chapter 3
1330 Words
Lena Hart
I knew Adrian Cross wasn’t the kind of man you ignored.
Didn’t mean I wasn’t going to try.
The last thing I needed was someone like him prying into my life, asking questions, noticing things. But he was making that damn near impossible. Every time I turned around, he was there—sitting at the bar, leaning against the doorframe, watching me like I was something worth figuring out.
And now?
Now, he wanted to take me on a date.
I nearly laughed when he asked.
“You’re joking,” I said flatly, tossing a rag over my shoulder.
Adrian leaned against the bar, looking entirely too at ease. “Not even a little.”
I sighed, shaking my head. “No.”
He raised a brow, like he hadn’t considered the possibility that I might actually refuse him. Men like him weren’t used to hearing ‘no.’
“Come on, Lena,” he drawled. “Dinner. Drinks. I promise not to bite.”
I huffed out a breath. “Still no.”
He smirked. “Scared?”
I shot him a look. “Of what? You?”
His smirk deepened. “Of what happens if you enjoy yourself.”
I rolled my eyes so hard they nearly fell out of my head. “God, you’re insufferable.”
“I’ve been called worse.”
I grabbed a bottle from the shelf and turned my back to him, effectively ending the conversation. If I ignored him long enough, maybe he’d let it go.
But Adrian Cross wasn’t the letting-go type.
I should have known.
---
It was just past midnight when I stepped out of the bar, shrugging into my hoodie. The night air was cool, crisp, a welcome relief after hours of sweating behind the bar.
I was halfway down the block when I saw him.
Leaning against a sleek black car, arms crossed, looking like he had all the time in the world.
My steps slowed. “You have got to be kidding me.”
Adrian grinned. “Took you long enough.”
I glared. “Why are you here?”
He pushed off the car, strolling toward me like this was normal. Like he hadn’t just been waiting for me like a damn stalker.
“You said no.”
I gave him a slow clap. “Wow. You can hear. Congratulations.”
He ignored that. “You didn’t say never.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but before I could, he moved.
Fast. Smooth. Effortless.
One second I was standing on the sidewalk, and the next, his hand was wrapped around my wrist, tugging me toward the car.
“Adrian—”
“Relax, Lena. It’s just dinner.”
I dug my heels in, but he was stronger. Of course, he was stronger.
“This is called kidnapping,” I huffed, trying to yank my arm back.
He laughed. The bastard actually laughed. “It’s called persuasion.”
“More like coercion.”
“Semantics.”
Before I could snap back, he opened the car door and gestured inside. “Get in.”
I folded my arms. “No.”
Adrian sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Lena.”
“Adrian.”
A slow, knowing smirk curved his lips. “I can throw you over my shoulder, you know.”
I sucked in a sharp breath, because the worst part was?
I believed him.
He took a step closer, and my pulse jumped. My body went rigid, every nerve on high alert.
Adrian leaned in, voice low and smooth. Dangerous. “Let me take you to dinner, Lena.”
My throat went dry.
I hated this. Hated that he made my pulse stutter. Hated that he made heat crawl up my spine.
But more than anything?
I hated that I wanted to say yes.
So, I did the next best thing.
I scowled. “Fine.”
Adrian grinned like he had just won a game I didn’t even know I was playing.
And as I slid into the passenger seat, I realized something else.
He wasn’t just trying to take me to dinner.
He was trying to get under my skin.
And worse?
It was working
I should have jumped out of the car.
I should have made up some excuse, faked an emergency, done something to stop this from happening.
But instead, I sat stiffly in the passenger seat, arms crossed, glaring out the window like that would somehow make Adrian disappear.
“Relax,” he said, amused.
I didn’t.
Instead, I shot him a look. “You do realize dragging someone to dinner against their will is not normal, right?”
He chuckled, completely unfazed. “You’re here, aren’t you?”
“Against my will.”
He smirked. “That’s what they all say in the beginning.”
I rolled my eyes so hard I practically saw the back of my skull.
The city lights blurred past as he drove, one hand on the wheel, the other tapping idly against his thigh. Everything about him was so unbothered, like he was exactly where he was meant to be.
Like I was exactly where I was meant to be.
The thought made something tighten in my chest.
I turned away, staring at the neon signs flickering through the window. “Where are we going?”
“Somewhere you’ll like.”
I frowned. “You don’t even know me.”
He glanced at me, eyes dark with something unreadable. “Not yet.”
I exhaled sharply, pressing my fingers against my temples. “You are exhausting.”
Another smirk. “And yet, here you are.”
I hated that he had a point.
A few minutes later, the car slowed in front of a quiet, dimly lit restaurant. Not the fancy, pretentious kind I had expected, but something smaller, more intimate.
I blinked. “This is… not what I thought.”
Adrian parked, cutting the engine. “Let me guess. You thought I’d take you to some overpriced place with white tablecloths and too many forks?”
“…Yes.”
He grinned. “I could’ve. But that wouldn’t impress you.”
I swallowed, because damn it, he wasn’t wrong.
Adrian opened his door, then walked around to mine, pulling it open before I could protest.
“Come on, Hart.”
I hesitated, debating if I could still make a run for it. But then I sighed, unbuckled, and stepped out.
The restaurant was warm and inviting, with low lighting and the smell of something rich and savory in the air. A waitress greeted Adrian with a smile—a knowing smile—before leading us to a small booth near the back.
He waited for me to sit before sliding in across from me, completely at ease.
I, on the other hand, was not.
I tapped my fingers against the table. “So, do you do this often?”
He tilted his head. “Drag women to dinner?”
“Yes.”
A slow smirk. “Only the interesting ones.”
I groaned. “God, you are so—”
“Charming? Attractive? Impossible to resist?”
I grabbed the menu and held it up in front of my face. If I couldn’t see him, he couldn’t get under my skin.
Right?
He laughed under his breath, clearly enjoying himself. “You know, I could make this easy for you.”
I lowered the menu just enough to glare at him. “Oh, really?”
He leaned forward, voice smooth and teasing. “All you have to do is admit you’re enjoying yourself.”
I scoffed. Absolutely not.
I lifted the menu again, ignoring the way my pulse had started to betray me.
I wasn’t enjoying this. I couldn’t be.
Because Adrian Cross?
He was exactly the kind of trouble I couldn’t afford.
And the worst part?
I wasn’t sure if I wanted to avoid it—or let it pull me under.
- Writer
