Ficorpio
Chapter 1
Chapter 1
I was supposed to get my brother our campus heartthrob’s Instagram.
Three drinks in, the heartthrob was the one who passed out.
I didn’t.
When I woke up, my bra was still lying across his face.
My brain flatlined on the spot.
Ethan, I can explain. Please let me explain.
The day after my brother sent me to get that guy’s Instagram was also the day the massive misunderstanding officially began.
“Did you get it?” Ethan had probably only called me a few dozen times.
“Y-Yeah… I got it.” My face was buried in the blanket, and my voice was so hoarse I sounded like a chain-smoking witch.
“Then why aren’t you back yet? Do you have any idea how crazy I’ve been waiting here?”
Was he seriously this desperate?
I peeked through a slit in the blanket at the gorgeous man beside me.
“Um… Ethan…” I forced myself to ask, “Could you maybe… pick someone else?”
“Why?”
“I just think… maybe… isn’t he a little old?” I stammered, unable to put together a proper sentence.
“Older is better. What do you know, brat?”
Older.
My heart stopped dead.
What exactly was wrong with my brother?
“Ethan, I’m begging you, get a grip.”
This was insane. My brother had been single for over twenty years, and the first person he ever sent me to chase down was a man.
Help. Was my brother maybe… you know?
Top answer: Oh, he was very much you know.
I was doomed.
All I did was ask the campus heartthrob for his Instagram.
The campus heartthrob, meanwhile, seemed determined to take my life.
“Quit rambling. Do you still want that iPhone 13 or not? Send me the Instagram!” Ethan barked.
I clenched my teeth and forced out one word. “Yes.”
Maybe I said it too loudly, because the second it left my mouth, a large hand reached over, yanked me right out of the blanket, and I found myself staring straight into a sleepy, rumpled face.
He looked at me lazily, eyes half-open.
“Your voice is wrecked,” he said in a low, rough murmur. “Why are you still talking?”
“No, I’m not—” I panicked and hung up on Ethan before he could say another word. “My voice is fine.”
“Sure,” he said with a faint smile. Then he sighed and leaned in close enough for his breath to brush my ear. “You’re too stubborn for your own good, kid.”
I—
“You… what’s your name?” I asked, my face going white.
Those soft, affectionate eyes of his stayed on me. He paused for a second, then laughed under his breath. “You still didn’t remember it after last night?”
My heart dropped so hard I thought I might cry. “Could you please be serious?”
“Adrian Sterling.”
“Adrian Sterling, can you please stay away from me?” I blurted out, and only after I said it did I realize my voice was trembling.
His gaze lowered, drifting downward. He took a slow breath. “Are you shy?”
I was done for.
Terrified, I shoved him away, scrambled over, tumbled off the bed, snatched up my clothes, and bolted for the bathroom.
I was still frantically getting dressed in the bathroom when my big brother called again.
I panicked and declined it immediately, then hurried to look up Adrian on Instagram. The second I saw that pitch-black profile picture and the name I’d saved him under—Chloe’s Target #1957—my heart skipped so hard it hurt.
Wow.
Had I seriously numbered every guy I’d ever looked at all the way up to 1957?
Then his profile icon flickered with a new message, and it scared the life out of me.
You forgot your pants. They got dirty. Want me to go buy you a new pair?
I…
If that wasn’t Adrian Sterling, who else could it possibly be?
No! I mean—not that. Don’t worry about it!
My scalp tingled with embarrassment. I had no idea what I was even typing. A second later, I added a begging emoji.
And just like that, he really did stop bothering me.
I stayed in the bathroom alone for a few more minutes, forcing myself to calm down. In the end, I gave up and walked out wearing only the dress. It wasn’t a huge disaster or anything, just… a little breezy.
I inched my way over to him one tiny step at a time, one hand pressing down on my skirt, then sat in front of him.
“What happened last night,” I said, “was ninety-nine percent your fault.”
He looked exhausted. His eyes had just closed, and now he only cracked them open a sliver. “Mm.”
I pressed a hand to my chest to keep my heart from leaping out. “The other one percent was mine. I failed to supervise properly.”
A laugh slipped out of him, soft and amused, like he was just sitting back and watching me perform. “Mm.”
What was this? Had he gone mute? Was “mm” the only word he knew?
I got annoyed.
“So we’re both adults,” I said. “Let’s just pretend nothing happened. And you are absolutely not…” I lost my breath halfway through and had to pause before forcing the rest out. “You are absolutely not telling anyone. Especially my brother.”
He didn’t answer right away. He only looked at me once, and then his gaze slowly drifted downward until it stopped on my lips.
“An adult?” he asked at last.
“Of course I am! I’m twenty!” I wanted to smash his head in. Was he seriously being a creep right now? Where was he even looking?
