As Kara stepped out of the school building, the doors closing behind her with a hollow echo, she paused at the top of the concrete steps.
Her eyes lifted instinctively.
Adam was already there.
He leaned casually against a sleek black Porsche parked near the curb, one foot propped against the tire, phone in hand. The car gleamed beneath the late-afternoon sunlight, polished to a mirror shine. Adam's sleeves were pushed up, forearms dusted with faint traces of dried dirt from practice, his hair still slightly damp from a rushed shower.
He looked effortless—like someone who belonged in scenes people stared at.
As if sensing her gaze, he looked up.
That grin appeared again.
That stupid, unfairlyhandsome grin.
He slipped his phone into his pocket and pushed himself off the car, posture relaxed but eyes focused only on her. Kara felt her chest tighten, her feet moving before her brain caught up, each step forward stiff and robotic.
Adam opened the passenger door for her.
She slid inside, the warmth of the heated black leather seeping into her skin instantly. The interior smelled expensive—leather, something faintly woody, and a clean sharpness she couldn't name. Adam shut the door gently as he slid inside beside her.
When he climbed in, the car felt smaller somehow.
Kara buckled her seatbelt and sat up straight, hands folded neatly in her lap, eyes fixed ahead. Her back hovered just shy of the seat, tension written into her posture.
The engine purred to life.
"So," Adam said, breaking the silence as they pulled away from the curb, "how were your classes today?"
"They were… good," Kara replied, turning her head toward him. "What about yours?"
Adam snorted. "Some dumbass jumped on a desk and started singing while kicking chairs over."
He laughed openly, shoulders shaking.
Kara blinked at him.
She didn't quite understand what was funny—but not wanting to make it awkward, she forced out a small, stiff laugh. It sounded wrong even to her ears.
Adam's laughter faded almost instantly.
"Oh—sorry," he said, glancing at her. "Yeah. Not that funny."
The air thickened.
Kara exhaled slowly, her fingers tightening in her lap.
"So…" she said, voice quiet but steady, "where are we going?"
"I'll show you when we get there," he said. Then, softer, almost thoughtful, "I've never taken anyone before. It's… kind of special to me."
The way he said it—like the words carried weight—made Kara's curiosity bloom.
"Are you sure you're comfortable showing me?" she asked carefully. "We've only known each other a couple months."
Adam glanced at her, smiling—not smug this time. Just honest.
"Yeah," he said. "I am. I think you'd appreciate it more than anyone else ever will."
That settled something inside her.
The city blurred past the windows as the drive stretched on. Buildings gave way to quieter streets, then trees. The hum of the engine and the rhythmic passing of scenery lulled her senses.
Without realizing it, Kara leaned her forehead against the cool glass of the window.
And fell asleep.
Adam noticed almost immediately.
He glanced over, eyes softening as he took in the way her lashes rested against her cheeks, her breathing slow and even. He returned his gaze to his phone, messages lighting up the screen—but his replies were hesitant, fingers hovering before typing anything at all.
Every so often, he looked back at her.
Then the car slowed.
Kara's eyes opened instantly.
The car had stopped.
She blinked, unbuckled, and stepped out after Adam, the air cooler here, tinged with earth and pine. She looked around—trees stretching tall and quiet, shadows lengthening as the sun dipped lower.
Adam didn't touch her. Instead, he offered his hand.
She took it.
They walked together into the woods, leaves crunching softly beneath their steps.
"The sun's setting," Kara said lightly, though caution edged her voice. "You're not planning to murder me, right?"
Adam burst out laughing, loud and genuine.
"Of course not," he said.
They pushed past a curtain of brush—and Adam stopped.
"This," he said quietly. "This is what I wanted to show you."
Kara stepped forward.
And froze.
A vast meadow opened before her, rolling hills blanketed in tall grass and wildflowers swaying gently in the wind. The sun hovered low on the horizon, so close it felt touchable, spilling gold across the land. The sky was painted in layers of pink and lavender, streaked with soft white clouds, birds gliding lazily across the open air.
Her breath hitched.
Wind threaded through her hair, lifting loose strands across her face as petals danced at her feet.
It was breathtaking.
Adam watched her, a smile tugging at his lips.
"Pretty fucking gorgeous, right?"
She didn't answer right away.
"Yeah," she whispered finally.
They sat together at the edge of the hill, grass cool beneath their palms, the sun slowly sinking away.
"It's the most beautiful view I've ever seen," Kara said. "It's… peaceful."
"That's why I love it," Adam replied. "Helps me forget stuff. School. Expectations. My parents."
She turned toward him.
"You never talk about your parents," she said gently. "I've never even seen them when i come over."
Adam was quiet for a moment.
Then he looked at her.
"Well," he asked softly, eyes glinting in the dying light, "do you want to hear about them?"
Kara nodded. "Only if you want to tell me."
Adam smiled.
"Happily."