Adrian reaches for my purse on the table, his hand still wrapped around my arm. "I'm putting you in a cab."
"You're not the boss of me! Let go!"
Adrian's cold eyes meet mine, a slight smirk on his face. "TechnicallyI am."
I roll my eyes, struggling under his grasp. "We're not at work right now."
"And yet, for some reason, I still feel responsible for you." Adrian loops my purse over my shoulder and places his other hand on my waist, leading me out of the bar.
After several squirming attempts to unlatch from his strong grip, I give up. "I didn't know taking care of drunk employees was part of your job description,Mr. Cavallero," I slur, trying to blink my vision into focus.
Adrian hails a cab wordlessly, ignoring my comment. Before I know it, my bare legs come into contact with cold leather, and Adrian slides in beside me. "Address?" he asks sternly.
I mumble my address to the cab driver then cross my arms, facing away from Adrian in a huff. "Why are you here? I'm not inviting you upstairs if that's what you're thinking!"
A sardonic laugh slips out of Adrian's mouth. "Trust me, I don't want to come up. Not when you're this drunk and acting like an insolent brat."
I whip my head around and narrow my eyes. "A brat?" I exclaim. "Maybe I'm acting like a fucking brat because you're basically kidnapping me!"
Our cab driver looks through his rearview mirror, his face full of horror.
"Don't worry, sir. I'm not actually kidnapping her; she's just being verydramatic," Adrian says coolly, making direct eye contact with our jumpy driver.
"Sounds like something a kidnapper would say," I mumble under my breath then jolt in my seat. "Oh my God!"
Adrian's tired eyes widen from my outburst. "What?!"
"I didn't say bye to Monique!" I fumble through my purse for my phone and begin to type out a text. Jesus, when did these letters become so small?!
Backspace. Backspace. Backspace.
Adrian lets out an exasperated sigh, yanking my phone from my hand. "Tell me what to type."
"Give me back my phone!" I try to reach for it, but Adrian catches my hand in his.
"Right now," he commands.
"Fine!" I scoff. "Say: Mon Mon, I got a little too wasty-pants and went home. Love you—heart." I lean over to see if he's typing it verbatim, but I can't see the screen properly. "Don't typeheart, use the emoji, but not the red one, the two pink ones, dancing."
Adrian sighs, shaking his head but following my directions...I think. "Here." He hands me back my device.
I slide my phone into my purse. "Thanks," I mutter begrudgingly.
We sit in tense and awkward silence for a few minutes before Adrian comments quietly, "you smell like tequila."
"Regular Sherlock over here," I retort flatly. "Probably because I drank tequila."
Adrian shifts in his seat. "You are just a treat right now."
I turn my head and give him a scowling smile. "Oh, I'm sorry! Am I not being amiable enough for you right now?"
Adrian's mischievous eyes darken as he jerks his hand towards my face, cupping my chin between his domineering fingers. "If you weren't drunk right now—" His thumb caresses my bottom lip as he shakes his head slowly. "The things I would do to this smart little mouth of yours."
My jaw drops in utter astonishment. "Uh—er—" I stutter, lost for words.
"What's wrong, Cassie?" Adrian smirks, dropping his hand on to my thigh and giving it a firm squeeze.
I close my eyes and take a deep stabilizing breath, while running my fingers over my lips. Images of all the dirty things I'd let Adrian do to my willing body flash through my mind, and I mentally have to stop myself from panting.Get a fucking grip, Cassie!