CHAPTER 4: Hot and Cold

Adrian's hands were large and hot, anchoring me against the glass door while he kissed me like he was trying to swallow my breath. I let out a low moan, the sound lost against his lips.

Every part of me felt wired and sensitive, my nipple hard and poking his muscled chest. The calloused texture of his palms against my waist sent a jolt through my spine that made my knees go weak. I pulled him closer, my fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck, desperate to close every millimeter of space between us.

He tasted like the dark and rain. It wasn't the sweet, careful version of Adrian I had built in my mind. This was raw. His chest pressed into mine, firm and unyielding, and I could feel the thud of his heart matching the frantic rhythm of my own.

I whimpered when his teeth grazed my bottom lip, a sharp spark of heat pooling deep in my belly. I was lightheaded, my head tilted back as he moved his mouth down to the sensitive skin of my throat.

"Adrian," I breathed, my eyes fluttered shut.

I was shivering, but I wasn't cold. I wanted him to keep going. I wanted him to erase the image of that scorched rose and the sound of my mother’s voice. I wanted him to be the man from the phone and the man in front of me at the same time. His breath was hot against my ear, and for a second, his grip tightened, his fingers digging into my hips. Then, he stopped.

It wasn't a slow fade. He yanked himself back so suddenly I almost stumbled forward. The air between us felt freezing the moment the contact broke.

I opened my eyes, my vision blurry, and saw him standing a few feet away. He was breathing hard, his hair mussed, and his eyes were dark with a frustration that looked like physical pain.

"No," he said, his voice a jagged wreck. "This is wrong."

I stood there, my lips swollen and my heart still racing. "What? Adrian, what are you talking about?"

"Go to your room, Nirvana," he snapped. He wouldn't look at me. He was staring at the crushed note on the floor instead. "Go to your room and lock the door."

"You just.. we just—"

"I said go!" He turned his back to me, his shoulders rigid. "I shouldn't have touched you. It’s a mistake. Forget it ever happened."

I felt like he’d slapped me. The heat that had been humming through my veins turned into a cold, hollow ache. I didn't say another word. I couldn't. I turned and ran down the hall, my bare feet slapping against the concrete floor. I slammed my bedroom door and turned the lock, leaning my back against the wood.

I waited for him to come after me. I waited for a knock or an apology. But the only sound was the heavy thud of the front door closing a few minutes later. He had left.

I crawled into the oversized bed, pulling the covers up to my chin. The rejection stung worse than anything my mother had ever said to me. I felt humiliated. I had practically thrown myself at him, and he had looked at me like I was a problem he needed to get rid of.

Was it because of Ronan? Did he think I was too young, too "soft," just like he’d told my brother?

I cried until my eyes were puffy and my throat was sore. I thought about the forbidden nature of it all. Ronan would lose his mind if he knew I was pining after his best friend. He would think I was being taken advantage of, but the truth was, I was the one who wanted it. I fell asleep with the smell of Adrian’s cedarwood cologne still clinging to my skin, feeling more alone in this massive penthouse than I ever had in New Orleans.

The next morning, the sun was blindingly bright. It poured through the windows, making the grey concrete floors look almost warm. I sat up, my head throbbing, and for a few seconds, I convinced myself the night before had been a nightmare. The black box, the scorched rose, the kiss; it all felt too intense to be real.

I washed my face, trying to hide the evidence of my breakdown, and walked out into the main area.

Ronan and Adrian were sitting at the long dining table. There were cartons of coffee and a spread of pastries between them. They were hunched over a laptop, speaking in low voices that stopped the moment I entered the room.

"Morning, Nir," Ronan said, giving me a bright, gentle smile. "How was your night?"

I looked at Adrian. He was wearing a clean black t-shirt, his leather vest draped over the chair behind him. He didn't look up from his coffee. He didn't even acknowledge I had walked in.

"I slept fine," I lied, sitting down across from Ronan.

