I barely managed to whisper, “Thank you,” before he stepped closer, sending shivers down my spine.
“I want to kiss you again.”
My breath hitched, my mind momentarily blanking.
“No cameras around here,” I murmured, trying to lighten the moment even though my heart was racing.
“Fuck that, I already told you,” he said firmly, stepping closer, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that left no room for misinterpretation. “I want to kiss you because I want to. Nothing else. Understand?”
“Oh,” I managed to squeak, my voice embarrassingly weak.
He smiled faintly at my reaction, his hand brushing against mine like a silent invitation. His touch sent a spark through me, and suddenly Nicola’s words echoed in my mind:Stop overthinking and enjoy it.
For tonight, at least, I decided to do just that.
“I’ll remind you as many times as you need me to, pretty girl.”
A slow smile spread across my lips as I tilted my head to meet his gaze. “Want to get out of here?” I asked, surprising even myself with the boldness of my words.
Alexander paused, his eyes darkening slightly. “More than anything,” he replied, his voice thick with something that made my stomach flutter.
Without hesitation, I reached for his hand, lacing my fingers with his as we made our way through the crowd. The music and lights faded into the background, my world narrowing to the warmth of his hand in mine and the way my heart raced with anticipation. We loaded into the first cab we found, Alexander flagging it down. The ride was short on the way but felt so long on the way back. He asked for the aux cord and played cheesy songs as we bet the other couldn’t remember all the words. I won every bet.
We stumbled into the hotel lobby, our laughter echoing against the polished marble floors. My cheeks ached from smiling so much, my heart thrumming with a mix of nerves and excitement. Everything felt heightened—the buzz of the night still thrumming in my veins, the warmth of Alexander’s hand brushing against mine as we walked side by side, and the way his voice dipped low when he leaned in to speak, like it was meant just for me.
The elevator doors slid open with a quiet chime, and we stepped inside. I pressed the button for our floor, and Alexander leaned casually against the mirrored wall, his gaze fixed on me.
“You had fun tonight,” he said, his voice soft, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
“I did,” I admitted, glancing at him. “It’s been a while since I’ve felt…like this.”
“Like what?” he asked, stepping closer.
I hesitated, the words caught somewhere between my chest and throat. “Light,” I said finally. “Free.”
His hand brushed against mine, his fingers curling gently around mine. “I’m glad,” he murmured, his thumb stroking the back of my hand in slow circles.
The elevator dinged, and the doors opened to our floor. I stepped out, my pulse quickening as I felt him follow close behind me. We walked down the quiet hallway, his presence steady and reassuring, and when we reached our hallway, I turned to face him. Anna was watching Gianna for the night in my room, and all I wanted was this night not to end. We neared our doors, across the hall from each other’s.
“So,” I said softly.
Alexander’s hand found mine, stilling my nervous movements. His touch was warm, grounding, and when I looked up, his eyes were locked on mine, the intensity in his gaze stealing the breath from my lungs.
“Come inside?” he asked, his voice low and rough, like he was struggling to find the right words, holding up his hotel key card.
I swallowed hard, unsure of what to say, what to do. The air between us felt electric, charged with all the things we weren’t saying. I plucked the key card from his hand and unlocked his door. Once inside, the door shut quickly and his hands were on me.
He leaned in and I followed, our lips meeting.
It wasn’t rushed or frantic, it was gentle, deliberate, like he was giving me time to pull away if I wanted to. But I didn’t want to.
His lips brushed against mine, soft and warm, and everything else fell away. The world narrowed to just this moment, just him, and I felt myself leaning into him, my hands finding their way to his chest. His thumb traced the curve of my jaw, before it slid back into my hair. Shivers erupted through me.
“You’re incredible, you know that?” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, once inside his room. “I’ve dreamed of kissing you.”
“You have kissed me before,” I replied.
“No, kissing you for real, not for PR stunts, or pictures or to put on a show. Kissing you and knowing without a single doubt that it was real, because this”—he pointed to the two of us—“is maybe the most important thing to me.” He paused, holding my face in his hands. “I don’t want to lose this, to lose you,” he admitted, and I melted. Right there, a pile of mush on the ground.
