Chapter Three
I kept my eyes focused on the portfolio in front of me, but my mind was far from the designs spread across the table.
Ethan Cross. Of course, I'd end up working with him.
I had tried to forget him. I really had. The fleeting connection we'd shared, the way his touch had set me alight in ways I hadn't expected—it had been intoxicating. But it wasn't supposed to matter. Not to me.
I wasn't the type of person who lingered. I'd spent most of my life avoiding the kind of deep-rooted connection that Ethan seemed to offer without even trying. My job kept me moving, my relationships brief, my walls high. I couldn't afford to get attached to anyone. Not like that.
But as I sat across from him now, all of that resolve felt as flimsy as the paper beneath my fingers.
His presence was overwhelming, even in a room full of people. His dark eyes, the way his jaw tightened when he was focused, the careful calm he projected—it all called to something inside me I didn't want to acknowledge. He was the kind of man who had everything under control, who could offer stability, certainty, and a future. The very things I had spent my life running from.
I could feel his gaze on me, but I refused to meet it. I couldn't. Not yet. Not when everything in me screamed to turn and ask him about the night we shared—the kiss, the laughter, the way his hands had held me like I was something he might lose if he let go.
Some connections are meant to last just one night, I reminded myself, feeling the note's words like a brand across my skin. It had been a momentary escape. Nothing more.
But why couldn't I shake the feeling that it had meant more than that?
The meeting dragged on, and I buried myself in the designs. I scribbled notes, nodded when needed, but inside, my heart was still caught in the aftershocks of last night. Ethan wasn't like the men I usually met on my travels—he wasn't temporary, and he wasn't trying to change me. In fact, it was the exact opposite.
I noticed how he kept his distance, like he was afraid I'd slip away again, and in some strange way, I wanted to reassure him that I wasn't going anywhere. That maybe—just maybe—there was a future for us, if only we dared to admit it.
But I couldn't do that. Not yet.
After the meeting ended, I grabbed my things quickly, feeling the weight of his presence in the room as I moved to leave. I didn't want him to see the way my hands trembled when I gripped my notebook, the way my pulse quickened when our eyes met for just a second.
I stepped out into the hallway, my chest tight.
"Aria."
His voice followed me, firm but hesitant.
I turned, bracing myself against the wall. There was a part of me that wanted to run, to keep avoiding whatever this thing between us was, but another part—something I hadn't listened to in years—yearned to see where this could go.
He stood a few feet away, his eyes searching mine like he was trying to decipher a language he hadn't learned. "What are we doing here, Aria?"
I swallowed. "I don't know what you mean."
He took a step closer, and for the first time, I saw the cracks in his composure. There was a vulnerability in his eyes that mirrored my own. "I don't believe in coincidence. And I don't believe we met last night by accident."
The air between us thickened, and for a moment, all I could hear was the thudding of my own heartbeat.
"I know I shouldn't," I began, my voice barely above a whisper. "But I can't stop thinking about you. About last night."
Ethan's expression softened, his posture relaxing as he stepped even closer. "I can't either."
There it was—the truth, raw and undeniable. Neither of us had expected it, but somehow we were standing on the edge of something neither of us could quite name.
I took a breath, pulling away slightly, needing space. "But I'm not here to stay, Ethan. You know that. I can't promise anything more than what we had."
His face tightened at the mention of "promise," but he nodded slowly. "I get it. But I'm not asking for promises. I just... I want to see where this goes."
I looked into his eyes, and for the first time, I didn't want to run.
Maybe I wasn't ready for everything, but I could take a step. Just one.
"I'll see you around, Ethan." I forced a smile, trying to push aside the rawness I felt inside.
But as I turned to leave, I knew one thing for sure: no matter how hard I tried to run, this—whatever this was—had already changed me.