Falling for the Goddess

Sleeping in the Same Bed

After grandma left, Adrian Blake prepared to head to work.

"Young Master, should I tidy up your room and the Young Mistress' room now?" Aunt Miller called out just as Adrian Blake was about to leave.

He paused for a few seconds before replying, “Yes,” and then walked out the door without looking back.

Sara Hart pressed her lips together, feeling a little disappointed.

"Shall we go upstairs and take a look at the room? Maybe we can arrange things a bit," Aunt Miller suggested.

Sara Hart snapped out of her thoughts and smiled. "Sure."

This villa had been prepared by Grandma Blake as their marital home, and the interior design had been chosen a while ago. It featured warm tones of wood and white, giving the house a cozy, welcoming feeling when sunlight streamed in.

The master bedroom was located on the second floor, to the right of the staircase, and was also designed with warm colors.

Aunt Miller led Sara Hart inside. "The Old Madam had your clothes put away in the walk-in closet."

She opened the door to the closet, revealing clothes, bags, and shoes neatly organized by category.

"The Old Madam said you prefer understated things, so all the clothes are suitable for everyday wear, like for school."

Sara Hart looked closely and saw that, although the clothes were all designer brands, they were simple and practical - perfect for her daily routine. Warmth filled her heart. "Grandma really thought of everything."

Aunt Miller glanced around the room, noting that everything seemed to be in order. The couch had been removed, leaving an empty space in the center of the room.

Sara Hart stared at the empty spot, feeling a little unsure.

Aunt Miller seemed to read her thoughts and smiled warmly. "The Young Master may seem cold and distant, but deep down, he has a warm heart. If you show him sincerity, he’ll return it. Sometimes, it’s okay for you to take the initiative, Young Mistress. He won’t reject you."

Sara Hart nodded, understanding but still unsure.

Aunt Miller patted her hand. "I’ll go downstairs to prepare lunch. You can take your time and see if anything else needs to be done."

"Okay."

After Aunt Miller left, Sara Hart took a moment to look around the room. Everything was in place, but the reality of living with Adrian Blake made her feel a bit nervous.

She had once thought that just being close to him would be enough. Then, she’d wished for him to at least know of her existence. But now, she was starting to want more—maybe too much.

Sara Hart took a deep breath. The two-year timeline she had set for herself had only just begun. There was still time. Perhaps Aunt Miller was right—she should take the initiative.

For dinner, Sara Hart helped Aunt Miller in the kitchen. She wasn’t much of a cook, so she busied herself washing vegetables, handing over plates, and assisting however she could.

"Young Mistress, you should go rest. The kitchen is full of smoke and oil," Aunt Miller said gently.

"It’s fine. I’ll stay here with you." Sara Hart smiled, standing her ground. She didn’t have much to do in the villa since she hadn’t brought her laptop or any personal items. Truthfully, she was a bit bored.

Seeing Sara Hart’s insistence, Aunt Miller didn’t press the matter. She had grown fond of the young woman—Sara Hart was polite, considerate, and never treated the staff with any arrogance. Aunt Miller felt the urge to help her however she could.

"The Young Master prefers lighter meals and doesn’t like overly spicy or greasy food. When he was a child, he once choked on a fish bone, so he doesn’t eat fish anymore."

Sara Hart nodded, committing the information to memory.

"The Old Madam mentioned that you’re from Jiang City, so I made some Longjing shrimp and sweet lotus root for you. Let me know how it tastes."

"Thank you, Aunt Miller," Sara Hart replied, her smile soft. There was something so comforting and warm about the way both Aunt Miller and Grandma Blake treated her. It made her feel at home.

As it approached 6:30, Sara Hart kept glancing at the door, wondering if Adrian Blake would come home for dinner.

Aunt Miller, noticing her distraction, set the dishes on the table and casually remarked, "The Old Madam mentioned it earlier—today’s your first day in the villa. The Young Master will be home for dinner."

Caught off guard, Sara Hart’s face flushed with embarrassment.

And sure enough, a few moments later, the sound of a car pulling up outside reached them—Adrian Blake was home.

He stepped inside, dressed in a crisp white shirt tucked into black trousers. His clean, refined look gave him an air of distant elegance. He carried his laptop in one hand.

It wasn’t the outfit he’d worn that morning, so he must have gone back to his place to change.

Seeing him return, Aunt Miller quickly called out, "Young Master, you’re back! Go wash your hands and have dinner."

Adrian Blake nodded at her, then went upstairs to put away his things before coming back down to wash up for dinner.

