All Chapters of Your Lips to Mine #6: Skybound Hearts: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

I had always been good at building walls. It was something I mastered long ago, a survival skill that kept me from falling apart when the world felt too overwhelming. When you’ve spent years keeping people at arm’s length, protecting yourself becomes second nature. But lately, my defenses weren’t holding up as well as they used to. And the reason was Adrian Blackwell. Ever since our lives had started overlapping, he’d been taking up more space in my head than I wanted to admit. It wasn’t just the intensity of his gaze or the way his voice seemed to wrap around me like a warm blanket. It was the cracks he revealed, the moments when he let his guard down and showed me pieces of himself that felt startlingly familiar. It was unnerving. I had worked so hard to create a life that felt safe, a life where I was in control. My job as a flight attendant wasn’t just something I loved; it was my anchor. It gave me purpose and structure, kept me moving forward when everything else felt uncert

I wasn’t expecting to see him again so soon. After last night, I thought we’d both retreat to our corners, giving each other space to process the vulnerability we’d shared. But Adrian had other plans. I was setting up for the day, going through my usual motions of work, when I felt a presence behind me. Turning around, I saw him standing there—his suit a little less polished, his tie slightly askew. His expression, though, was what struck me. He looked... uncertain. It was a strange look on Adrian Blackwell. “Can we talk?” he asked, his voice low. I glanced around, unsure of what to do. “Adrian, this isn’t really the time—” “Please,” he interrupted, his tone uncharacteristically earnest. “It’s important.” The urgency in his voice made me pause. Reluctantly, I nodded, gesturing for him to follow me to a quieter corner. Once we were alone, I crossed my arms, trying to steel myself for whatever was coming. “What’s this about?” I asked. He took a deep breath, as if gathering his t

The days following our conversation felt like walking on a tightrope—every step I took, every glance I stole in Adrian’s direction, felt uncertain, as though something was about to give way. Adrian’s company was in turmoil. The weight of it hung over him like a dark cloud, and it wasn’t just his business that seemed to be crumbling. It was everything around him. I could see the stress on his face, the tightness in his jaw, the way his eyes lost their usual spark. His world was slipping out of his control, and it was happening fast. But the real kicker was how he started to shut me out. At first, I didn’t notice it. The little things, the slight distance between us, the way his phone seemed to ring more than usual, his meetings stretching late into the night, kept me distracted enough that I didn’t realize the shift. But soon, the silence between us became too loud to ignore. The texts I sent went unanswered. The phone calls were met with curt responses. When we did spend time togeth

The moment the kiss was splashed across the tabloids, everything changed. I should have expected it. Adrian and I weren’t exactly flying under the radar. But there was a world of difference between reading about celebrities and actually becoming one of the subjects. When the pictures of us—of him kissing me, of us together—went viral, it felt like the universe turned upside down. The media latched onto it like hungry wolves, and I could feel their eyes on me at every turn. I had never been one to seek attention. In fact, I’ve spent most of my life avoiding it. But now? Now, it felt like I couldn’t escape it, like every movement I made was under a microscope. Every word I said was dissected and analyzed. The worst part? It wasn’t just about me anymore. It was about us. About Adrian and me. The headlines didn't care about who I was, what I wanted, or what I was capable of. They only cared about one thing—my relationship with Adrian. "Isla Whitmore: The Gold Digger?" "Adrian Pierce’s

The days following that conversation were hard. The weight of everything—Adrian’s business troubles, the media storm, and the constant pressure from all directions—felt like it was starting to crush me. But it wasn’t just that. It was what Adrian’s pain had been doing to us. I could feel him retreating again, like he was bracing for something, like he was trying to protect himself, even if it meant shutting me out. It scared me. I knew that I loved him. That wasn’t the issue. I was starting to realize, though, that loving him didn’t mean losing myself. Somewhere between the craziness of everything that had been happening, I had lost track of what I needed, of what I was willing to tolerate, of what I could give without it draining me. I needed space. Space to think. To reflect. And I needed to remind myself that, while Adrian was becoming such an integral part of my life, I couldn’t lose myself in his world. So, I took a step back. A small one, but one that was necessary. I knew Ad