Chocolate Cosmos

Chapter Two

The suite is massive, and I can’t help but gape as Ryan leads me through it, gesturing animatedly to various features.

“This is the living room,” he says, his easy grin lighting up his face. “Not much to explain here—couch, coffee table, TV—basic stuff. But the view?” He motions toward the large windows. “That’s what makes it worth it. It’s killer during sunrise.”

I follow his gesture, my eyes widening as I take in the glittering lights of the town below, stretching out endlessly. “Wow,” I breathe.

Ryan chuckles. “Yeah, it’s nice, huh? Makes you feel like you’re on top of the world.”

I nod, taking it all in. The space is luxurious yet understated, with warm lighting, sleek furniture, and an air of understated elegance. “I think I could get used to this,” I say with a small laugh.

Ryan smirks. “Don’t get too comfortable. Adrian might start charging you rent.”

I roll my eyes but smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He leads me down a hallway, pointing out doors as we go. “That’s your room. Got a private bathroom and everything. And that one’s Adrian’s—try not to wander in there by mistake. He’s not exactly the forgiving type.”

I frown. “Good to know.”

Ryan stops outside the kitchen, leaning casually against the counter. “So, here’s the deal: Adrian’s not the most... approachable guy. But don’t let him scare you off. He’s all bark, no bite. Well, most of the time.

I raise an eyebrow. “Reassuring.”

Ryan laughs,his eyes sparkling. “Hey, I’m just saying—don’t take it personally if he’s a little cold. He’s been through some stuff.”

“Who hasn’t?” I mutter under my breath.

Ryan gives me a knowing look. “Fair point. Anyway, I should get going. Try not to let him intimidate you.”

I smirk. “Thanks for the pep talk, Coach.”

Ryan grins, ruffling my hair playfully before heading for the door. “Good luck, Leah. You’ll need it.”

As the door clicks shut behind him, the suite suddenly feels much quieter, the earlier warmth replaced by an almost oppressive silence. I linger in the living room for a moment before retreating to my room.

---

The bathroom is a sanctuary of marble and soft lighting, the kind of place that seems designed for luxury. I turn on the shower, letting the steam fill the room as I strip out of my clothes. The events of the day play on a loop in my mind, each memory more painful than the last.

Stepping under the hot water, I close my eyes, the heat loosening tense muscles. But it does little to ease the knot in my chest. Ivy’s betrayal is too fresh a wound, the sting of it refusing to fade. I replay the scene in my head—the stolen manuscript, the cruel words, the smug look on Ivy’s face—and my fists clench involuntarily.

“You’re better than this,” I whisper, my voice barely audible over the water. “Don’t let her win.”

But as much as I try to steel myself, the weight of it all threatens to pull me under. I stay in the shower longer than necessary, hoping the water might wash away more than just the day’s grime.

---

I step out of the bathroom, wrapping the robe snugly around me. The soft fabric brushes against my damp skin, and I exhale slowly, the scent of pine in the air grounding me for a moment. For all the chaos of the day, this suite is serene, quiet—too quiet. My mind still churns, replaying everything like a bad movie I can’t turn off.

I glance at my reflection in the dresser mirror. My hair clings to my face in damp curls, and I tighten the robe’s sash with a sigh. From my bag, I pull out the silk pajamas I packed—a wine-red set that’s more suggestive than practical. I didn’t think I’d end up in a situation where I’d have to wear these in front of... strangers.

The fabric glides over my skin as I slip them on, and I catch my reflection again. Thin straps leave my shoulders bare, and the material hugs my curves. I frown. “Perfect,” I mutter to myself. “Exactly the look I need—sexy and emotionally fragile.”

Shaking my head, I pull my hair into a loose ponytail and leave the room. The silence presses down on me. I don’t want to sit alone in that massive bedroom, not with my thoughts threatening to take over.

I pad softly down the hallway, barefoot on the plush carpet. The suite feels expansive, almost too big for comfort, and when I step into the living room, I pause. It’s empty.

“Of course,” I mutter, deflating slightly. Maybe I was hoping for company.

“Looking for someone?”

I jump at the voice and whip around, my pulse skipping a beat. Adrian leans casually against the doorway to the balcony, holding a glass of whiskey. The dim light casts shadows across his sharp features, his untamed hair slightly disheveled. The top buttons of his shirt are undone, his sleeves rolled up, exposing strong, toned forearms. The sight of him is a punch to my already frayed nerves.

I square my shoulders, refusing to let him see how startled I am. “No,” I say, lifting my chin. “Just couldn’t sleep.”

He smirks, the kind of smirk that could make someone forget their own name. “Couldn’t sleep,” he repeats, his voice low and smooth, “or didn’t want to be alone?”

I cross my arms, determined to hold my ground. “Maybe both. Why? Planning to charge me for stepping out here?”

Adrian pushes off the doorway, his movements slow and deliberate. He’s graceful, predatory in the way he carries himself, and my pulse quickens as he stops a few feet away. His eyes—intense and piercing—hold mine for a moment before flicking briefly to my pajamas.

“Interesting choice,” he murmurs, the corner of his mouth tilting up.

Heat rises to my cheeks, and I narrow my eyes at him. “It’s just what I packed,” I snap. “I wasn’t expecting an audience.”

His gaze locks onto mine again, and the way he looks at me sends a shiver down my spine. “Good,” he says, his voice quieter now, almost teasing. “Because if you were trying, it’s working.”

I blink, thrown off by the unexpected compliment—or was it a challenge? My words falter, and my heart pounds in my chest as I struggle to come up with a retort.

He smirks, clearly enjoying my discomfort. “You look like you want to say something.”

I force myself to shake off the spell he’s casting. “You’re insufferable,” I shoot back, narrowing my eyes at him.

He chuckles, the sound low and rich, like a vibration I feel in my chest. “And yet, here you are, standing in front of me.”

I huff, brushing past him to plop down on the couch. “Maybe I just don’t feel like being alone.”

He follows, sitting across from me, one arm draped over the back of his chair, whiskey glass balanced in his other hand. “You don’t strike me as someone who’s afraid of the dark,” he says, tilting his head slightly.

“I’m not,” I reply with a small smirk. “But I do prefer company that doesn’t feel like they’re psychoanalyzing me.”

He lets out a soft laugh, swirling his drink lazily. “Fair enough. But you’re not exactly easy to figure out, Leah.”

“Good,” I say, leaning back against the couch. “I’d hate to be predictable.”

Adrian studies me for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he smirks again. “You’re anything but.”

The tension between us shifts, growing lighter, less suffocating. I let myself relax against the cushions, stealing glances at him as he sips his drink. His presence is still overwhelming, but now it feels less like a threat and more like... a puzzle.

“You’re not so bad,” I say after a moment, my voice teasing.

He raises an eyebrow. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Don’t,” I reply quickly, grinning.

He laughs, and for the first time, it feels real—like the cold mask he wears is cracking, just a little. The sound is warm, unexpected, and I can’t help but smile in return.

As we drift into easier conversation, I realize something unsettling: Adrian is dangerous, not just in the obvious ways, but in how easily he’s pulling me in. And worse? I don’t entirely mind.