At the dining table, it was just Sara Hart and Adrian Blake. Although Aunt Miller had been with the Blake family for many years and was practically family, she understood the boundaries well. After setting the table, she left the room to give the two of them privacy.

The dining room was quiet, with only the faint clinking of porcelain bowls breaking the silence.

Adrian Blake’s table manners were impeccable—every movement graceful and deliberate, as if he were performing an art form. Sara Hart quietly ate her food, observing him out of the corner of her eye. She tried to note which dishes he picked up more often, hoping to figure out what he liked.

Adrian Blake wasn’t one for small talk, and Sara Hart didn’t want to force a conversation. Just being able to share a meal with him, to watch his subtle expressions and gestures, was enough for her—a dream that had once felt impossibly out of reach.

These peaceful, everyday moments, no matter how small, were precious to her. She didn’t want to ruin the atmosphere.

After dinner, Adrian Blake grabbed his laptop and retreated to the study to continue working.

Not a single word had passed between him and Sara Hart the entire evening.

Aunt Miller, who had been watching from the sidelines, couldn’t help but feel anxious. The Young Mistress was lovely in every way, but perhaps she was too shy. This was the perfect opportunity for her to be more proactive!

When Adrian Blake left the room, Aunt Miller walked over to Sara Hart and gently advised, "Young Mistress, the Young Master may be quiet and reserved, but he’s polite. If you talk to him, he’ll answer. Don’t be afraid."

Sara Hart realized Aunt Miller had misunderstood her hesitation, but she didn’t want to explain that she wasn’t afraid of him. In truth, she had simply cherished their first dinner together as something special. Instead, she smiled and accepted Aunt Miller’s advice. "Thank you, Aunt Miller. I’ll keep that in mind."

"Go on, then. Talk to him tonight," Aunt Miller encouraged.

"Alright."

When Sara Hart returned to the bedroom, Adrian Blake was still in the study.

She looked over the sleepwear in the closet, noticing that it was all various styles of elegant, seductive nightgowns. Clearly, Grandma Blake had intended for these to serve a purpose, but for now, they felt a little premature.

Sara Hart picked the most modest option before heading to the bathroom to wash up. As she dried her hair and finished her routine, she decided she would need to bring more of her own clothes from school soon.

Living alone had always made her feel at ease, but now, with Adrian Blake sharing the space, she couldn’t help but feel on edge.

Just as she was stepping out of the bathroom, Adrian Blake entered the room. She froze, her face heating up. “You… you’re done working?”

“Mm.” Adrian Blake noticed what she was holding, but he didn’t linger on it. He simply grabbed a set of clothes from the wardrobe and headed into the bathroom.

Sara Hart let out a quiet sigh of relief and quickly went to hang up her clothes to dry. Her mind raced with embarrassment—how had things gotten so awkward on the very first day?

The room felt oddly empty without the couch or the extra furniture. Only the large bed remained in the center, and Sara Hart found herself standing there, unsure of what to do. Would it seem too forward if she just lay down now?

While she was caught up in her own thoughts, Adrian Blake returned from the bathroom, dressed in dark sleepwear. The collar of his shirt was slightly open, revealing the sharp lines of his collarbone. His half-dried hair gave him an effortlessly alluring look, yet his expression remained distant and indifferent.

He walked past Sara Hart without a word, going to the wardrobe to grab a blanket.

Grandma Blake might have arranged for them to share a room, even a bed, but there were limits to how far things could be pushed.

Adrian Blake’s actions didn’t surprise Sara Hart, but that didn’t make the distance between them hurt any less.

As Adrian Blake set up his makeshift bed, Sara Hart hesitated before speaking. “I need to go to school tomorrow. Can you drive me part of the way? Just to the road outside. It’s hard to catch a taxi from here.”

She spoke quickly, worried that he might find it too much trouble.

“Eight o’clock,” he replied.

“Hm?”

“Leave at eight sharp.”

“Okay.” Sara Hart’s lips curled into a small smile as she climbed into bed, carefully taking the side farthest from him.

The bed was large—two meters wide—and though they each had their own blankets, it felt like an ocean stretched between them.

Sara Hart reached over to turn off the light. As darkness fell, the silence in the room became even more pronounced.

She could hear her own breathing and wondered if Adrian Blake could hear her racing heartbeat. She held her breath, trying to stay as still as possible.

After what felt like an eternity, she heard Adrian Blake’s soft, steady breathing. Relieved that he had fallen asleep, she carefully turned over, trying to ease the stiffness in her legs. The faint rustle of fabric as she moved sounded deafening in the quiet room.

As the minutes ticked by, Adrian Blake remained still, his breathing even and rhythmic. But after a long while, he slowly opened his eyes, wide awake.