Fake Date, Real Fate-Chapter 292: Love in the Splash Zone

Adrien’s POV

Time slowed to a sickening crawl.

One moment, the roller coaster was cresting the first drop—wind howling, screams ripping through the air—and the next, a warm, wet splat hit the back of my jacket.

Cameron twisted in his seat beside me, eyes wide.

"Did she just—"

"Yes," I said, very slowly.

My wife had just puked on me.

And I couldn’t get to her.

Not with the safety harness locked across my chest.

Not with the machine roaring through loops and drops like some hellish, metallic prison.

The ride plunged into another loop, and Isabella whimpered behind me—followed by frantic, muffled swearing from her friend.

"Oh my God—BELLA, I SWEAR TO GOD—"

The coaster roared through the next inversion, my stomach lurching for entirely different reasons. The smell was—God, the smell was something unholy.

Cameron was laughing. The bastard was laughing, tears streaming down his face, his grip on the safety bar white-knuckled with sheer delight.

"This is the best day of my life," he wheezed.

I inhaled deeply.

Unacceptable.

I clicked my earpiece twice.

A signal.

Two seconds later, a voice crackled through the line:

"Emergency halt in motion, sir. Stopping now."

Good.

The brakes screeched mid-loop.

People screamed again—not from fear, but surprise—as the coaster jolted to a sharp, unnatural stop on the track.

My world narrowed to a single point behind me.

"Is she hurt?" I demanded.

"We’re assessing—"

"NOW."

"Yes, sir."

The ride attendants sprinted up the maintenance stairs like their lives depended on it—because, right now, they absolutely did.

Cameron let out a slow whistle beside me.

"You just shut down an entire roller coaster in six seconds."

I ignored him.

The restraint released with a metallic snap.

Finally.

I stood—slowly, deliberately—bracing one hand on the metal rail as the cart wobbled from the sudden stop.

The stench of vomit hit me.

Mine?

No.

I didn’t care.

Let it burn the shirt right off my back.

I only cared about her.

ISABELLA’S POV

I didn’t just puke.

I detonated.

Everything—every bite of turkey leg, every churro sugar crystal, every molecule of mac-and-cheese—launched itself out of my body with the tragic force of a soul exiting a flesh prison.

And straight onto the poor, innocent man in front of me.

The sound was... wet.

The splash was... undeniable.

The shame was... biblical.

The scream of the roller coaster was nothing—nothing—compared to the scream lodged inside my soul.

Aria gasped so loudly the wind stole half of it.

"Oh my God—BELLA—"

I wanted to die.

No, not die.

Disappear. Spontaneously combust. Detach my spirit from my body and float into the sun.

Another man beside the stranger wheezed like a dying donkey.

"Oh—oh my—ADRI—PFFT—OH GOD—BRO—"

He was laughing so hard I thought he might actually collapse.

"CAMERON SHUT UP—" Aria snapped.

I whipped toward her.

"How do you know his name is Cameron?!"

Aria froze.

Then laughed awkwardly.

"I—I heard the one you puked on call him that! You know I have long ears!"

I stared at her, horrified.

"So you just call strangers by their names? What if they’re criminals?! What if they’re—"

"Oh honey," Cameron wheezed, wiping tears, "trust me, we’re the least of your worries."

Then—

THUNK.

The roller coaster jerked, hard enough to rattle my teeth.

The brakes slammed so suddenly the entire train lurched forward. People screamed—not fun screams, angry screams, the "why is my life being interrupted" screams.

Even Aria shrieked.

Then—

"OH MY GOD," she yelled over the wind, "IS THIS FATE? IS THIS COSMIC INTERVENTION? BELLA, YOU JUST BODY-FLUID-BONDED WITH YOUR FUTURE HUSBAND—"

"ARIA," I croaked, mortified beyond human measure, "shut. up."

But she was vibrating with the enthusiasm of someone who had just watched the universe drop a plot twist in her lap.

"I knew today would be special," she said, breathlessly. "I didn’t know it would be—this. But I support it."

The ride was still.Frozen.

Too frozen.

Amusement parks don’t stop roller coasters mid-drop unless someone died, gave birth, or—apparently—unless I unleashed a digestive apocalypse.

A staff voice echoed through the speakers:

"Please remain seated. We are performing a temporary safety check."

Safety check my ass.I knew what this was.

I threw up.On a stranger.That was enough to traumatize the staff into pulling the emergency brake.

I slumped forward, face buried in my hands, wishing for instant smiting. "I cannot—Aria, I cannot live anymore."

"Oh hush," she said, patting my back like I was a disgraced cat. "Look on the bright side."

"There is no bright side."

"You puked toward someone. That means you trust him. This is bonding."

"I should be jailed."

"And yet," she said, leaning forward like she was observing a rare wildlife event, "I feel like... this is meant to be."

"Why," I whispered, voice cracked with spiritual defeat, "would the universe ever mean for this to be?"

"Because," she said dramatically, "your soul mate is in the front row... covered in your mac-and-cheese smoothie. If that’s not destiny, I don’t know what is."

I whimpered.

People were muttering behind us. Someone gagged. Someone cursed. Someone asked if refunds were possible.

And me?

My stomach was empty, but somehow my soul kept dry-heaving.

The coaster was dead still.

Too still.

Why did it stop this fast?

