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“Sorry,” he eventually said, amusement tilting his deep voice. “I didn’t hear him come out over the deafening sound of all the chemistry we don’t have.”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. Ever. The sky is blue, the grass is green, and I, Ria Sanchez, am never going to be tempted to go anywhere near your lap.” “Except the sky famously turns a mixture of orange, pink, and purple at sunrise and sunset, and gray when it’s cloudy.” He looked incredibly pleased with himself. “And grass withers to brown in the winter.”
“But you are also aggravatingly, inconveniently… maddeningly beautiful, Ariana.”
“I’d have recognized you from a mile away. And I did, every time I caught
a glimpse of you in the office. You’re impossible to miss.”
“You’re so fucking pretty it’s annoying,” he chided, his voice dropping to a low, molten gravel. “I hate how much I love looking at you. I hate it, Sanchez. And I can’t tell what I’m more angry about anymore, all the bullshit you put me through, or the fact that your lips are so fucking plump and pink.”
“Look at how pretty you are when you blush,” he murmured approvingly. “I never
stood a fucking chance. It really is too bad that we don’t have any… chemistry.”
Be careful who you fuck with, Lucifer.
“I like looking at you. So much so that I actually hate it. You’re very pretty. It’s beyond outrageous.”
“Adrien, we despise each other,” I reminded him. “Right.” He paused again, this time to wet his lips and clear his throat. “Except for the part where I don’t actually despise you.”
Time stood still for exactly one heartbeat. And then his hands were on me, and the world went up in flames.
“You’re in my head, you’re under my skin, you’re fucking everywhere, Ria. I can’t think properly when you’re around, and I can’t trust that I’m not misreading the signs.”
“You are aggravatingly, inconveniently… maddeningly beautiful, Ria.”
“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, leaning down to suckle on my bottom lip. “How is it fair? How was I supposed to stand a chance?”
“Every single thought that runs through my head seems to loop back to you. I can't get it to fucking stop, Ria. And the worst part is, I don't want to.
“I want you. And the more I deny it, the worse it gets. I want to spoil you fucking rotten, Ria. I've become obsessed with the idea. I want to buy you pretty things, fuck you, praise you, play with you. I want to
take you out on dates, I want to tell people you're mine for real. And you know what's fucked up? I've started to fucking fantasize about cuddling you. Literally just holding you in my arms all night. No fighting, no bickering. Is that enough for you, Sanchez? Or do you still need more of me?”
Holy shit, Adrien Cloutier was waiting out on the street for me like one of those cheesy (but amazing) 90’s romcom dudes. But so much better. Because it was Adrien.
