Silver(26)

“That seems like something that can be fixed over dinner,” he replied flatly. “Besides, I won’t do anything you don’t want me to. We can start as friends. As for the difference in our backgrounds, that doesn’t matter to me. What matters more is your values. You stand up for your friends. You’re honest. You work hard. What do I care about your past?” He looked her square in the eyes, sending a shiver down her back. “I want to be your future.”

Holy shit. Holy shit! Things like this didn’t happen.

But there was something so honest and genuine in his eyes. And life had been so ridiculously unfair against her up to this point. Why couldn’t it make sense to be ridiculously fair in her favor for a while?

She took a deep breath. “Okay. I’d like that.”

A small smile quirked the corner of his lips, and his eyes seemed to light up, telling her she’d made the right decision. “Good. After the last appointment tonight, I’ll pick you up at your room.”

“Okay,” she said nervously, getting in the car as he opened the door for her.

“What was that all about?” Robbie asked, leaning forward.

“I’ll tell you if you tell me why you were locked in a bathroom,” Adrien retorted.

And that was that.

But Kelsey couldn’t help being a little worried about the whole Robbie situation on the way back.

Hopefully, it wouldn’t come up again.





Ten





Adrien nervously waited in the hallway, checking his watch and wondering when Kelsey would be coming out.

He was determined not to screw things up tonight. Determined to be polite, caring.

All the things he’d never openly been before.

Yes, he’d been protective of his friends and the people in his village and circles. But that was different.

He had still been standoffish and surly, because he hadn’t particularly cared if anyone liked him.

Now he cared intensely, and he didn’t even have time to think about how weird it was that his mate was human, because he was too busy trying to win her for himself.

He stepped forward and rapped on the door lightly. “You okay in there?” He guessed she was probably getting ready, using the stuff in those bags she’d brought back from the shopping center.

“Yes,” she said in a muffled voice, as if she were changing.

He’d dressed a little differently for their date as well, in jeans and a nice tee shirt with a sharp blazer over the top. A mix of casual and tailored that he felt suited him nicely.

He tapped his designer shoe on the ground as he waited.

“Be out in a minute. Sorry,” she called.

He frowned. She apologized far too much. “It’s fine,” he said, his tone overly sharp. He took a deep breath, telling himself to relax. The more nervous he got, the more uncomfortable he was, the more he tended to put his foot in his mouth and say things he would regret.

He was pacing back and forth, muttering, when he heard her door click open. He whirled around to see her and had to fight letting his jaw drop when he did.

She looked beautiful.

Well, she always had. But now?

It wasn’t the clothes or the makeup or jewelry. It was the way she held her head up, the pride in her eyes, the way he could tell she felt beautiful, and that made all the difference.

“You look… Wow,” he said, hating he didn’t have better words or a mouth that was less dry with desire so he could say them.

She’d pulled her curls back from her face with a few pins, and with a bit of makeup darkening her lashes, her green eyes looked positively luminous.

She was wearing a black tunic, belted in the middle, emphasizing her feminine shape. She wore tight, dark jeans that hugged her legs almost obscenely and black boots with wedges that gave her a little bit of height.

She looked like a curvy little dream, and he wanted to just grab all of her, pull her in against him, and never let go.

He also wanted to drag her into her room, lock the door, and order in takeout so no one else saw his mate like this.

But that wouldn’t be fair, and he was positive no matter where they went, he’d be able to protect her.

He put out his arm for her to take it, and she glanced at it curiously, clutching a small purse in both hands.

“I want to escort you,” he said, wondering if men in this day and age had any manners at all. “Is this not how it is done?” Maybe he should have paid more attention to Citrine about modern women after all.

“I mean, it is,” she said hesitantly, flushing, taking his arm. “I guess it’s just… kind of old-fashioned.” She walked forward with him, keeping her head up. “I guess I have to get used to the fact that you’re a little bit old-school.”