Chapter 1387

Allan smacked his lips like he was tasting the water and then dragged his tongue slowly across his lower lip. “Huh. Why does this water taste like lipstick? Peach, maybe?” His eyes dropped deliberately to her mouth.

Adah’s face blazed. “Quit staring! One more look and I’ll gouge your eyes out!”

Allan laughed low, leaning close until his breath touched her ear. “We just shared a glass. That’s practically a kiss, you know. My first one, actually. You took it from me—so now, you’ve got to make this right.”

Adah’s ears burned like someone had set them on fire. His first kiss? Seriously? Did he have any idea how ridiculous that sounded? How could he twist something so ordinary into something so absurd and then latch onto her like she owed him something?

Adah’s jaw clenched hard. She refused to cause a scene with Rita and Sophie watching, so she chose violence of a quieter kind. Furious, she reached over and pinched his thigh viciously.

Adah acted on pure instinct, focused solely on making Allan pay for his teasing. She didn’t think about trajectory or consequence. When Allan jerked sideways at the last possible second, her hand landed—through some cruel cosmic joke—high on his inner thigh, inches from disaster. A precarious, intimate spot. Her palm had grazed something it absolutely should not have.

Allan hadn’t seen it coming. Neither had Adah. For one suspended heartbeat, they locked eyes in mutual, horrified shock.

She’d grabbed hard. Allan should’ve crumpled. But shock delayed everything—even pain. Several seconds ticked by before he finally dragged in a sharp, hissing breath.

The moment he flinched, Adah jolted back to awareness, her face erupting in flames. Her brain screamed at her to move, but her hand stayed frozen in place, as though she’d forgotten the basic mechanics of pulling away.

Allan’s voice came out low and rough. “Planning to leave it there all day? Bit of an audience for that, don’t you think?”

Adah’s stomach dropped. She yanked her hand back like she’d touched a hot stove. As she did, she swept her gaze around the cabin and realized—with sinking horror—that everyone wore the same expression. That knowing, barely concealed look.

? ?: ν

Cole lifted one deliberate eyebrow and then turned toward the window with theatrical disinterest.

Elliana let out a quiet laugh and shrugged, her face saying, “Oh, I saw it all. Not braced for the scene, though.”

Rita and Sophie dropped their chins, suddenly very committed to pretending they’d been napping.

The rest of the staff glanced anywhere but at Adah, mouths twitching with barely suppressed laughter.

Mortified didn’t even come close. Adah turned on Allan, voice strangled and furious. “Get. Out.”

But as the initial shock wore off, something almost blissful flickered across Allan’s face. He leaned closer, voice dipping into dangerous territory. “So you touch me where you want and then throw me out? Quite heartless, you know.”

For someone who looked so polished, his mouth was filthy. Adah felt rage and embarrassment collide. “Allan—one more word and I swear I’ll stitch your lips together!”

He mimed zipping his mouth shut and went silent. Then, he sank back into the couch, eyes closing. His head still pounded. Exhaustion weighed on him like a lead blanket. He needed sleep—badly.

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