The dress I'm wearing feels like it's clinging to every part of me, like it knows how nervous I am. I smooth my hands over the fabric for the hundredth time, trying to convince myself it's not too much. Adrian is so different. Quieter, more thoughtful. And I can't help but wonder if he'll think this outfit is too bold, too... me.

I catch my reflection in the mirror. The dress is simple, black, with a high neckline and a slit that runs up the side. It's sexy, but not over the top. My hair is curled loosely over my shoulders, and my makeup is soft, natural. It's the kind of look that screams, "I didn't try too hard," even though I absolutely did.

Adrian. Even his name makes my stomach flip. He's not like Declan or Elias. They're both so open, so unapologetically themselves. Adrian is... a puzzle. Reserved, cautious, and so damn polished it makes me wonder what's hiding underneath that exterior. He's the kind of man who walks into a room and everyone straightens up. But with me? I'm not sure he knows how to let go. I think about the way he's looked at me recently, his gaze lingering a little longer, his words softer than they used to be. There's something there—I feel it—but I wish he'd just say it. Or show it. 

I mean, yeah, he's kissed me. And yeah, he's said multiple times that he wants to try this relationship out with me, with my men. But it's like he is standing on the edge of the pier. Like, he can see the water just fine, even feel it a little, but he hasn't jumped in. It's like he is keeping himself safe, while still being able to see everything. The pier is a wall and I want it down. I want Adrian to want this as much as my other men did and jump straight in.

Behind me, Declan lets out a low whistle. "Damn, Val. You trying to kill the guy?"

I turn around, rolling my eyes, but the heat rising in my cheeks gives me away. "It's just a dress."

Declan smirks, lounging back with an arm draped over the back of the couch. "That's not just a dress. That's a declaration of war."

Elias snorts from the chair, his fingers tapping absently on his knee. "He's not wrong. You look incredible." He tilts his head, his sharp gaze scanning me. "Nervous?"

"Is it that obvious?" I sigh, moving to the dresser to adjust one of my earrings. My reflection gives away my jitters. Wide eyes, a hint of color in my cheeks. God, I'm a mess.

Declan gets up, crossing the room in a few easy strides. His hands land on my shoulders, warm and grounding. "You've got nothing to be nervous about. Adrian's a good guy. Hell, he's lucky to even be going out with you."

Elias nods, leaning forward. "Declan's right. Just... be yourself. He likes you, Val. You wouldn't be here if he didn't."

I chew on my lip, glancing between them. Declan's calm confidence, Elias's quiet intensity—they're grounding in a way I didn't know I needed tonight. "It's just... he's different, you know? I feel like I know you two inside and out, but Adrian? He's still a mystery."

"Isn't that part of the fun?" Elias asks, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "Figuring him out?"

"Sure, if it doesn't blow up in my face," I mumble, fiddling with the bracelet on my wrist. The one they gave me. It's like carrying a piece of them with me tonight. A reminder that I'm not walking into this alone.

Declan squeezes my shoulders, his voice low and steady. "It won't. You've got this. And if you want to take things further tonight, you know we're okay with that. Don't overthink it."

Elias raises an eyebrow. "But don't do anything stupid like fall for him too fast." He lets out a chuckle.

I laugh despite myself, the tension in my chest easing a little. "I don't even know what 'too fast' means anymore. You two kind of threw the whole timeline out the window."

Declan grins. "Good. That's how it should be."

I glance at the clock. It's time. My stomach tightens again, but the warmth of Declan's hands and Elias's knowing smile keep me grounded. "Okay," I say, grabbing my clutch from the dresser. "I'm going."

"Have fun," Declan says, his voice softer now. "And don't overthink it. You're perfect."

Elias stands, crossing the room to kiss my cheek. "Knock him dead."

I nod, a small smile tugging at my lips as I head for the door. The nerves are still there, fluttering in my chest, but so is something else—a quiet confidence that maybe, just maybe, this will go exactly how it's supposed to.

***

The drive to Adrian's place after dinner is quiet, but not uncomfortable. It's that kind of silence where words aren't necessary, where everything feels suspended in time. 

I can still feel the heat from his hand brushing against mine earlier, the weight of his gaze lingering on me like he's trying to figure out what's happening between us just as much as I am. 

Tonight's been... different. Softer. And somehow, that makes me even more nervous.

When we pull into his driveway, I find myself as surprised as I was the first time I saw his house. The sleek, modern design, all glass and sharp lines, looks like it belongs in a magazine, not in this quiet, gated neighborhood. I swallow hard as he puts the car in park. It's overwhelming, but that's Adrian. Polished, refined, and way out of my league—or at least, that's what the little voice in my head keeps whispering.

Adrian steps out of the car and comes around to my side, opening the door for me. His hand extends toward me, steady and deliberate. I take it, my palm sliding into his, and I'm struck by how warm it feels, how solid. He helps me out of the car, his touch lingering a second longer than it needs to.

"Thank you," I murmur, my voice softer than I intend. He nods, his lips pressing into a faint smile as he leads me to the door.

The way he moves is careful, deliberate. It reminds me of how he is at work, always composed, always in control. But tonight, there's a tension in him, a subtle rigidity that makes me wonder if he's just as nervous as I am.

Adrian unlocks the door and steps aside, gesturing for me to enter first. "After you," he says, his voice quieter than usual.

I step inside, and the house is just as immaculate as I remember. The open layout, the minimalist furniture, the gray and white tones with pops of color. It all screams Adrian. I trail my fingers along the cool marble of the entryway table, trying to ground myself.

"I'll get us something to drink," Adrian says, his voice breaking the silence. He moves toward the kitchen, his footsteps soft against the polished hardwood floor.

