Beneath the Alpha's Moon
Chapter 50: Privacy?

Chapter 50: Privacy?

TERESA’S P.O.V.

A soft but insistent knock on my door tugged me from the hazy grip of sleep. That had to be Adrian; no one else had come to my place so early in the month and half I’d been living here. I sleepily blinked at the clock—8 a.m. Oh, thank goodness, I thought with relief. Yesterday, Adrian had shown up at 7 on the dot, catching me in full-on bedhead mode. Today, however, was apparently a more civilized hour.

I stumbled to the door and opened it, and there he was—Adrian Daegon, standing there with his effortless charm, looking as put together as if he had an entire entourage behind him. His calm, knowing smile was the kind of smile that made you wonder if he was always this unruffled or if he practiced it in the mirror.

"Good morning, Teresa," he greeted, voice smooth as warm honey. "I’m here to take you to the hospital, just as promised."

I blinked, my cheeks instantly warming. I had completely forgotten about that. I was even planning on laying about on my bed all day today. I cleared my throat and tried to shake the sleep from my brain. "Oh, right! Yeah, um... would you like to come in? I just need a few minutes to get ready."

"Of course," he said, stepping in with a nod and a faint smile. He moved with that understated grace that somehow both filled the room and put me completely at ease. Meanwhile, I scrambled off to get myself together, leaving him standing alone in my tiny living space.

Believe it or not, given the life Luke and I ended up with, I was never one for getting close to strangers. My first instinct? Turn around and run. But with Lucian, I let myself get pulled in, and now with Adrian—a guy who seemed to think "privacy" was just a suggestion—I was being drawn in again, this time to a whole new mystery. But now, things were different. My heart was locked up tighter than a vault, and I wasn’t about to let anyone, no matter how ridiculously attractive, even try to break in.

While I threw on clothes and tried to tame my hair into something that didn’t resemble a bird’s nest, I could hear sounds from the kitchen. Wait... the kitchen? I emerged, both curious and a little apprehensive, only to find Adrian at my stove, for the second time in two days, casually flipping pancakes like he owned the place.

I stopped in my tracks, staring. "Adrian... you’re... making breakfast again?"

"Someone has to," he said with a soft chuckle, not even looking up. "I figured you might skip it otherwise."

I gaped, caught somewhere between mortification and a strange sense of warmth. Oh, right, this is now my new normal, I thought. A guy who looks like he stepped out of a catalog is just casually cooking in my kitchen for the second time like it’s the most ordinary thing ever.

"Sit," he said, gesturing to the table with a smooth wave. "You should eat before we go."

I managed to stumble to a chair, still feeling dazed, and stared at the plate he set in front of me. "Thank you... are you eating, too?"

He shook his head, his purple iris crinkling just slightly at the edges. "No, I’ve already had my fill." There was something in his tone—just a hint of mischief—but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I tried not to dwell on it as I dug into the breakfast, which tasted incredible, but I barely noticed the flavors with him watching me, clearly amused.

After a few minutes, Adrian cleared the table and even did the dishes, not listening to any of my protests. But eventually, we finally headed out the house to his car. Well, not just a car—a sleek, navy-blue truck that practically gleamed in the morning sun, looking like it was fresh off the showroom floor.

I raised my eyebrows, trying to play it cool. "This is yours?"

"Indeed." He gave a nod that somehow managed to be both modest and proud at the same time. He opened the door for me, waiting with that quiet, watchful patience as I settled in.

Once we were on the road, he glanced over, lips twitching with what looked suspiciously like a smirk. "What?" I asked, feeling a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. "Did I do something funny?"

"Not at all," he replied, chuckling softly. "It’s just... refreshing to see someone so genuine. You’re easy to read, Teresa."

"Oh, is that so?" I crossed my arms, feigning offense. "What is it you’re seeing that makes you think so? Because I know for a fact that I’m somebody with layer that you could never fully understand."

