Chapter 85: Chapter 85

Aria’s POV

The drive home didn’t take long.

Neither of us talked much.

We didn’t need to.

The silence felt different now, comfortable. Every now and then I’d glance out the window and catch his reflection instead of mine, his head tipped back against the seat, one arm resting on the door, the faintest smile still lingering around his mouth.

He caught me looking just as I turned back towards the window. One eyebrow lifted almost lazily as the corner of his mouth twitched.

"What?"

I looked away before he could catch me smiling.

"Nothing."

“You were looking at me.”

“I was looking through the window.”

"There isn't a window on this side."

"There is if I decide there is."

He let out a quiet laugh and shook his head.

"That's not how windows work."

"It is in my reality."

The gates of the estate rolled open and the llimo glided up the long driveway before coming to a smooth stop in front of the mansion.

The driver was already climbing out by the time the limousine rolled to a stop. I reached for the handle at the same moment Adrien pushed open his own door, the cool evening air spilling into the car before either of us stepped outside.

The moment my feet touched the ground, he walked around the back of the car towards me.

One look at his face told me everything I needed to know.

"...Absolutely not."

He blinked at me with exaggerated innocence.

"What?"

"Don't do that." I pointed at him. "I know that face."

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You absolutely do.”

I took one step backwards and Adrien  took one forward, closing the gap.

“Adrien…”

He smiled.

Then, before I could escape, his hands landed on my waist.

I squealed.

“Adrien!”

He lifted me effortlessly off the ground.

“You’re impossible,” he declared, laughing.

"Adrien! I am not a handbag!"

“You weigh approximately nothing.”

"Put me down!"

I smacked his shoulder, which accomplished absolutely nothing.

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

"Adrien."

He carried me towards the front steps while I laughed so hard my stomach started hurting.

“I’m going to kick you.”

"You're making a very compelling argument from thirty centimetres above the ground."

I groaned dramatically and buried my face against his shoulder.

“You’re the worst.”

By the time we reached the top of the stairs I was laughing too much to keep arguing.

He finally gave in at the top of the steps, lowering me carefully until both my feet touched solid ground again.

I immediately smoothed down my shirt as though I'd maintained every ounce of dignity throughout the experience, then looked up at him with what I hoped was a deeply offended expression.

“You are unbelievable.”

“I know.”

He didn't sound remotely apologetic.

If anything, he looked far too pleased with himself.

He glanced down at the watch around his wrist before looking back at me.

"You've got fifteen minutes."

“Someone’s bossy.” I said folding my arms like a kid.

“I prefer efficient.”

I pointed a finger at him.

“If you’re late after rushing me…”

“I won’t be.”

“You better not.” I said, rolling my eyes.

He grinned.

“I’ll meet you downstairs.”

I shook my head, smiling despite myself, then headed for the staircase.

Warm water washed away the stress of the day.

I stayed under the shower longer than I meant to, letting the heat loosen the tension I’d been carrying since yesterday.

By the time I stepped back into my room, wrapped in a towel with steam following me into the hallway, my mood had softened into something lighter

I opened my wardrobe.

I wasn't exactly dressing for a gala.

I pulled on a fitted yellow tank top and a pair of light-wash denim jorts that stopped mid-thigh before wandering over to the mirror.

I dried my hair until it fell in soft waves around my shoulders, added a little lip gloss, a swipe of mascara, a pair of small gold hoops, then I stepped back.

Good enough.

I grabbed my phone, slid it into my pocket and headed downstairs two steps at a time.

Adrien was standing near the entrance talking quietly to one of the house staff.

He’d changed too.

He wore dark  jeans, a  crisp white linen shirt with the sleeves rolled to his forearms.

The top two buttons sat open, exposing his toned chest  and his hair still looked slightly damp, pushed back neatly except for one stubborn strand that had already escaped across his forehead.

He looked up to meet my gaze.

I smiled.

“Hi, pretty boy.”

He blinked.

Then the faintest flush crept across his cheeks.

“…Hi.”

I walked the rest of the way towards him.

“What?”

He rubbed the back of his neck.

“You…”

“What about me?”

“You look…”

His eyes travelled over me once before landing back on my face.

“…beautiful.”

A smile spread across my face before I could stop it.

“Thank you.”

I stepped closer onto my toes then pressed a quick kiss against his lips.

“There,” I said.

“That’s for apologising properly.”

He looked genuinely stunned.

“I think I just got rewarded.”

“You did.”

“I should apologise more often.”

I laughed.

Adrien held the front door open for me.

“Come on, the bowling arena won’t wait.”

I stepped outside beside him and the evening air wrapped around us as we walked down the steps together toward the waiting limo.

BOWLING ARENA

I tightened the laces on my bowling shoes and looked over at him.

"You're about to lose."

Adrien laughed. "I’m not."

"I beat you last time."

"You did not beat me last time."

I looked at him. "Adrien. I beat you by eight points."

"The lane was uneven."

"That's what I said last time and you told me that wasn't a real excuse.

He reached for the dark blue bowling ball beside him, weighing it once in his hand before rolling his shoulders.

"I was being kind to you, that was my mistake."

I picked up mine.

Adrien went first.

The ball cut straight down the lane.

Ten pins exploded backwards.

Strike.

He turned around with that expression — the one that had no business being as attractive as it was on a man who had just beaten me at something.

I stepped up to the lane and focused on the pins like my life depended on it.

I took a breath, swung my arm forward and released it.

The ball rolled cleanly down the centre.

One pin.

Two.

Five.

Then the last cluster collapsed together.

Strike.

I spun around, laughing now.

Adrien looked from the pins to me, then back to the lane.

"The lane's uneven."

I folded my arms.

"Interesting."

"It definitely wasn't doing that a minute ago."

My last throw sent the remaining pins crashing sideways.

The machine paused for a beat before flashing the final score across the screen.

I won.

Not by a little, either. By enough points that Adrien stood staring at the scoreboard as though it had personally betrayed him.

Adrien stared at the scoreboard for another second before slowly turning to look at me.

“Are you a monster?”

"I'm a natural talent," I said, flipping my hair in pride.

"That's the same thing in this context."

I laughed.

Adrien glanced towards the restaurant on the upper level overlooking the lanes before looking back at me.

"Okay..." He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. "As much as admitting defeat pains me..."

"It should."

"...I'm starving."

I laughed.

"Me too."

He nodded toward the staircase.

"How about we make the winner's celebration slightly fancier?"

I followed his gaze.

The restaurant upstairs overlooked the entire bowling alley, its warm lights glowing against the evening sky beyond the windows.

"You mean there?"

"Mhm."

I smiled.

"I'd love that."

"Good."

He reached for my hand almost absentmindedly, threading his fingers through mine as we headed toward the stairs together.

"I'll even let the champion choose dessert."

"I was already planning to."

Still laughing, we climbed the stairs together  and headed towards the restaurant.