ISABELLA'S POV
The warmth of Adrien's palm was steady on my cheek, his breath brushing mine, slow and deliberate.
His forehead leaned against mine, and the world had shrunk to nothing but the space between us—soft, suspended, trembling on the edge.
He was about to kiss me.
And I was going to let him.
Then—
BANG.
The door flung open like it had something urgent to announce.
"Bella?"
I flinched so hard I nearly jolted off the bed. Adrien froze too, fingers still half-pressed to my jaw.
There, standing in the doorway, was Leo holding a lunchbox like it was a peace offering. He blinked. Then blinked again. Behind him, my dad stepped in, eyes immediately sweeping over me, pausing on Adrien, then drifting to our still-entwined hands. His expression turned unreadable in the way that made my stomach lurch.
"Dad," I blurted before my brain could stop me.
Adrien straightened, already half-rising to introduce himself like the polite, well-bred man he is. "I'm Adrien W—"
WHACK.
