No. He wasn't wrong. And that was terrifying.
"I don't even know your name."
"Kai." His thumb brushed across my pulse point, and I knew he could feel how fast my heart was racing. "What do I call you?"
"Does it matter?"
"Not really." His smile turned wicked. "I'll probably just call you whatever I want anyway."
"That's incredibly arrogant."
"It's honest." He tugged me slightly closer. "So? Do I get a name, or do I pick one?"
"Aria."
"Aria." The way he said it, slow and deliberate, made my name sound like something intimate. "That's beautiful. Fits you."
"You can't know that. You just met me."
"Then prove me wrong." His hand slid from my wrist to my waist, fingers pressing against my hip through the thin fabric of my shirt. "Tell me I'm wrong, Aria. Tell me you're not running from something. Tell me tonight isn't about feeling alive for the first time in your life."
I couldn't. Because he was right about all of it.
"I'm grieving." The words slipped out before I could stop them. "My mom died a week ago."
His expression shifted slightly. Softened. "I'm sorry."
"Everyone's sorry." I laughed, but it came out bitter. "Sorry doesn't change anything. Doesn't bring her back. Doesn't make me feel less like I'm drowning."
"Is that why you're here? Trying not to drown?"
"I'm here because I'm tired of being perfect." The tequila was making me honest. Reckless. "Tired of doing what everyone expects. Tired of living my life for everyone else while mine just... disappears."
"Then stop."
"It's not that simple."
"It's exactly that simple." His hand tightened on my waist. "You just don't want it badly enough yet."
"You don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't I?" His eyes burned into mine. "I know what it's like to be trapped by other people's expectations. I know what it'slike to wake up one day and realize you're living someone else's life. And I know what it takes to break free."
"And what's that?"
"Being willing to burn it all down." His voice was rough now. "Being willing to take what you want and damn the consequences."
"That's easy to say when you don't know what the consequences are."
"You're right. I don't know your life. Don't know what you're running from or what you're risking by being here." His other hand came up to cup my face, thumb brushing across my cheekbone. "But I know you. I've seen that look before—the one you're wearing right now. Like you're drowning and you just realized no one's coming to save you."
"And what? You're offering to save me?"
"No." His forehead dropped to mine. "I'm offering to teach you how to save yourself."
My breath caught. We were so close now I could feel his body heat, smell whatever expensive cologne he was wearing mixed with something darker. Him.
"And how would you do that?"
