Emily couldn't shake the feeling that Damian's eyes were still on her long after she left the club. There was something about the intensity of his gaze that stayed with her, lingering beneath her skin even after she climbed into bed that night. The night had been an unexpected whirlwind, and as she stared at the ceiling of her small apartment, her thoughts kept circling back to him—the way he had looked at her like she was the only person in the room, the way his voice had sent shivers down her spine.
She hadn't meant to be swept up so quickly. In fact, she had walked into that club prepared to spend most of the night avoiding people like him—tall, dark, and confident men who always seemed to know exactly what to say. Men who made women feel special, but only for as long as it took to get what they wanted. She'd met enough of them to know that these kinds of men were more dangerous than they seemed. But Damian had been different.
It wasn't just his looks, though they were certainly impossible to ignore. It was the way he made her feel. When he had spoken to her, he'd listened, really listened, as if he cared about every word she said. There had been a depth to his presence, a gravitational pull that made it hard to look away or even think about anyone else. Emily felt drawn to him, like something inevitable was set in motion the moment their eyes met.
She had been so wrapped up in her thoughts that she hadn't noticed the message on her phone until the soft chime broke the silence of the room. Reaching over to the nightstand, she saw a number she didn't recognize. Her heart raced a little as she opened it.
Unknown: I had a great time meeting you tonight. Let's do it again soon. Damian.
Emily's breath caught in her throat. How had he gotten her number? Had Sarah given it to him when she wasn't paying attention? A small part of her felt uneasy, but the larger part of her—the part still buzzing from their encounter—felt excited. She stared at the message for a long time, her thumb hovering over the keyboard, unsure of how to respond.
Emily: It was great meeting you too. Maybe we can.
She hesitated before hitting send, but once she did, a strange sense of exhilaration washed over her. It had been so long since she had felt anything close to excitement over someone new. Maybe this was exactly what she needed, she reasoned. After all, what harm was there in a little flirting?
The next morning, Emily woke to another message from Damian.
Damian: How about dinner tomorrow night? There's this amazing place I know. I promise, best food in town.
She smiled as she read it, her pulse quickening. Damian wasn't wasting any time. She appreciated the directness—it was refreshing compared to the typical games people played when they first met. Still, she had her reservations. She didn't know much about him, and a part of her felt wary of jumping in too quickly. But then again, what was the point of holding back? She had spent so much of her life playing it safe, building walls to protect herself from getting hurt.
Maybe it was time to let someone in. Just a little.
Emily: Sounds great. What time?
The details were set, and as the day of their date approached, Emily found herself growing more nervous than she expected. She spent hours thinking about what to wear, settling on a simple black dress that wasn't too formal but still made her feel confident. As she looked at herself in the mirror, she wondered if Damian would still look at her the same way he had that night in the club. That thought alone sent a small thrill through her.
When Damian picked her up that evening, any lingering doubts quickly melted away. He arrived exactly on time, dressed sharply in a dark blazer and jeans, with that same easy smile that had caught her attention in the first place. There was something about him that radiated control, like he always knew exactly what he was doing and how things would unfold.
"You look stunning," he said as soon as she opened the door.
"Thank you," Emily replied, feeling her cheeks flush under his gaze.
The restaurant Damian had chosen was elegant but cozy, tucked away in a quiet part of the city. It was the kind of place you wouldn't know existed unless someone had told you about it—intimate, candlelit, with tables spaced far enough apart for privacy. The atmosphere felt both romantic and luxurious, and Emily wondered how many women Damian had brought here before her. Still, she couldn't help but feel special sitting across from him.
As they talked over dinner, the conversation flowed easily. Damian was charming and funny, asking all the right questions while sharing just enough about himself to keep her intrigued. He told her about his businesses—something in real estate, though he didn't go into much detail—and how much he loved traveling, experiencing new cultures and places. Emily found herself captivated by his stories, even though they were vague. There was a certain mystery to him, a sense that he was holding something back, but it only made her more curious.
Between sips of wine and bites of their meal, Damian leaned in, his eyes never leaving hers. "You're different, you know," he said softly, his voice low and intimate.
Emily tilted her head, feeling her pulse quicken. "Different how?"
"I don't know yet," he replied, his gaze intense. "But I can feel it. There's something about you… something I need to figure out."
The words sent a shiver down her spine. She could feel the weight of his attention, and it was both exhilarating and a little overwhelming. It was as if Damian had decided she was someone worth discovering, someone worth investing his time and energy into. The thought was intoxicating, and yet, there was a small voice in the back of her mind telling her to slow down, to be careful.
But Damian had a way of making that voice seem distant, insignificant.
As the night went on, they moved from the restaurant to a nearby bar, the conversation shifting from lighthearted topics to more personal ones. Emily told him about her childhood, about how she had grown up in a small town and moved to the city after college, hoping to find something more. Damian listened intently, his focus never wavering, and when she shared the story of her last relationship—how it had ended not in heartbreak but in exhaustion—he didn't judge or pry. He simply listened.
"You deserve better," he said softly, his hand brushing against hers.
Emily felt a warmth spread through her chest at his words. She hadn't realized how much she had needed to hear that from someone. Damian made her feel seen in a way that no one had in a long time, and it was hard not to get swept up in the feeling.
By the time Damian walked her back to her apartment, the city streets were quiet, the night air cool against her skin. They stopped in front of her building, and for a moment, there was a comfortable silence between them.
"I had a really great time tonight," Emily said, looking up at him.
"Me too," Damian replied, his voice soft but steady. He took a step closer, his hand brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. "I'd like to see you again. Soon."
Emily's heart raced as she met his gaze. "I'd like that too."
For a brief second, she thought he might kiss her, but he didn't. Instead, he smiled, leaning in just close enough for her to feel the heat of his breath on her skin. "Goodnight, Emily."
"Goodnight," she whispered, watching as he turned and walked away, disappearing into the night.
Once inside, Emily leaned against the door, her heart still racing. She couldn't stop thinking about him—about his touch, his words, the way he had made her feel both seen and wanted. It was like a dream, the kind of night she had convinced herself didn't exist anymore. And yet, as perfect as it seemed, there was still a small part of her that remained cautious, wary of how quickly everything was moving.
But as she climbed into bed and closed her eyes, her thoughts drifting back to Damian, the excitement drowned out the caution. This was what she had been waiting for, wasn't it? A connection that felt real, intense, and undeniable.
For the first time in a long time, Emily allowed herself to believe that this might be the start of something incredible.
And as she drifted off to sleep, she didn't notice the message lighting up her phone again, a simple text from Damian:
Damian: Can't stop thinking about you.
Continue....