Chapter 78 – Pleasing the Boss

I’m gentler when I step toward him. “Are you afraid it ruins what he had with your mother?”

“No. It’s. I…” He swallows, looking at his expensive shoes as he shakes his head. “I always thought he couldn’t. Couldn’t love anyone but her. Was incapable. But if he loves Giulia—” He turns his head in the direction of the yacht. “If he really does, then…”

“Then what?”

When he shifts his gaze back toward me, his exp**ssion is devastating. “Then why couldn’t he love me?”

“Oh, Hadrian.” My eyes prick with tears, and my ch*st tightens, but I know he isn’t looking for my pity right now. He already told me what he needs—me.

“Get in the car,” I tell him, a little surprised at my own boldness. “I’ll get in with you.”

He opens the door without hesitation, letting me get in first before sliding in next to me. “Where are we going?”

“I don’t know, but we’re not getting on that boat.” Tonight, Hadrian needs to be with someone who loves him.

Detrimental to my heart as it may be, I’m ready to admit to myself that’s me.

Brystin POV

“Confession…” I pause, wondering if I have the nerve to go big and talk emotions.

Nope. I’m chicken, and I choose something minorly embarrassing instead. “The night you took me to the roof of the Seymour Center was my first time ever at the top.”

Hadrian raises a stunned brow. “You’re kidding me.”

I shake my head, pulling my feet underneath me. We’re sitting together on Hadrian’s living room couch, the space bet**en us mere inches, and have been here like this for the better part of three hours. Just…talking.

Mostly mundane shit, at first. How he found his apartment and why he chose the art and furniture pieces that he did. I’d been in and out so fast last time that I hadn’t taken the time to notice. He has a very contemporary taste, and though he had a designer for Adeline, I see his influence on the country home now based on his choices for the three thousand square foot space here.

Then Hadrian introduced me to the best biryani delivery in the city, which he, of course, paired with a pinot noir that made the taste of the chicken and rice explode in my mouth.

After that, he gave me a very thorough, very sexy lesson on wine tasting, which loosened our t***ues a bit, and our conversation got a little more personal, but we’ve managed to sk**t the most meaningful topics.

Unlike other times we’ve talked, though, I don’t sense a wall bet**en us. The door is open wide in both directions, and I have little doubt that one of us will eventually cross the threshold, but I also don’t feel like there’s any rush. Just a summer storm of anticipation gathering in my belly, and each minute that passes by, I’m more and more excited for the rain.

“Okay, I have to hear how you have lived in the city for over ten years and yet managed to bypass one of the top five tourist attractions.” The hunger in Hadrian’s eyes isn’t just about lust. He’s eaten every word I’ve had to say with a voracious appetite, and I’m starting to think I’ve never had anyone truly desire me before now.

While I feel as greedy for him, it’s a transforming feeling to also be on the other side of it for once.

“Well, I told you I grew up in Missouri, and we never came to New York for vacation. Then when I moved out here for college, I was too broke to do the touristy shit.” I mean to leave it at that for a second, but then decide to tell him all of it. “Wait, that’s not exactly true. My mom and I came once when I was fifteen over summer break, and we saw some of the sights then.”

“Let me guess—you did the Empire instead.”

“No way. I was already in love with journalism so I insisted on coming to the Seymour Center. We had every intention of riding to the top, but my mother has a fear of small spaces. She knew what it meant to me, and she really wanted to try to ride the elevator. She stood in the line and made it for a decent while before she had a panic attack. Security came and they rushed an emergency team. It was so embarrassing, and in the end, we had to go back to the hotel.”

He grazes his knuckle against my bare shoulder, back and forth, sending goose pimples scattering down my arms. “Were you disappointed?”

I shrug. “We did the studio tour. That’s what I really cared about. I probably still have the scrapbook somewhere in our storage unit.”

Our.

It’s one of the few plural pronouns referring to me and Elvis that I’ve used tonight. I hold my breath, hoping it doesn’t kill the mood.

If Hadrian noticed, he doesn’t show it. “Let’s see…you were fifteen, and it was summer, so I was nineteen. I interned every break for my father starting at seventeen. I would have been in the building.”

“That’s…weird.” That I could have known him first. Before Elvis. But I don’t want to explain that’s where my head went. “Weird to think about. You know? That we were both there at the same time and didn’t know it.”

“Your mom could have left you with me.”

“Would we have made it up here or would you have had other plans for me?” I ask with intended innuendo.

“You were fifteen. That would have been illegal.” He can’t hide his smile.

“Other plans then.” I laugh. “I could have knocked out losing my virginity a whole year earlier.”

He shakes his head as if the thoughts going through his mind are too much to handle. “Let’s not even… You can’t fathom the ways I would have corrupted you.”

Another laugh. “I think I can, actually.”

My eyes lock on his, and although I love the carnal ideas I see there, I’m not ready to give up the intimacy we’re sharing in words.

Fortunately, it seems he isn’t either. “Was it just you and your mother by then?”

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