ADRIAN'S POV
The crystal glass of scotch in my hand was sweating. The ice already melted. But I could not bring myself to set it down.
I needed something to anchor my grip. If I let go of the glass, I knew exactly where my hands would end up.
I hated every single second of this night. I hated the polite noise of this hall. I hated the tailored suit that felt like a straightjacket across my shoulders. But more than anything, I hated myself for agreeing to this brutal plan.
When Ronan and I sat in my office and decided the only way to protect Nirvana was to freeze her out, it sounded completely logical. We were dangerous men running a motorcycle club, and the closer we kept her, the larger the target on her back became.
Pushing her away was supposed to be the ultimate act of protection
