulling out of me.

I waited for him to apologize or try to coax me back, but he remained silent.
Inside, I felt a low, rumbling growl from him—the kind of sound his wolf made when he was being challenged or teased. He didn't say a word, though. He just let me sit there in my self-imposed exile for a few seconds.
Then, the air behind me shifted. I felt him move closer, his presence a heavy, warm weight at my back. I didn't turn around, but my skin started to tingle with anticipation. I felt his breath, soft and steady, landing right against the sensitive skin of my neck. It was a silent invitation, a physical nudge that bypassed my brain and went straight to my instincts.

I knew I should stay firm. I should stay turned away and keep up the act of being annoyed. But my body had other plans. In a moment of absolute weakness, I stupidly adjusted my position, tilting my head just enough to give him better access. I felt like an idiot the moment I did it. I half expected him to let out a triumphant laugh, to mock me for how easily I’d given in, and then move away to leave me sitting there in a pile of my own embarrassment.
But the laugh never came.

Instead, I felt his arms slide around my waist. He pulled me backward until my back was flush against his chest, hugging me with a tight, desperate kind of strength. It wasn't a tease or a game anymore. He held me as if he were afraid I might vanish if he loosened his grip by even an inch. The silence in the car became heavy again, but this time, the doubt was gone. In the safety of his arms, with the steady rhythm of his breathing against my neck, I felt the last of my defenses finally start to crumble.

The heat from Adrian’s body pressed into my back, and for a long moment, the only sound was the steady roll of the car over the pavement. Then, his voice came, so soft it was almost a ghost of a sound against my skin.

"I'm sorry, my love," he whispered. I felt the vibration of his words travel through my neck, a low, rumbling apology that seemed to bypass my brain and go straight to my heart. "I didn't mean to upset you."

I stayed still, my back against his chest, feeling the conflict of wanting to let go and wanting to push him just a little bit more. I wasn't really as angry as I was letting on, but there was a part of me that needed to hear him say it—needed to know that this wasn't just a game of distraction or a tactical move to keep me calm. I wanted the truth of how he felt, not just a smooth explanation for why he’d kissed me.
"It was an accident, Adrian," I pressed, throwing his own words back at him with a bit of a stubborn edge. I wanted to see if he would stick to that story or if he’d finally break and show me what was actually going on in his head.

I felt him shift behind me, his grip tightening for a fraction of a second before he let out a long, ragged breath. He sounded like a man who was reaching the end of his rope, stripped of the Alpha armor he usually wore so well.
"I'm sorry," he said again, and this time his voice was different. It wasn't smooth or controlled. It was rough, almost shaking. "Those weren't the right words to use. I kissed you, okay? I kissed you because I love you. Alright?"

The raw honesty in his voice caught me off guard. The shaking in his tone, the way he sounded so desperate for me to understand—it hit me right in the center of my chest. I felt a sudden, ridiculous urge to laugh, not because it was funny, but because of the sheer relief of it. He was just as caught up in this mess of emotions as I was. He wasn't some untouchable leader with a perfect plan; he was just a man who loved me and was terrified of losing me again.

I fought to keep my laughter under control, not wanting to ruin the moment or make him think I was mocking his confession. I slowly turned around in his arms, shifting until I was facing him directly. When I looked up at him, the sight of his face nearly broke my heart. All the exhaustion he had been hiding behind his Alpha mask was visible now.