Chapter 34 34

Chapter 34 34
Karin's POV
Sometimes you just knew in your gut that you shouldn’t be doing something. The outcome was already written in the stars, and sometimes you should just be stronger and say no. But what if you couldn’t?

I couldn’t physically bring myself not to go tonight. The masochist in me wanted to see him. The same masochist wanted him to take me and throw me onto his fancy bed and fuck me till I forgot my own name. It had been a long and lonely week. But I had to stay strong tonight. If I caved in now, the last week would have been for nothing.

And I still stood by what I had said on Sunday. I was too good for him with the way he was at the moment, and I wouldn’t share, and money meant nothing to me at all.

He needed to step up or step away.

The security buzzer sounded, and my stomach danced in excitement. “Hello.”
“Uber Eats.” I heard his velvety voice.

I smiled broadly. “What have you got for me?”
“Italian sausage.”

“Hmm,” I teased. “Are you going to drug my sausage and take advantage of my body after I fall unconscious?”
“Undoubtedly.”

I smiled and pushed the button to let him up, and then I began to pace as I waved my arms around in the air.

Play it cool… play it cool… play it cool.

Knock, knock. I opened the door in a rush, and there he stood, gray shirt and black jeans… blazing blue eyes. A slow, sexy smile crossed his face. “Hello.”

“Hi,” I whispered as I stared at the beautiful specimen in front of me. I just wanted to throw myself at him, the pull to him unbearable.

He leaned down and kissed my cheek as he walked past me into my apartment.

“Are you ready?” he asked.
“Uh-huh.” I grabbed my purse and wrap.

His eyes dropped down my body in my black dress. “You look lovely.”
“Thanks,” I breathed.

“Let’s go.”

He held his arm out, and I linked mine with his.

We took the elevator in awkward silence. He was pensive, and I was nervous as all hell.

Playing cool, calm, and collected was terrifying, and I reminded myself not to drink too much tonight. We walked out the front of the building, and the limo was parked at the curb.

He opened the door, and I climbed in. Memories of the first time I had been in this back seat accosted me, and the phrase dirty ho rolled around in my head.

I slid in, and he got in beside me, and then he picked up my hand and took it in his and rested them on his lap. Okay… he was touchy. What did that mean?

I didn’t know what to say or where this sat in my playing‑hard‑to‑get act, but the warmth of his touch was so comforting that I let him. The limo drove through the city, and I stared out the window as a million thoughts ran through my head.

Tonight was important; we either had to come to some sort of understanding or cut our losses. We couldn’t keep fighting over nothing like we did.

The car came to a stop, and the driver opened the door. I climbed out, and Adrien took my hand and led me into a fancy restaurant, Lucino’s.

“Booking for Vale,” he said as he held my hand tightly in his.
“This way, sir.”

The waiter smiled as he led us through the restaurant to a cozy little table in the corner. He pulled out my chair, and I took a seat.

Adrien sat opposite me; the restaurant was dark, with candles flickering on the tables and fairy lights hanging from the ceiling. It was very romantic.

Don’t get excited. It was probably just a coincidence.

“Can I get you something to drink?” the waiter asked.
“Yes, we’ll have a bottle of S Salon please.” He closed the menu and handed it over.

I stared at him. Here we went again.

The waiter disappeared, and Adrien’s big blue eyes came to mine. He took my hand over the table again. “Hello.” He smiled softly, as if finally relaxing.

Drop arguing about the drinks. It didn’t fucking matter who ordered the drinks. “Hi.” I smiled.

He dusted his thumb over the back of my knuckles as his eyes searched mine. “How are you?”
“Good.”

Oh, his touch made me weak. I just wanted to blurt out that I was lying and that I had had a shit week and he was the king of Twatsville.

We stared at each other across the table. It was as if both of us didn’t want to speak in case we broke out into all‑out war.

“What’s this proposal, Adrien?”

He sat back, seemingly annoyed at my tone.

I gripped his hand. “And I’m not giving you attitude. I just want to know what you’re thinking,” I said softly. “Stop being on the defensive with me.”

He relaxed a little, and the waiter returned with the bottle of champagne and opened it. He poured a little into the champagne flute, and Adrien tasted it. “That’s fine.”

The waiter then filled our glasses and left us alone.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said last weekend.”
“And?”

He sipped his drink. “I canceled my massages this week.”

I smirked as my eyes held his; I stayed silent.

“The thing is with me…” His voice trailed off.

I waited for him to speak, and when he didn’t, I squeezed his hand in mine for reassurance.

“I’m married to my job, Rain.”

I frowned.

“When I said I wasn’t looking for a relationship, I didn’t mean…” He shrugged as if lost for words.
“You didn’t mean what?”

“I didn’t mean that I don’t want to see you. I meant that I am a workaholic, and I know that very few women can deal with how much I work.”

“Adrien, I don’t care about how hard you work. I just don’t want to be one of many.”

He frowned. “Meaning what?”

“I’m not wired for one‑night stands, Adrien. It’s not who I am. But I’m not looking for a deep and meaningful relationship either. You’ve misunderstood me.”

“What do you want, then?”

“I want to have a friendship with a man and know I’m the only person he’s sleeping with.”

He listened.

“And I most definitely don’t want to share you with a fucking masseuse.”

He rolled his eyes.

“And I don’t want you to roll your fucking eyes at me.”

He clenched his jaw, unimpressed. “Watch your tone,” he warned.

“See that?” I said.
“What?”

“This defensive shit. It has to stop between us. We can’t keep fighting over every little thing like we do.”

“You’re just as bad,” he fired back.

“I know, and I’m trying to stop it. Just now I held my tongue because you ordered my drink without asking what I wanted.”

“I’m used to being in control, Karin,” he snapped.
“So am I. That won’t change.”

His eyes searched mine, and he rearranged the napkin on his lap as if he was thinking.

“I’m not asking you to be my boyfriend, Adrien,” I whispered. “That’s not what this is about. We have a great sexual connection, and I want it. I felt like I had to have it… but I couldn’t, not if I knew you had it with other women. I needed to be the only one.”

“Fine, I won’t sleep with anyone else,” he snapped in exasperation.

“And?” I asked.

He rolled his eyes. “And you can order the fucking drinks.”