Chapter 16 Temptation
Neither of them noticed how fast the night was moving. The room had grown warmer, their voices louder, and the space between them smaller without either of them planning it. The bottle that had seemed more than enough when Julian first placed it on the table was now sitting almost empty between them. Adeline was in the middle of explaining a strange story about a failed business dinner from years ago when Julian reached for the bottle to refill his glass.
He tilted it over his cup and waited, but nothing came out.
He frowned slightly and shook the bottle once, then twice, before lifting it up to eye level. “Well,” he said slowly, turning the bottle toward her, “that’s tragic.”
Adeline blinked at him, her movements slower than usual. “What?”
“We’ve officially run out.”
She stared at the bottle like it had personally betrayed her. “That’s impossible.”
He laughed under his breath. “We’ve been at this for over an hour.”
“Two,” she corrected, though she had no proof of that.
Julian leaned back into the couch and rubbed a hand over his face. “I should’ve brought more than one bottle,” he said. “I didn’t think I’d be having this much fun.”
Adeline narrowed her eyes slightly, though her expression lacked its usual sharp edge. “What is that supposed to mean?”
He looked at her, confused. “What?”
“That you didn’t think you’d have fun,” she said. “Are you trying to call me boring?”
Julian let out a soft laugh, the sound low and warm. “You? Boring? That would be the last word I’d use.”
“Then explain yourself,” she demanded, though her tone was unsteady.
He shifted slightly so he was facing her more directly. “I’m just surprised,” he admitted. “We’ve been talking about the most random things for over an hour and somehow haven’t run out of things to say.”
Adeline placed her empty glass down on the table with more force than necessary, though it still wasn’t very strong. “So you’re impressed.”
“Believe it or not, I am,” he said simply.
She studied him for a moment, her thoughts slower now, softer around the edges. The alcohol had taken the edge off her usual control, and she felt lighter and less guarded. That alone should have worried her.
Instead, she found it freeing.
She turned her body fully toward him, tucking one leg beneath her on the couch. “Alright,” she said after a short pause. “What now?”
Julian lifted a brow. “What do you mean?”
“It’s almost eleven,” she said, glancing toward the clock on the wall. “And with how much you’ve had to drink, you’re not driving anywhere tonight.”
He followed her gaze to the clock and gave a slow nod. “Fair point.”
“So?” she pressed. “What’s your plan?”
Julian pretended to think, placing a finger lightly against his chin in an exaggerated gesture. “Well,” he said slowly, “I could sleep on the couch.”
Her eyes flicked to the couch beneath them. “It’s comfortable enough,” he continued. “I’ll be out of your way by morning.”
She held his gaze, waiting. “Or?”
His mouth curved slightly. “Or,” he said, his tone dropping just a little, “we could do something far more interesting.”
She knew that look. It was the same look he had given her before, the night everything between them first shifted from tension to something else entirely.
Still, she feigned innocence. “Interesting how?”
Julian did not answer right away. Instead, he leaned closer, closing the small distance between them. The movement was slow, giving her every chance to pull away if she wanted to, but she didn’t.
“There’s something,” he said quietly, “that I’ve been wanting to do again.”
Her heart beat a little faster, though she kept her face steady. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”
His eyes dropped briefly to her lips before returning to her gaze. “You know exactly what I mean.”
She swallowed lightly but forced a careless shrug. “Maybe I don’t.”
He smiled faintly at that, clearly aware she was pretending. “Adeline.”
The way he said her name felt different now. Less teasing and more certain. She liked it a little too much. She could feel the warmth from him even without touching, and the alcohol made everything sharper and softer at the same time. Her thoughts were slower, but her senses were awake.
“You’re tipsy,” she said, as if that would somehow end the conversation.
“So are you,” he replied calmly.
“That’s not a good excuse.”
“It’s not an excuse,” he said. “It’s an observation.”
She tried to hold onto her logic, but it felt slippery. The night had started with simple conversation, with whiskey and random facts and laughter she hadn’t expected. Somewhere along the way, the air had shifted.
Her pride whispered that this was a bad idea, but her body did not agree.
Julian lifted his hand slowly, giving her enough time to stop him, and brushed a loose strand of hair away from her face. The touch was light and careful.
“You asked me to come,” he reminded her quietly.
She held his gaze. “I asked you to keep me company.”
“And I am,” he said. “Very willingly.”
The space between them was almost gone now. She could see the faint cut on his lip more clearly, the slight swelling that still hadn’t fully settled. Without thinking, she reached up and touched just below it, her fingers barely grazing his skin.
“Does it still hurt?” she asked softly.
“Not right now,” he answered.
The honesty in his voice made her breath hitch slightly.
She knew what he was offering. It wasn’t just physical. It was a distraction, an escape, and a way to forget everything else waiting outside this house.
“Julian,” she began, though she wasn’t sure what she meant to say.
He didn’t rush her. He simply waited, close enough that she could feel the steady rhythm of his breathing.
“You said something interesting,” she murmured.
“Oh?”
“That you’ve been wanting to do it again.”
His eyes darkened slightly. “I have.”
She hesitated only a second longer. Then she closed the remaining distance herself. Her lips brushed his gently at first, testing at first, and giving him room to pull away.
He didn’t. His hand came up to rest at her waist, steady but not demanding. The kiss deepened slowly, naturally, like it had been waiting all night.
For a moment, there were no fathers, no brothers, no companies, and no plans. Just warmth and closeness and the sound of two unsteady breaths mixing in the quiet room.
When they finally pulled back slightly, Julian rested his forehead lightly against hers. “I’m guessing the couch is no longer my only option,” he said softly.
She let out a faint breath that might have been a laugh. “It was never an option.”