“Twenty?” He sighed, reached over to the nightstand, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it. Then he rubbed at his temple. “That young?”
Chapter 2
Chapter 2
“You’re not that old either. So what if you’ve eaten a few more years’ worth of meals than I have—” I blurted it out in my rush of anger, then instantly realized how insane that sounded. My whole face burned, and I couldn’t finish.
He paused for a second, then bit down lightly on the cigarette and smiled. “Feisty little thing.”
I…
Mom, I think this man is looking down on me.
“I’m not just feisty,” I said, lifting my fist. “I hit people too.”
A gust of wind blew in through the window, and my skirt flipped up again. I yelped and immediately dropped my hand to hold it down, then tried to keep sounding threatening anyway. “So watch it, or I’ll hit you!”
Instead of getting mad, he smiled wider, and the more he smiled, the less confident I felt.
“Don’t hit me,” he said lazily, sitting up with the cigarette between his fingers. “This old man’s scared.”
As he sat up, the blanket slipped down.
I went blind all over again.
Old man?
Was he really that old?
And my brother had a crush on him?
The second I squeezed my eyes shut, he’d already pulled on a pair of sweatpants—but honestly, by then my eyes had apparently evolved x-ray vision.
At this point, all it took was one glance, and the image auto-generated in my head.
“You.” I glared at him. “Someone requested to follow you on Instagram. Accept it.”
He stopped on his way to the bathroom, a cigarette pinched between his fingers. Through the drifting smoke, he turned his head and looked at me with that stupidly handsome profile of his.
“Who?”
I blanked out for a second, swallowed, and silently cursed myself for being such a hopeless perv.
“My brother.”
“Your brother?” He frowned slightly.
“Yes!”
He went quiet for two seconds, then said, “Sure,” and headed into the bathroom.
I…
He didn’t even ask why. He just accepted it. He, he, he—okay, so he definitely had to be at least a little interested too.
Oh my God.
I clamped a hand over my mouth in agony and forced myself to swallow every single thing that had happened last night.
Water started running in the bathroom. The sound should’ve drowned everything else out, but somehow all I could hear was my own heartbeat.
I shot to my feet.
I had to leave.
No—I had to run.
But… but…
I wasn’t wearing…
How was I supposed to walk out like this and face another human being?
I wanted to slam my head straight into a wall.
In my panic, I started rifling through his room, opening drawers and digging through things for anything that might save me. A few minutes later, I went numb.
Why would a grown man have women’s pants in his closet?
Obviously he wouldn’t.
So when he came out of the bathroom fully dressed, he found me crouched there like a burglar, delicately holding up a pair of his pants by two fingertips and trying to judge the size.
He stopped behind me. “What,” he asked, “are you doing with my pants?”
I spun around and immediately had to look up.
He was six-two, maybe more, and the sheer pressure of his presence nearly made me stop breathing.
I dropped the pants so fast they hit the floor with a flop, then I collapsed right there and confessed honestly, “I don’t have… I just wanted to borrow them…”
For one terrifying second, it felt like all the air in the room had gone still. I could practically feel his gaze drilling through my forehead.
He said nothing.
He bent down, picked up his pants from the floor, and deliberately lowered his head to look at me.
“You wouldn’t fit in them anyway,” he said. “Your waist’s too small.”
My waist?
I immediately clapped both hands over it.
What was wrong with this man?
Seriously, what kind of person was he? How had my brother managed to fall for someone this outrageously flirtatious?
Before I could say anything back, the doorbell rang.
Both of us turned toward the front door at the same time.
Oh no.
Please don’t let that be Ethan.
I’m dead.
Adrian slowly set the pants aside, then pointed at the couch next to me. “Why do you like sitting on the floor so much?” he asked lazily. “You part dog or something?”
I…
“I was born in the Year of the Rooster,” I shot back, offended.
The second I looked up, I saw that he was smiling.
Actually smiling.
Then, still laughing under his breath, he walked to the door and opened it.
I was never going to recover from this.
“Hello, we’re with the community health office.”
I was crouched uselessly by Adrian’s bed, sneaking glances at him, when the voices came from the front door. They were muffled and broken through the apartment, but one sentence came through crystal clear.
“We need your cooperation. Mandatory home quarantine for twenty-eight days.”
Twenty-eight days?
Here?
In Adrian Sterling’s apartment?
I was officially a bug on a hot skillet.
When the health workers finally left, I looked at him with wide, desperate eyes, hoping he’d tell me I’d imagined the whole thing.
“What is this? What do we do?”
“One household tested positive last night. Same building.” He had gone serious too. “So nobody’s going anywhere for now. Call home and let them know.”
I…
I lowered my head, panicking so hard my brain short-circuited. Then something hit me.
“Wait. Let me see your COVID exposure status pass.”
