Page 53 of If the Ring Fits

The relief that washes over her face is palpable. Without warning, she leans forward and wraps her arms around my neck, crushing me into a tight embrace.

For a moment, I’m frozen, unsure how to respond. But then, slowly, I allow myself to relax into the hug. My arms come up to encircle her waist, pulling her closer. I breathe in the scent of her shampoo, relishing the softness of her curves pressed against me.

It’s a dangerous indulgence, I know. But just for a minute, I let myself savor it. This feeling of being needed. Of being wanted.

Reluctantly, I pull back. “We should get some sleep.” My voice sounds rough to my ears.

Rowena nods, her cheeks flushed as she stands from the couch. “Right. Goodnight, Adrian.”

“Goodnight, Rowena.”

I watch her walk down the hall and turn just her head over her shoulder, whispering, “Thank you,” before she disappears into her room.

Later, lying in the darkness of my bedroom, I stare up at the ceiling and let out a heavy sigh.

“Man,” I mutter to myself, “what the fuck are you doing?”

22

ROWENA

Saturday morning I lace and unlace my fingers in an anxious dance as I pace back and forth in the living room. Liam has agreed to see me in an hour, and now I have to tell him I’m pregnant with his baby. I focus on my breathing to steady the nerves knotting in my stomach. We’re meeting him in Brooklyn where he lives, and the only thing keeping me from totally freaking out is knowing Adrian will be by my side.

As if summoned by my thoughts, my fake fiancé emerges from his bedroom looking like he stepped straight off a runway in Milan. Even in a simple navy button-down and dark jeans, he screams money, power, status. I’m standing on solid ground, but I might as well be free-falling as I drink in the sight of him.

Still, I frown with worry.

Adrian arches a brow at my unusual reaction, his full lips quirking up in amusement. “Do I not look intimidating enough? I was going for rugged and menacing.” His tone is playful but laced with genuine concern.

Warmth blooms in my chest. Adrian is so different from Liam—open, caring, never making me feel small or stupid.And going along with my weird requests on blind faith. I can be honest with him. I smile, shaking my head. “Trust me, you look plenty intimidating. Like you could buy and sell Liam ten times over.” I circle a hand to point at his designer ensemble. “But could you dress down? I don’t want Liam getting any ideas if he thinks you’re loaded.”

Adrian’s brows knit together. “You think he’d try to take advantage?”

I shrug, rubbing my arm. “I just have a bad feeling, call it women’s intuition. Better to be safe than sorry, you know?”

“I get it. Give me five minutes, I’ll Clark Kent myself into something more low key.” Adrian flashes me a charming grin and disappears back into his room.

If, for any reason, I’d asked Liam to change clothes or even criticized one little thing, he would’ve blown up in my face, yelling and belittling me.

Adrian is so understanding instead, so quick to put me at ease without a hint of condescension or annoyance. The total opposite of how Liam always made me feel—small, stupid, crazy.Extra.

I so wish I didn’t have to see him again. I’ve prepared a speech, to antagonize him as little as possible. But there’s no way to know how my ex will take the news, what his reaction will be.

I’m still rehearsing what I’m going to say to Liam in my head when Adrian reappears, now in faded jeans with a rip in one knee, scuffed-up black Converse, and a wrinkled black T-shirt that looks like it’s seen better days. He spreads his arms, doing a little spin. “How’s this? Broke enough for you?”

My lips twitch, eyes raking over him. Damn. Leave it to Adrian to make shabby look chic. “It’s an improvement. But you’re missing one detail.”

“Oh?” He quirks an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

I point to the gleaming Rolex on his wrist. “You might want to leave the fifty-K watch at home, Richie Rich.”

Adrian barks out a laugh, unclasping the metal band and tossing the watch on a side table. “Good call.”

He winks, causing reactions better left unanalyzed.

“Alright, Miss Taylor.” He offers me his elbow like a gentleman. “Your carriage awaits.”

I tuck my hand into the crook of his arm. “Why, thank you, good sir.”

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