Chapter 5

ADAM'S POV

The first time I'd seen her, she'd been screaming and shouting. Wrecking havoc over the entire place. Finally, after all these years, she was in front of me again....

This female enigma that had trapped me since the second I laid my eyes on her for the first time all those years ago. Blonde wavy hair, eyes so blue they pulled me in, and a personality that seemed to have only gotten crazier over the years.

She clearly didn't remember me, which I'd expected, but there was no chance of me ever forgetting her.

The moment she stepped outside, looking every bit the disaster she likely felt, I froze. My grip tightened on the steering wheel as I watched her from across the street, those ridiculous sunglasses perched on her nose, her hair a messy halo around her head. She was chaos wrapped in fire, and every bit as impossible to ignore as she’d been that first time I saw her.

Even back then, I had always expected her to be… this. A storm in human form. Wild, unpredictable, and unrelenting. She was everything like I’d expected, and so much more.

Now, watching her march down the sidewalk in that—what even was she wearing? That skirt was barely holding on, and the top… Jesus. It was infuriating, distracting, and completely unacceptable.

And yet, I couldn’t look away.

When she gave me the finger earlier, I’d almost laughed. Almost. But as she walked off, something shifted. I couldn’t let her go like this—not just because she was possibly going to attract the wrong kind of attention to herself, but because... I just couldn’t.

The click of her heels on the pavement snapped me out of it. I was following her before I even realized I’d moved.

She didn’t notice me until I grabbed her arm.

“What the—” she started, spinning around to face me. Her eyes, wide with surprise, quickly narrowed into slits. “Are you serious right now? Let me go, you psychopath!”

Her voice was sharp, biting, but I barely heard her. The faint scent of her shampoo, something sweet, maybe citrus, hit me as she struggled in my grasp, and it was all I could do to keep my composure.

“Not happening,” I said, my tone even, unaffected.

Her free hand came up, shoving at my chest. “ Oh my God! You’ve lost your damn mind!”

I didn’t respond. Instead, I shifted my grip, catching her around the waist before hoisting her up and over my shoulder.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” she yelled, her fists pounding against my back as I started back toward my car. “Put me down, you overgrown lunatic!”

“Keep shouting,” I said dryly. “I’m sure the entire block will appreciate the show.”

She let out a string of curses that would’ve made a sailor proud, her legs kicking wildly in the air. “I swear to God, Adam, if you don’t put me down right now—”

“You’ll what?” I asked, glancing down at her as I reached the car. She was writhing like a wildcat, her hair falling into her face as she glared up at me with pure, unfiltered rage.

I smirked. “You’re so sexy when you’re angry, you know that?”

Her response was another string of profanities, louder this time, as I opened the car door and deposited her into the passenger seat.

She immediately reached for the door handle, but I was faster, slamming it shut and leaning in close. “Don’t even think about it.”

Her eyes burned into mine, her chest heaving with the effort of her tantrum. “You’re insane. What're you, obsessed with me or something?!” she spat, her voice low and venomous.

“Probably,” I admitted, stepping back and shutting the door before she could argue.

As I rounded the car to the driver’s side, I caught a glimpse of her in the rearview mirror, fuming, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

She was fire, all right. And I’d always been drawn to the flames.

The drive was silent, though it wasn’t peaceful. The air between us was tense, charged with unspoken words and unresolved heat. I could feel her staring out the window, arms crossed and jaw set, likely debating if throwing herself out of a moving car was preferable to staying in my presence.

I smiled to myself. Her silence was amusing, but I knew it wouldn’t last. Layla wasn’t the type to bottle things up for long.

When I finally pulled up to the curb in front of Ziggler Ink, the tattoo parlor she called work, her head snapped toward me. She stared at the neon sign through the windshield, her confusion clear as day.

“How the hell do you know where I work?” she demanded, her voice sharp and accusing.

I rested an arm over the steering wheel, turning slightly to face her. “I know more about you than you think,” I said simply, letting the words hang in the air.

Her eyes narrowed, a flash of something—unease, maybe—crossing her face. “That’s creepy, Crest. Seriously creepy.”

I couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped me. “Is it?”

She didn’t answer. Instead, she reached for the door handle, only to find it locked. She glared at me, her irritation morphing into something closer to fury. “Unlock it. Now.”

I didn’t move. Instead, I leaned in, close enough to catch the faint scent of her skin—something soft, warm, and entirely too intoxicating. My fingers brushed her cheek, slow and deliberate, and I felt her freeze under the contact.

“You’re burning up flower, ” I murmured, my voice low. “And I bet it's not just from anger.”

Her lips parted, a sharp answer clearly on the tip of her tongue, but I beat her to it.

“Relax, Layla. It’s just biology,” I said, pulling back slightly but keeping my gaze locked on hers. “ Happens when you're attracted to someone.”

Her cheeks flushed, but not from embarrassment. This was irritation, the fiery kind that made her eyes spark and her fists clench.

“You’re so delusional it's insane, ” she snapped.

“Am I. Should we check to confirm?” I asked, my hand dropping to grasp her thigh. She swallowed hard, her lips parting as she followed the movement.

" It'll be easy to do so with this poor excuse of a skirt, " I went on, and she literally slapped my hand away, her glare intensifying.

" Fuck you Crest! "

I laughed, shrugging off my jacket and holding it out to her. “If you want to get out, you’ll wear this.”

She stared at the jacket like it was a venomous snake, then turned her glare back on me. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re still not out of the car,” I countered.

She let out a string of colorful words under her breath before snatching the jacket from my hands. I watched, amused, as she shrugged it on, the fabric practically swallowing her smaller frame.

“There. Happy?” she bit out, her voice dripping with venom.

I unlocked the door. “Ecstatic. Have a lovely day at work flower.”

She climbed out, slamming the door with enough force to make me wince, and stormed toward the tattoo parlor. I stayed where I was, watching as she muttered to herself, no doubt cursing me to the depths of her soul.

Even in anger, she was mesmerizing. Every movement was enticing , her long legs filling me with fantasies of what they'd look like wrapped around me. And I didn't fail to notice that my jacket was longer that the outfit she had on. I'd have to make sure she never dressed like that again.

As she reached the door, she turned back, shooting me one last glare before disappearing inside.

I smiled to myself, gripping the wheel tightly. She could try to run, but I wasn’t going anywhere. Not this time. She was mine, even if she didn't know it yet.