Chapter 2

I wasn’t drunk. Not exactly. But the room was starting to tilt, and my limbs felt a little too loose for comfort. Okay, maybe I was a little drunk. Addy, of course, was thriving, her cheeks flushed with excitement as she flirted shamelessly with some sexy stranger by the champagne tower. She had approached him after telling me it had been too long since she'd gotten some action. I walked over to her, already starting to see things. And it didn't help that I could feel a certain pair of eyes on me throughout the night.

“Addy,” I said, tugging at her arm. “I’m calling it a night.”

“What? No!” she gasped, clutching her glass like it was a lifeline. “Layla, it’s barely midnight. Live a little!”

“Addy,” I repeated, slower this time. “I can’t feel my fucking face.”

“You’re fine,” she waved me off, her attention already back on Mr. Jawline. And seconds later, they were sucking each others tongues. I pulled her arm again, and all she said was, “Drink some water, and you’ll be fine.”

I rolled my eyes, knowing full well that “fine” was off the table. I was six martinis past functional, and the last thing I needed was to make a bigger spectacle of myself. Been there, done that . Plus I’d already gotten enough side-eyes from my mom’s friends to last a lifetime.

Muttering something about betrayal, I made my way through the crowd, aiming for my mother and her fiance Luke, who were standing near the grand staircase. My mother spotted me first, her smile freezing the moment she took in my state.

“Layla,” she said sharply, her voice low enough to keep up appearances but still dropping with judgment. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Not enough to make this party enjoyable,” I shot back, brushing aside her disapproving glare. “Relax, Mom. I’m heading home.”

“You can’t just leave,” she hissed. “Do you have any idea who’s here tonight? This is important for Luke and I. ”

“And yet somehow, I don’t care,” I interrupted, too tipsy and too tired to give a damn. “Goodnight.”

I turned to leave, but Luke’s voice stopped me. “Wait a second. Have you even met Adam yet?”

I froze. Adam. I’d forgotten all about him. Luke’s mysterious son, the golden boy who’d been conspicuously absent from the lovely family introductions so far.

“It’s late,” I said, forcing a breezy tone. “I’ll meet him some other time.”

But Luke was already scanning the room. “Adam!”

I closed my eyes, willing the ground to swallow me whole. There was no escape now. I didn't know this kid, but he was probably some proud rich kid used to flaunting daddy's cash.

I'd met the type countless times.

Several seconds passed by, then I heard him before I saw him. The faint creak of polished shoes on the marble floor. His presence seemed to suck the air out of the room, and before I even turned, I knew.

The scent hit me first, something woodsy and clean, with a hint of spice. It wrapped around me, pulling me back to the bar and to that stupid olive. Then came the sensation, an almost electric awareness that told me he was close. Too freaking close.

I opened my eyes and turned, my pulse stumbling as I found myself face-to-face with him. The arrogant stranger who was sex incarnate.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered.

There he was, standing tall and insufferable, his smirk firmly in place. “We meet again,” he said, his tone smooth and mocking.

“You two know each other?” Luke asked, looking between us with a hint of confusion.

“Not really,” Adam said, his eyes fixed on me. “But we’ve crossed paths.”

I wanted to snap something back, but my brain was foggy, and his presence was making it worse. It had been way too long since I got a good fucking, that's definitely why I got wet by just looking at him. His gaze raked over me, lingering just a second too long, and I felt heat creep up my neck. My mum told me to introduce myself and I sighed.

“ I'm Layla. ” I said tightly, refusing to let him see how affected I was by his presence.

“ So I've heard,” he replied, his smirk deepening.

Luke, oblivious to the tension, clapped Adam on the shoulder. “Well, now you’ve met Layla. She’s one of a kind.”

Adam’s eyes didn’t leave mine. “Oh, I’ve noticed.”

