Page 5

NOELLE

I used to think hating things was exhausting and unnecessary.

You spend so much energy when you hate something.

It’s best to just ignore it and move on.

Well, at least that was how I felt before.

I’ve never truly hated anything in my life.

Not Brussels sprouts or pineapple on pizza, not waking up at an ungodly hour to take a math exam, not even PE classes.

But LEGO?

I loathe LEGO. With every fiber of my being. When I worked as a kindergarten teacher, I didn’t mind them at all … mostly because I had shoes on, so I had great defense against them. But here, in Adrian’s home, they are everywhere.

Those tiny, evil, indestructible bricks lurk in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to destroy me and my sanity.

They hide in the couch, behind the table leg, under the carpet, by the laundry basket.

Basically in places no human hand has ever put them, I know because Thomas only ever plays with them on the LEGO table in his playroom.

And yet, somehow, they magically appear in my path.

My soul leaves my body each time I step on one. My vision goes white, and a yelp gets stuck in my throat. I question every decision that has led me here and wonder if I steered an inch to the left, would I have avoided the cruel, unnecessary pain? I pick up the offending brick and glare at it.

I would burn every piece to the ground if they weren’t Thomas’s favorite toy.

That’s why I’m more than glad to take him to soccer practice. At least once there, I’m in no danger of losing my good mood because of LEGO. God, I feel so mature right now.

The afternoon sun beats down on the field as I watch Thomas sprint after the soccer ball, his little legs moving faster than I thought possible. He’s grinning, completely in his element, and I can’t help but smile too.

I admit I was a bit nervous at first when I agreed to babysit him.

But he’s such a joy to be around, easy to laugh with, and even easier to love.

He reminds me of the reason I loved my job in the first place.

I like kids. I like their inquisitive, curious minds.

I like their innocence. It’s something I forgot after working for a while and realizing that being a teacher requires lots and lots of paperwork.

“Which one’s yours?”

The voice comes from my left, and I barely stifle a sigh before turning. A man—probably mid-forties, thinning salt and pepper hair, cocky smile, expensive watch, too much cologne, and an aura of self-importance—steps close just enough that his overpowering scent threatens to make me sneeze.

I’m a pretty friendly person, but when someone invades my personal space, an overly friendly man no less, I immediately shut down.

“Thomas. I’m his nanny,” I say smoothly, hoping that’ll be enough and he realizes I’m in no mood for a conversation … at least with him.

It isn’t. Of course. Guys like this cannot take a hint. I can plaster a “Not Interested. Go Away” sign on my forehead, and he’ll talk like I’m hanging on to his every word.

“Ah,” he says, flashing a grin and standing way too close for my comfort. “So, not yours. I knew I hadn’t seen you here before. Someone like you? I’d remember easily.”

I clench my jaw, force a polite smile, and nod. He still doesn’t take the hint.

“You must get lonely and bored. Always watching from the sidelines while the real parents do their thing.”

I exhale slowly, gripping the water bottle in my hands before I say something I shouldn’t. “I’m perfectly happy, thanks.”

“Hey.” He steps even closer, and I resist the urge to flinch. “No harm in a little conversation. You should be a little friendlier. You know, maybe smile a little more. After all, I can show you around. Just the two of us.”

I open my mouth to politely ask him to leave me alone when a shadow falls over us. A very tall, broad, dangerous-looking shadow. I don’t even have to turn around to know he’s here, and I let out a breath of relief.

Adrian stands beside me, his presence alone making the other man shift uncomfortably and swallow hard. Adrian’s voice is calm, smooth, but ice-cold. “You got something to say to my girl?”

The other guy laughs nervously, his eyes darting toward his friends by the benches. “Just chatting. I saw her alone and thought she could use a friend.”

Adrian’s lips curl, but there’s no humor in it.

His eyes—sharp, dark, deadly—never leave the man.

I have never seen him like this. “That so?” He steps forward, forcing the guy to back up a step.

“Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re being a problem.

Can’t you tell if a woman’s not interested?

And you even had the audacity to tell her to smile.

She was smiling … before you came and interrupted her peace. ”

Color drains from his face, and he clears his throat. “Didn’t mean any disrespect.”

Adrian growls, “Then walk away.”

The other guy doesn’t hesitate. He doesn’t even look at me, just rushes to his buddies. Doesn’t feel good when people make you uncomfortable, right? That should teach him. The lesson better land.

