Ava couldn't remember the last time she felt so alive after a conversation. It wasn't the kind of excitement that came from a rush of adrenaline or the thrill of a new project. No, this was something different—something deeper. She'd spent the last few days replaying her conversation with Ethan over and over in her mind. There had been an ease in their words, a rhythm that made her feel connected to him in a way she hadn't expected. And yet, as much as she wanted to, she couldn't let herself dive in fully.
It was too risky.
That's what she told herself every time the thought of Ethan crept into her mind—reminding herself that this growing connection between them was a slow burn. She had to be careful. The line between work and personal life could easily blur, especially when the stakes felt so high. She wasn't about to let herself get swept away again, not after everything that had happened before. And besides, he was a Blackwood. A powerful, wealthy heir to one of the most influential families in the city. People like him didn't fall for people like her.
Still, despite the cautionary voice in her head, Ava found herself eagerly anticipating their next meeting. She couldn't deny the chemistry that simmered between them—those little moments when their eyes lingered just a fraction longer, when the conversation seemed to dip into something more intimate, unspoken. The attraction was palpable, and it wasn't just physical. It was the shared understanding between them that made her heart beat just a little faster whenever he was near.
It was a Wednesday evening when Ethan texted her again. This time, the message was simple but had her heart pounding in her chest.
Ethan: "Would you like to come over for dinner tomorrow? I promise there's no business agenda—just a meal and some quiet time. I'd like to spend some time with you, Ava."
She stared at the message for a long moment, the weight of his words sinking in. This wasn't about the project. This was about them.
Ava's mind raced. She couldn't remember the last time a man had asked her to spend time with him without some hidden agenda. Ethan had always been straightforward with her, but there was something about this invitation that felt... intimate. Personal.
Still, doubts swirled in her mind. What does he expect from me? Is this just another thing to keep my attention, or is he really interested in me?
But despite the uncertainty, Ava felt a pull toward him. She knew she'd regret it if she said no.
Ava: "I'd like that. What time?"
His response was almost immediate.
Ethan: "How about 7? I'll cook. I promise it'll be worth your time."
Ava smiled despite herself. Ethan was many things—rich, charming, confident—but she was starting to realize he was also thoughtful. He didn't have to invite her over, and yet he did. She tried to push aside the creeping feeling of vulnerability that threatened to take over and focused instead on the simple fact that she wanted to go.
The next evening, Ava arrived at Ethan's apartment just as the clock struck 7. She had dressed casually, not wanting to overthink things. She wore a simple black dress that was flattering but not too revealing, and she kept her makeup minimal, unsure of what kind of evening this would be.
When she stepped into his apartment, the first thing she noticed was the warmth. Ethan's place was minimalist but cozy, with soft lighting and tasteful décor that reflected his sense of style without feeling ostentatious. It felt welcoming. Comfortable.
Ethan greeted her at the door, dressed in dark jeans and a button-down shirt that was rolled up at the sleeves, giving him a casual yet effortlessly handsome look. He had a glass of wine in hand, and his smile was wide and genuine.
"Hey," he said softly, his eyes lighting up when he saw her. "I'm glad you came."
Ava couldn't help but smile back, a little shy. "Thanks for inviting me."
He motioned for her to follow him into the kitchen. "Dinner's almost ready. Please, make yourself at home."
As she followed him into the kitchen, Ava noticed the effort he'd put into preparing the meal. The table was set with candles, and there was a distinct aroma of something delicious wafting from the stove. Ethan moved effortlessly around the kitchen, clearly at ease in this setting.
"You cook?" she asked, a little surprised. She didn't think someone like Ethan Blackwood would spend time cooking for himself.
He chuckled. "I do. My mother always said that if I wanted to survive the world outside the family's business, I'd need to know how to take care of myself. So... here we are."
Ava was touched by the sincerity in his voice. It was a small thing, but it made her feel like she was seeing a different side of him—one that wasn't about power or status, but about something much more relatable.
"Well," she said with a playful smile, "I'm impressed. I didn't expect you to be a chef."
Don't get too excited," Ethan teased. "It's nothing fancy, but it'll be edible, I promise."
As they sat down to eat, the conversation flowed easily. There was no pressure, no awkwardness—just two people enjoying a quiet evening together. They talked about their favorite foods, shared stories about their families, and joked about the oddities of living in a city as large as New York. There were moments when their gazes lingered just a little too long, when the conversation paused for a heartbeat before they spoke again.
As they finished their meal, Ethan poured them both a glass of wine. They moved to the living room, where soft music played in the background. The setting was calm and intimate, but there was an underlying tension—a slow burn—that neither of them could deny.
Ava took a deep breath, unsure of how to handle the moment. They were alone. The space between them felt charged. She could feel the pull of his gaze, and despite herself, her heart raced.
Thank you for this," she said softly, her voice a little breathless. "It's... nice."
Ethan smiled, his eyes warm. "I'm glad you're enjoying it. I wanted to show you that I don't always live in the world of meetings and expectations. There's more to me than that."
Ava met his gaze, feeling a flutter in her chest. "I think I'm starting to see that."
And that's when it happened. Without either of them saying a word, the air between them shifted. It wasn't rushed. It wasn't forced. But it was undeniable.
Ethan leaned in, his gaze never leaving hers. His hand found hers, the warmth of his fingers sending a shiver up her spine. Ava's breath caught, and before she could second-guess herself, she found herself leaning closer, closing the distance between them.
Their lips met in a soft, tentative kiss. For a moment, everything else faded away—the project, the doubts, the fears. It was just them. The kiss was gentle at first, exploratory, as if they were both testing the waters. But as their connection deepened, the kiss grew more insistent, more passionate.
When they finally pulled away, both were breathless, their faces inches apart. Ethan's thumb brushed against her cheek, his expression a mix of surprise and something more.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice low.
Ava nodded, her heart still racing. "Yeah," she whispered. "I think I am."
There was no turning back now.