Just joy.
Pure fucking joy.
I close the door to her office behind us.
Adrianna turns to me, brow raised, that soft smile tugging at her lips.
“What is it?”she asks.“You’ve been acting weird all morning.”
I exhale, scrubbing a hand through my hair.Cool.Play it cool.
I absolutely do not play it cool.
“I’ve been waiting on some news, and well, I got it.”
“And?”
“The Sparkhit number one.”
Her gasp is instant.“Nathan—oh my God!That’s amazing!”
She launches at me, arms flung around my neck, nearly knocking me backward.I catch her easily—laughing, breathless, completely gone for this woman.
She pulls back just enough to cradle my face in her hands.
“I’m so proud of you,” she whispers.
And that—that means more than platinum records, sold-out arenas, awards, all of it combined.
“It’s your song,” I say softly.“You made it happen.”
Her breath stutters.
“Nathan,” she murmurs, and it sounds like a prayer.
I lift her hand and press my lips to her palm.
Then her wrist.
Then, I kiss the soft inside of her arm.
Not rushed.
Not frantic.
Just reverent.
Her whole body melts into mine.
“Nathan,” she whispers again, but this time it’s loaded.Warm.Wanting.
I kiss her slow, then deeper, my hands sliding to her waist—hers tangling in my hair.
The world shrinks down to this tiny office, to the warmth of her body, to the certainty I feel in my bones.
She breaks the kiss with a shaky breath.
“I wanna take you home.”I rest my forehead against hers.