"Perhaps to other people." He shrugged, eyes twinkling. "But to me, you’re an open book I happen to enjoy reading so much."

I snorted, trying to act unbothered, but inside, I was a mess. He had this way of talking that made small talk feel like... well, like it mattered. He wasn’t even revealing much about himself, yet somehow I found myself grinning, laughing, and actually forgetting we were headed to the hospital.

When we arrived, Adrian practically leapt out of the truck to open my door before I could even think about doing it myself. He held out a hand, and I took it without a second thought, feeling the coolness of his palm against mine as he guided me through the entrance with a steady, comforting touch.

Immediately, heads began to turn. I could practically hear the whispers as people glanced at us curiously. Ah, the perks of a small town. Nurses, patients, even a couple of doctors, all casted discreet looks in our direction. My cheeks started to heat up, especially as I caught sight of a woman in the corner giving me a knowing look. Great, I thought. I bet they’re wondering if he’s the father.

Adrian must have sensed my discomfort, because he leaned down, his voice low and soothing in my ear. "Ignore them. Just focus on me."

I felt my face flush even more but nodded, taking a shaky breath. He stayed right beside me through every check-in, every form, guiding me through it all like he’d done this a million times. And every time I tried to thank him, he brushed it off with a casual, "It’s nothing."

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, we reached the last waiting area, and I let out a sigh of relief, sinking into one of the plastic chairs.

"You know," I said, giving him a playful glare, "I’m never coming here with you again. You make it impossible to go unnoticed!"

Adrian raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Is that so? And here I thought I was making it easier."

"Oh sure," I muttered. "As if people aren’t already thinking you’re some kind of dashing hero out of a romance novel."

He laughed, actually laughed, and I couldn’t help but join in. And just like that, sitting in an unremarkable hospital waiting room, surrounded by the stares and whispers of strangers, it didn’t seem so bad.

Adrian’s car glided smoothly down the road as we left the last appointment of the day behind us. When we left the hospital, he held the door open for me again, every motion he made looked graceful and poised, as if he’d been born with this ease and elegance of a more refined era. I found myself studying him in quiet admiration as he took his place in the driver’s seat, our ride home falling into the same comfortable, almost intimate silence punctuated only by the occasional, soft exchange.

As we neared my street, I took a breath, rehearsing the words in my mind before speaking. I turned toward him. "Thank you, Adrian... really. I appreciate everything today, but... I think I’d prefer to go alone next time." I tried to say it as gently as I could, hoping he’d understand and wouldn’t take it the wrong way.

Adrian’s eyebrows rose, a flicker of surprise briefly touching his otherwise composed face. He looked over at me with a calm, questioning gaze. "Have I done something to make you uncomfortable?"

"Oh, no, not at all," I blurted out, suddenly flustered. "You’ve been nothing but wonderful. It’s just... this is all so new for me—the town, the people, the attention. I think I’d just like to... keep a lower profile, if that makes sense."

He tilted his head, watching me thoughtfully, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "I understand," he said, his voice warm, though I could sense a hint of amusement under his words. "If it’s privacy you want, then of course, Teresa." But there was something in the way he spoke that made me wonder if he really intended to honor my request.

I opened my mouth, ready to insist, but he cut me off with that slow, teasing smile of his. "So," he drawled, "how about we pick up that tour tomorrow, since it got... interrupted yesterday?"

I hesitated, feeling his gaze on me. "Adrian, I... well, I thought I just said..."

His expression softened, and before I could finish, he added in that polite, old-fashioned tone, "Have a lovely day, Teresa."

I sighed, recognizing his subtle dismissal. Nodding, I stepped out of the car, murmuring my thanks, and watched as he drove away. As he disappeared down the street, I couldn’t help but linger a moment, wondering if I’d somehow upset him—or if this was just one more layer to the mystery of Adrian Daegon, a man who seemed all too willing to leave me both charmed and confused.