I follow him slowly, my eyes scanning every detail of the space. The kitchen is a chef's dream. Pristine countertops, stainless steel appliances, and a ridiculous amount of space for someone who probably orders takeout more than he cooks. Adrian pours two drinks, his hand trembling slightly as he lifts the glass to his lips.

"Are you nervous?" I ask, my voice cutting through the quiet. I don't mean to sound accusing, but I can't help noticing the way his hands shake, the way he keeps avoiding my eyes.

He exhales a short laugh, setting his glass down. "Is it that obvious?"

"A little," I admit, my own nerves making me fidget with the hem of my dress. "Is it me? Or... everything?"

Adrian turns to face me fully, leaning against the counter. "It's not you," he says quickly, shaking his head. "Well, it's partly you."

I blink, caught off guard. "Partly?"

He laughs softly, a sound that's more self-deprecating than anything else. "I don't really date," he admits, running a hand through his hair. "I've never been good at this kind of thing. And with you... it's different. It's more."

His words make my heart ache and soar at the same time. "More?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. Does he mean too much?

He nods, his gaze dropping to the glass in his hands. "Yeah. More." He takes a deep breath, setting his drink down before meeting my eyes. "And then there's Declan and Elias. I've never been part of something like this. It's... intimidating."

His honesty hits me like a tidal wave. I bite my lip, my thoughts spiraling. Is he about to call this off? Is this too much for him? Did I misread everything? My stomach twists as I try to think of what to say, but before I can speak, Adrian steps closer.

His hand reaches for mine, his touch steadying me. "Valarie," he says softly, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. "I'm nervous because I've never done this before. Not dating, not relationships like this. But I know one thing for sure—I want to be with you. Whether you have two other men or ten, it doesn't change that."

His words knock the wind out of me, and I feel the tension in my chest start to ease. "You're sure?" I ask, my voice shaky.

He nods, his eyes steady on mine. "I'm sure. I just... don't want to mess this up. I don't want to be the piece that doesn't fit."

"You're not," I say quickly, squeezing his hand. "You're not the odd piece, Adrian. This is new for all of us. We're figuring it out as we go."

His shoulders relax slightly, and a faint smile tugs at his lips. "Thank you," he murmurs.

Before I can say anything else, Adrian leans in, his lips brushing against mine. The kiss is soft at first, tentative, like he's testing the waters. But then his hands are on my waist, pulling me closer, and everything else fades away. His lips are warm, his movements deliberate, and the way he holds me makes my heart race.

Without breaking the kiss, Adrian lifts me effortlessly, setting me on the cool marble of the kitchen island. The contrast between the chill of the surface and the heat of his body sends a shiver through me. He steps between my parted thighs, his hands settling on my hips as he deepens the kiss.

My arms loop around his neck, pulling him closer as I lose myself in the moment. The tension, the nerves, the overthinking, it all melts away, leaving just the two of us. Adrian's lips trail down my jawline, his breath warm against my skin, and I can't help the soft gasp that escapes me.

Adrian's lips brush down my neck, soft but deliberate, like he's memorizing me with every kiss. I can feel his breath, warm against my skin, and it sends a ripple of heat straight through me. My legs tighten instinctively around his hips, pulling him closer.

His kitchen feels too pristine for this. Like we're breaking some unspoken rule by being here, on his spotless counters, disrupting the perfectly placed decor. But I don't care. And from the way Adrian leans into me, his careful demeanor unraveling just enough to reveal something raw and real, I don't think he does either.

My hands slide into his black hair, tugging gently as his lips travel lower, finding the sensitive spot just below my ear. A soft moan escapes me before I can stop it, and I feel him smile against my skin.

"Val," he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly. It's the kind of voice that makes my toes curl. "Tell me what you're thinking."

What am I thinking? My mind is a jumble of sensations. His hands, his mouth, the way he's pressing against me like he can't get close enough. But there's more than that. There's the vulnerability in his touch, the quiet nerves he hasn't quite shaken.

"I'm thinking," I start, my voice barely above a whisper, "that you don't need to be nervous. Not with me."

His movements still for just a second, his forehead resting against mine as he takes a breath. "Easier said than done," he admits, his lips quirking into a small, self-deprecating smile. "You make me want to be... perfect."

The honesty in his words knocks something loose in me, and I tighten my grip on him, making him meet my eyes. "Adrian, I don't need perfect. I just need you."

Something shifts in his gaze, something deeper and more intense. His hands slide up my sides, brushing over the thin material of my dress, and his fingers flex. "You're going to ruin me," he whispers, and the words send a thrill straight through me.

"Good," I say, leaning in to capture his lips again. "You deserve a little chaos."

His laugh is quiet, almost disbelieving, but then he's kissing me harder, his control slipping just enough to make my head spin. I can feel the tension in his body, the way he's holding back, trying not to lose himself completely. It's so Adrian. So careful, so deliberate. It makes me want to push him, to see how far he's willing to go.

My hands trail down his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles through his shirt, and I feel him shudder under my touch. "Val," he murmurs, his voice strained. "If you keep doing that..."

I grin, my fingers slipping lower, teasing. "What? This?"

His grip on my waist tightens, and he steps back just enough to look at me, his eyes dark with something that sends a delicious shiver through me. "You're playing with fire," he says, his tone both a warning and a challenge.

"Maybe I like the heat," I counter, tilting my head in mock innocence.

Adrian's breath catches, and for a moment, the tension between us crackles like electricity. Then, with a sharp inhale, he steps back, running a hand through his hair. "If we keep this up, I'm not going to be able to stop," he says, his voice low and ragged.

"Who said I want you to stop?"