I cross my arms, shaking my head as Adrian watches him go. “You didn’t have to scare him off that hard.”

He turns to me then, eyes still burning. “He was looking at you like you were available. Like he had a chance. The fucking nerve.”

I tilt my head to the side. “And I’m not available? Last I checked, I was just your live-in nanny.”

His jaw ticks, and I don’t miss the hot gaze he rakes up my body, making me pulse with want. “Not to anyone but me.”

The possessiveness in his voice sends a shiver down my spine, pleasure singing through my nerves.

And honestly? I don’t hate it. I’m starting to like this side of Adrian. I've been obsessed with him for so long that being on the other side feels too unbelievable. It’s almost like waking up in an alternate universe.

God, I can’t wait to tear his clothes off later.

He turns to me, eyes searching my face. “Are you okay, Noelle?”

I take a quick peek at Thomas and see him focused on the game, so I stand on my toes and give Adrian a soft kiss, my core clenching at hearing him gasp. “I’m so hot for you right now, you know that?”

He smiles against my lips. “Not yet, no, but let me know later. I will need proof.”

We’re at the small Italian restaurant my family and I used to go to. I have so many fond memories of this place. It was always where we celebrated birthdays, my parents’ anniversaries, high school graduations, Peter’s and my college acceptance, and pretty much every major milestone.

Now I’m here with Adrian and Thomas. Time does fly. In a way, this is a major milestone for me, too. Somehow, not even a week after I showed up at his front door and I already feel like this is that one place I was meant to belong.

The scent of fresh bread and pasta fills the air, along with shouts from the kitchen.

Thomas happily twirls the cacio e pepe onto his fork—well, mostly onto his fork.

Some of it lands on the table, but he’s trying, his brows scrunching, and I respect the effort. He’s so cute, and he doesn’t even try.

“So,” Adrian says, raising a brow, “how’s your new boss treating you?”

“Oh, you know. Not bad.”

“Not bad?!”

“I mean, he’s okay. Not the best, just okay. Can be a bit demanding. Not sure I want to stay or find employment elsewhere.”

Adrian’s eyes look like they’re about to pop out of their sockets. “Take that back.”

I chuckle and fork a piece of ravioli before popping it into my mouth. “No.”

He leans back and taps his finger on the table. “I will make you take that back.”

Thoroughly enjoying myself, I shrug and mimic him by tapping my finger on the table. “You can try.”

Thomas chooses that moment to ask between forkfuls of pasta. “Nono, Dad said you’re a teacher. Is that true?”

I nod, warming up to the topic. I love talking about my job. “Grade school and kindergarten. Best job ever.”

He slurps up a noodle. “Why did you stop?”

I exchange a glance with Adrian, who’s watching me closely because maybe he, too, wants to hear my answer. I never told my parents or Peter. I told them I was quitting and coming home. That’s it.

“Because I needed a break,” I say, sobering a little but finally relieved to let it out. “Teaching is the best, and it’s very rewarding, but also takes a lot from me. I wanted to breathe for a little while before going back.”

His little face scrunches. “Are you gonna be a teacher again?”

I smile. “Absolutely.”

“Good.” He stabs a meatball from Adrian’s plate. “We need fun teachers, just like you.”

I press a hand to my heart, swallowing past the lump in my throat, surprised at the warmth I feel. “That might be the highest compliment I’ve ever received.”

He nods. “My kindergarten teacher was so strict. She always told me to sit still.”

I gasp. “Sit still? The horror! I would never.”

He grins, and it’s always when he does that that I see he’s a spitting image of his father. “I know! She also said I couldn’t bring inside the worm I found by the playground.”

“No way!”

“I named him Burt, but I returned him outside, and when I came back after school, he was gone.”

Adrian interjects, “Maybe he turned into a butterfly.”

Thomas stares at Adrian, his face full of disbelief and disappointment, and shakes his head. “Dad, Burt’s a worm, not a caterpillar.”

I swallow back a laugh and continue watching them. Adrian looks torn between confusion about the difference between a worm and a caterpillar and amusement at the way his five-year-old son just corrected him in public, with zero hesitation, too.

It’s a beautiful thing to witness, Adrian becoming who he is.

I’ve always known Adrian would grow up to be a good man, but watching how he is as a father, the patience, love, and pride in his eyes? I’m falling dangerously deeper for him.

And honestly, I don’t mind at all. It’s a welcome feeling. He was and will always be the love of my life.