The jab was subtle, but it landed, and I clenched my fists to keep from responding. My mother, sensing the awkwardness, jumped in with a brittle laugh. “Well, isn’t this lovely? Now, Layla, don’t run off just yet—”

“Actually, I was just leaving,” I said quickly, my voice sharper than intended.

Adam tilted his head, clearly amused. “In a hurry?”

“Just tired,” I shot back, holding his gaze.

“I was planning on leaving as well,” he said, his voice casual, like this was some stroke of coincidence.

Luke’s face lit up, clearly pleased. “Perfect! You can give Layla a ride home.”

“No,” I blurted out, too fast, too loud. “That won’t be necessary.”

Adam tilted his head, his smirk just shy of a grin. “Why not? Seems practical.”

“I’m perfectly capable of getting myself home,” I said, crossing my arms even though it made me sway slightly. Damn martinis.

“Where do you live?” he asked, and I hesitated, not wanting to provide that information.

“She’s on Chelsea Street, downtown,” my mother chimed in, because of course she fucking did.

Adam’s brows lifted, his expression one of mock surprise. “Chelsea Street? That’s on my way.”

“Liar,” I muttered under my breath, because what exactly would a snob like him be doing on that side of town? But Luke didn’t seem to hear.

“See? It’s settled,” he said, clearly done with the matter.

“It’s not settled,” I countered, my irritation rising. “ Thanks, but I’ll manage.”

Adam didn’t look convinced. If anything, he looked entertained. “I’ll drop you off,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

I opened my mouth to protest, but my brain was foggy, and I was too drunk to argue. My mother’s sharp gaze pinned me in place, so I muttered a stiff, “Fine,” before turning toward her and Luke. “Goodnight.”

But there was no way I was letting him drive me anywhere.

“I need to go to the washroom first,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant.

“I’ll take you,” Adam said immediately.

I turned to him, incredulous. “You’ll what?”

“I’ll take you,” he repeated, and I couldn’t decide if he was serious or just trying to mess with me. Either way, I wasn’t amused.

“I think I can manage a trip to the washroom on my own.”

“You can barely stand straight,” he countered, his tone maddeningly reasonable.

Before I could argue, he took my arm, not hard, but firm enough that I couldn’t pull away without causing a scene. I glared up at him, but he just started walking, steering me through the crowd like this was the most natural thing in the world.

The short trip felt endless, the tension getting tighter with every step. His hand on my arm was warm, steady, and far too familiar for my liking.

When we reached the door, he stopped, finally letting go, but his gaze stayed locked on me. There was something unreadable in his eyes, something that made my stomach twist.

“Here we are,” he said, leaning slightly against the wall, still watching me like I was some kind of puzzle he wanted to figure out.

“Thanks for the escort,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

He didn’t move. “You’re welcome.”

I frowned, his steady gaze making me shift uncomfortably. “ Why the fuck do you keep looking at me like that?” I had to know.

“Just wondering if you always make things this difficult,” he answered, his tone laced with amusement.

“I’m not the one making this difficult,” I snapped, crossing my arms.

He smiled then, slow and deliberate, the kind of smile that made me want to slap it off his face....or maybe sit on it. I was a goner! “You sure about that?”

I hated how my pulse jumped. “Positive.”

His eyes lingered on mine for a moment longer, and then he stepped back, giving me just enough space to slip into the washroom. “I’ll be right here,” he said, his voice low enough that it followed me inside like a taunt.

Once the door closed behind me, I leaned against it, letting out a shaky breath. My skin was buzzing, my heart racing in a way that had nothing to do with the alcohol.

“Get it together,” I muttered, pulling my phone from my clutch. If he thought he was driving me home, he had another thing coming.

I opened the rideshare app, fumbling slightly, and ordered an Uber. Five minutes. That’s all I needed.

But as I glanced at my reflection in the mirror, the flush in my cheeks and the way my breath came just a little too fast, I couldn’t shake the feeling that five minutes might not be enough to get over whatever Adam Crest was pulling me into.