"Good. Look, I’m sorry I stayed out so late. Work got complicated," Ronan said. He pushed a container of orange juice toward me.

"Tis okay" I whispered with a smile

"We were just talking about your setup here. I know you lost your studio back home. I want to make sure you have everything you need to keep painting."

I looked at the window, the New York skyline looking like a wall of steel. I thought about the note.

"Welcome to New York, Muse."

If I stayed in this apartment, painting in a room Ronan built for me, I was just moving from one cage to another. I was still the "soft" girl Adrian looked down on. I wanted out.

"I don't want a studio, Ronan," I said quietly.

Both men looked at me then. Adrian’s eyes met mine for the first time, and I saw a flicker of surprise in them before he masked it with that same cold indifference.

"What do you mean?" Ronan asked, his brow furrowing. "Painting is your life, Nir."

"It was my life in New Orleans because I didn't have anything else," I said.

I felt a sudden spark of defiance. I didn't want to be a liability or a distraction. I wanted to be someone who actually belonged in the world.

"Don't misunderstand me, I still want Art, I want to be that artiste, Muse" I whispered and then I added. "But I want to go to college. I want to enroll at the university here. I want to start over, for real."

Ronan blinked, clearly taken aback. "College? Nirvana, it’s the middle of the year. And with everything going on—"

"What is 'everything going on'?" I challenged, looking between them. "You keep saying it’s dangerous, but you won't tell me why. You treat me like a child who can’t handle the truth. I’m done being the girl who sits in a room and waits for permission to live."

Adrian set his coffee cup down with a deliberate click. "College is a life on its own. It's not something you rush into."

"I'm sure you’re capable of watching a 'perimeter,' Adrian," I said, throwing his own words back at him. "Since I'm such a liability anyway."

Adrian’s jaw tightened. He knew exactly what I was referencing. The air in the room felt tight, the memory of our bodies pressed together against the glass hanging between us like a ghost.

Ronan looked between us, his eyes narrowing as he sensed the tension but couldn't quite place it. "Nir, if this is what you want, I can make it happen. I have connections at Rodrigo University. But you’d have to be careful, you're still new here. You’d have to listen to us."

"I can be careful," I said, staring directly at Adrian. "I just want my own life. I want to be more than just a name on a phone or a girl in a penthouse."

Adrian stood up abruptly, grabbing his leather jacket. "Do whatever you want, Ronan. It’s your sister. But if she’s going to be out in the world, she needs to know the rules. And the first rule is that she doesn't talk to anyone we don't approve of."

He walked toward the door without a second glance.

"Where are you going?" Ronan called out.

"To the garage," Adrian said, his voice flat. "I need to clear my head."

The heavy front door thudded shut behind him. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. I felt a strange mix of triumph and misery. I was going to get my life back, but the man I wanted it with was doing everything in his power to stay away from me.

Ronan reached over and took my hand. "Are you sure about this, Nir? It’s a big jump."

"I'm sure," I said, though my heart was still thumping. "I need to be my own person, Ronan. I can't keep living in the shadows of the men in my life."

He sighed and nodded. "Okay. I'll call the Dean. We’ll get the paperwork started today. But promise me one thing."

"Anything."

"If things feel off, if you see anything like that rose again... you tell me immediately. No secrets."

"I promise," I said, though I felt a pang of guilt. I was already keeping a secret.

I could still feel the phantom pressure of Adrian’s lips on mine, and I knew that no matter how much I tried to start afresh, the heat of that kiss was going to follow me into every classroom and every hallway.

I went back to my room to start looking at course catalogs, trying to focus on my future. But my eyes kept drifting to the window. Down below, I heard the roar of a motorcycle engine. It was a loud, aggressive sound that cut through the city noise. I watched as a dark figure on a bike sped away from the building, weaving through traffic with a recklessness that made my stomach flip. I was no more the soft weak girl, I would show him how desperate I could be.