Page 12 of The Single Dad

“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 iscalm, 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’reat 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 ontohis 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?”

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