The Enemy Who Loves Me

Fiona's POV

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I'd be leaving now j said out loud as I attempted to get up and oh boy I started to fall but his strong arms grabbed me.

Adrian.

I knew I was drunk.

But I didn't care.

Not when his arms were warm around me, not when his voice felt like the only solid thing keeping me from drowning in my own loneliness.

"How are you going to get home?" Adrian asked, his brows knitting together as he studied me. "Do you have anyone I can call?"

I shook my head. "No one."

And just like that, the dam broke.

Tears spilled down my cheeks faster than I could stop them.

Adrian's expression shifted, his usual cool, unreadable demeanor cracking with something that almost looked like shock.

"What happened?" His voice was quieter now, less teasing.

"I'm alone." My voice wavered, raw with the pain I had been shoving down for years. "Why doesn't anyone want me?"

Adrian stilled.

Then, before I could process it, his arms wrapped around me—warm, steady, like he had no hesitation pulling a crying, drunken girl into his chest.

"Don't cry." His voice was soft, but firm.

I clung to him, my fingers gripping the fabric of his expensive shirt like it was the only thing tethering me to reality.

"Everyone around you must be stupid then," Adrian murmured, his breath warm against my ear. "Because I just saw you, and I want you."

My heart stopped.

I hiccupped. "Rea… really?"

He hummed in response, tilting my chin up with his fingers. His touch was gentle, yet it sent a shiver down my spine.

I stared at him, caught in the way the dim lights highlighted his sharp features—his stormy blue eyes, the way his jaw tensed like he was fighting something.

Before I could stop myself, I blurted, "You're so handsome."

The words hung between us.

For a second, neither of us moved.

Then realization hit me like a truck.

I just called Adrian Morreti handsome.

Out loud.

To his face.

Oh my God.

Adrian blinked once. Then again. And then—

A slow, amused smirk curled his lips.

Horrified, I grabbed my glass and took another desperate gulp of alcohol, as if that could somehow erase my own embarrassment.

"Let's go," Adrian said, standing up. His tone was unreadable, but there was something about the way he looked at me—like he was entertained. "I'll take you home."

Before I could protest, he bent down and lifted me into his arms, carrying me effortlessly in a princess style.

My breath hitched.

"What—put me down!" I protested weakly, but I didn't really mean it.

He ignored me, walking through the club like I weighed nothing.

Outside, his sleek black car was already waiting. Adrian set me down into the passenger seat before sliding in beside me.

"Sir, where are we dropping the miss?" the driver asked, curiosity laced in his tone.

Adrian glanced at me. "Where's your house?"

I hesitated. Then, quietly, I admitted, "I… I don't have one."

The car went silent.

Okay.

Where's my brain? I'm so drunk. Why did I get so nervous?

Somehow, in my drunken haze, I managed to mumble my new shabby address. Adrian didn't question it—he simply nodded and ordered the driver to take me there.

I sank deeper into the seat, my head spinning. Maybe from the alcohol. Maybe from the fact that I had just kissed Adrian Morreti and he kissed me back.

I groaned internally. What the hell was I thinking?

The car ride was quiet, but I could feel his gaze on me. I turned my head slightly, meeting his piercing blue eyes.

"What?" I asked, my voice slightly slurred.

Adrian smirked. "Nothing. You just look… easy to bully."

My cheeks burned. What does that even mean?!

I crossed my arms, pretending not to care, but the warmth on my lips still lingered.

Minutes later, the car slowed to a stop in front of my house.

Panic shot through me.

Shit. What if my fake parents saw me like this? I was barely keeping it together, and I definitely didn't have an explanation for coming home tipsy—carried by Adrian freaking Morreti, no less.

I fumbled with the door handle, eager to escape before I got caught. Adrian watched me with mild amusement but said nothing as I stumbled out.

But just as I reached my front door, I hesitated.

I turned back.

Adrian was still in the car, his elbow resting on the window frame, watching me like he was waiting for something.

Without thinking, I took a few steps back to the car, leaned into the open window, and before I could stop myself—

I pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

Adrian didn't move.

Didn't blink.

For the first time, I had caught him off guard.

"Thank you," I whispered, my voice barely audible.

Then, before I could see his reaction, I spun around and bolted inside, my heart hammering in my chest.

I didn't look back.

I couldn't.

Because if I did, I might never be able to forget the way Adrian Morreti looked at me tonight.