Chapter 3
Chapter 3
He sat down on the edge of the bed with a faint smile, looking straight at me. “You didn’t think to ask before kissing me last night,” he said. Then, very calmly, he added, “It’s red.”
“Red?” I stared at him, horrified.
Rule number one for staying alive during lockdown: check the status pass before getting close to anyone. Especially before kissing them.
How had I forgotten that?
“Yours is probably red too by now,” he said, trying to sound reassuring. “You can’t leave. It’s only twenty-eight days. Just get through it.”
I didn’t want reassurance. I wanted freedom.
“I’m going home.”
I pushed myself up off the floor, but I stood too fast. My vision blacked out, and the next second my whole body tipped sideways.
Straight onto him.
He fell back flat on the bed, hands lifted in surrender. “The door’s over there.”
“I know.” This position was so humiliating I wanted to die, but everything was still spinning and I needed a second.
I had just started to push myself up when I heard him suck in a breath.
I jumped off him immediately and blinked my vision clear. His expression was faintly pained.
“What happened?”
He ignored me, closed his eyes for a few seconds, then said in an aggrieved voice, “Do you have any idea how much you weigh?”
“I’m sorry.” I was mortified. “My blood sugar dropped for a second.”
He sighed. “Stop making a scene. You’re not getting out. If you need anything, make a list. I’ll have them pick it up for us.”
“How am I supposed to explain this to my brother?” I started crying, and this time it was real.
He slowly sat up. “You care that much about what your brother thinks?”
Then he thought for a moment, picked up his phone, and said, “Want me to explain it to him?”
“No!”
I slammed my hand over his, snatched the phone away, and tossed it aside.
“Do not talk to him. And definitely do not contact my brother.”
He looked at me with open amusement. “That scared of him?”
“I’m not scared of him.” I clutched my own phone and backed toward the balcony door. “I just… don’t want there to be any unnecessary misunderstandings between you two.”
“Fine.” He lifted a brow, looking completely unbothered.
Once I got to the balcony, I turned back to make sure he hadn’t followed me. Only then did I call Ethan.
“Big brother,” I said miserably, “I got quarantined. I have to… stay at someone else’s place for twenty-eight days.”
I tried very hard to keep the details vague and avoid triggering his suspicion.
“Whose place?” he asked immediately.
Of course. His instincts were terrifying.
“It’s… his.”
I was stalling so hard I could practically hear the truth clawing its way out.
“You did not—” Ethan sounded like he was about to lose his mind on the other end. “Don’t tell me you asked for someone’s Instagram yesterday and ended up at his apartment?”
Wow. What a brain. Truly wasted outside a detective agency.
“Yeah.”
I fell silent. In the end, there was no dodging it.
“You, you, you…” He sounded so worked up he was tripping over his own words. “Chloe, this… while you’re staying there, help out more, okay? Don’t be as lazy as you are at home, lying around like a dead fish. Make a good impression. Your brother’s counting on you…”
I beg your pardon?
“Wait,” I said carefully. “You don’t mind me staying with him?”
“Of course not. You’re my sister.”
Okay then. My brother really did have a disturbingly large heart.
If he knew that his most trusted little sister had practically tackled his dream guy onto a bed last night, he’d probably be in his feelings for a week.
“So…” I asked cautiously, “are you still buying me the iPhone 13?”
Honestly, respect to me. Even at a time like this, I hadn’t forgotten what mattered.
“Yes! The second you get out, I’ll buy it for you.” Ethan sounded bizarrely excited.
“But while you’re there, be helpful. Behave. Don’t cause trouble. And if possible…” He paused, and somehow he actually sounded a little shy. “Take good care of him for me. At home you’re always bullying me, so this time just pretend I owe you one.”
I was speechless.
Absolutely speechless.
Raise a girl for years, and this was how she got deployed.
My brother was actually asking me to wait on another man hand and foot.
Fantastic.
Apparently I was no longer the treasure of the Bennett household.
After I hung up on my brother, I crept back inside like I was sneaking into enemy territory.
The second I stepped in, I saw Adrian coming out of the kitchen with a glass of milk in one hand and his phone at his ear.
“Yeah, for a woman. Size…” His gaze slid over me, slow and thorough, like he was taking measurements with his eyes.
Seriously?
Was he a pervert or what?
I instantly crossed my arms over my chest.
“B?” he said, one brow lifting.
With that face and those ridiculously beautiful eyes of his, the move should’ve been illegal.
“What are you even talking about? How would you know my—” I looked down at myself, then immediately got offended. “It’s more than that.”
His calm expression cracked for a second. He lowered his head and laughed softly. “Then get something looser.”
“Pink? Is that okay?” He was already halfway to his room when he turned back and asked in a lowered voice, “Kid?”
Excuse me?
Who was he underestimating?
What grown woman still wore pink?
“Black. Lace. Wireless. Thanks.” I clenched my fists and glared at him.