I swallowed, throat stinging, shame coating every inch of me. "I need to apologize... oh my God, I puked on an actual human being—"

"Yes," Aria said, eyes sparkling. "And he’s probably gorgeous. Fate wouldn’t give you an ugly puke-victim for your grande love story."

"Aria."

"Yes?"

"Please stop matchmaking with bodily fluids."

She grinned.

The ride hissed—some mechanism unlocking—and the staff began approaching the train.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

Because any second now...

I was going to have to face the stranger whose back I baptized with my sins.

I swallowed hard.

Aria elbowed me. "Okay. Moment of truth. Breathe. Smile. Apologize. Maybe faint—fainting is cute if you do it gracefully."

"I don’t faint gracefully," I muttered. "I flop like a dead fish."

She nodded thoughtfully. "Which might still earn sympathy points."

Before I could hit her, the staff reached our section.

"Are you alright?" one of them asked gently, already leaning back from the smell.

No.

I was not alright.

I was a walking biohazard.

"I—I’m fine," I whispered. "I just need to apologize to the person in front—"

He stepped out of his seat before the staff member could help him.

And for a second, time didn’t stop.

It evaporated.

Tall.

Fine build.

Clothes stretched in all the right places.

Hands braced casually on the safety rail like he wasn’t dripping with the disastrous remains of my lunch.

His hair was a little messy from the wind, curling slightly at the ends. His posture alone screamed money, authority, danger.

I didn’t even see his face yet.

I just felt it.

That weird, stomach-twisting jolt people always talk about but I never believed in. Like my body remembered something my mind didn’t.

He turned.

Slowly.

And the world sharpened.

Sharp jaw.

Cold, cutting beautiful amber eyes.

Handsome wasn’t the word.

He looked like a problem.

A very expensive, very emotionally unavailable problem.

And he looked... furious.

Not loud-furious.

Not flailing-furious.

The quiet kind.

The "this man files lawsuits for fun" kind.

The "my life was fine until YOU" kind.

I am so cooked.

His jaw flexed once as he stared at me, drenched and destroyed.

I died.

I ascended.

I came back down because God wasn’t done humiliating me.

"I—" My voice cracked. "I’m so, so, so sorry—"

He blinked once.

Not slow.

Not fast.

Just... controlled.

His eyes stayed locked on me.

So intense my lungs forgot how to function.

The staff approached him with frantic apologies, towels, water, wet wipes, medical spray—everything.

He ignored them.

Ignored all of them.

Except me.

Why?

Why was he looking at me like that?

Why did his gaze feel like recognition?

Like accusation?

Like something older than five minutes ago?

I swallowed hard.

And whispered:

"I really am sorry. I—I didn’t mean to ruin your day—"

The bar lifted.

And everything happened at once.

I tried to stand while still apologizing to him.

My legs immediately decided to audition for a telenovela and gave out under me.

I lurched forward—

—and strong arms caught me.

Not just caught me.

Lifted me.

Effortlessly.

Like I weighed nothing.

I froze.

My palms pushed weakly against a chest. A broad, warm, steady chest.

The scent from earlier hit me again.

Clean. Cool. Familiar.

My throat tightened.

"Put—put me down," I choked, though it sounded about as threatening as a dizzy kitten. "I’m—Aria—ARIA??"

But Aria wasn’t helping.

She was looking at me with huge, apologetic eyes.

"I’m so sorry," she mouthed to me. "Please—just get her somewhere safe. She’s—she’s not usually like this."

"Aria?!" I squeaked. "What do you MEAN ’get her somewhere safe’—are you leaving me with STRANGERS???"

Aria winced. "Bella... he can help you."

"What part of me LOOKS LIKE IT NEEDS A MAN?!" I hissed.

"The part that almost fell off a roller coaster."

I opened my mouth to argue—

Then realized the world was tilting again.

I gripped the front of his shirt on instinct.

His chest moved with a controlled, steady breath.

"Easy," he murmured—LOW, deep, like gravel warmed by sun.

My heart stuttered.

"Sir," I said sharply, because if I didn’t pretend to have dignity I would spontaneously implode, "I appreciate the... arms. Truly. But I’m not being kidnapped today."

"You’re not," he said simply. 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

"Well it feels like a kidnapping."

"You’re safe."

That voice.

Why did that voice—

Why did my body believe him?

The voice. It was... unsettlingly familiar. Like a song I’d heard once, a long time ago, that had somehow burrowed into the corners of my memory. No, not a song. A feeling. A presence.

I pushed against him again, a futile gesture that only served to press me closer. My stomach, though empty, still did a nervous flip. The smell of his cologne, mingled with the faint, sickening after-scent of my own digestive rebellion, was a bizarre, overwhelming combination.

Aria walked beside us, guilt eating her alive. "Bella, he’s not dangerous. Trust me. If anything, you’re the danger—your stomach literally committed a hate crime."

I groaned into my hands.

The Cameron was still laughing behind us.

"Bro, this is the greatest day of my life—"

"Cameron," the man carrying me said low. Warning. Deadly calm.

The Cameron shut up instantly.

Which only confused me MORE.

Who WERE these men??

My head spun.

My pride bled out.

My dignity died.

And still...

Still...

I didn’t fight him.

Not really.

Because somewhere in the back of my mind, in a place I didn’t recognize but my body did—

this felt safe.

Like I knew this warmth.

Like I knew this steadiness.

Like I knew... him.

And that terrified me more than the incident ever could.