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I could hardly believe my eyes—there was Ethan, standing in the doorway like one of those dramatic plot twists from a cheesy spy movie.
His usually perfect hair was a bit messy from whatever antics he'd been up to at the gala downstairs, and those sharp blue eyes of his were narrowing at us, mixing confusion with what looked suspiciously like betrayal.
My heart was already racing from our little break-in, but now it felt like it was about to leap out of my chest and sprint for the elevator.
How had he gotten here so quickly? Had he followed us? Or was this just life's way of slapping me with a reminder that my brilliant ideas often came with a side of chaos?
Probably the last one.
I stood frozen, mouth agape like a fish out of water, while Adrien stepped instinctively in front of me, his broad shoulders forming a ridiculous barrier that was part protective, part frustratingly endearing. It mostly made me feel like a male damsel in distress at that moment.
