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Never crossed a line.

Never given any reason to think he wanted this.

Last night only happened because we were both drunk. I never would’ve found the courage to provoke him otherwise.

And he never would’ve looked at me the way he did.

“Sel…” he says quietly.

For a split second, I almost stop. Almost turn around. Almost let him finish whatever he wants to say.

Instead, I slip through the door and close it behind me before I lose my composure.

Jesus Christ.

How could I let this happen?

What the hell was I thinking?

How am I supposed to look him in the eye every day now?

I can’t believe the mess I’ve made.

Ashamed and furious with myself, I turn on the shower the second I reach my bathroom, letting the sheet fall to the floor and stepping directly beneath the spray.

I leave the water exactly as it comes—scalding hot—as though the heat can burn away the thoughts crowding my mind.

I wish I could think back on last night with nothing but happiness. But every incredible moment is buried beneath the consequences waiting for me after this morning.

I don’t have an excuse.

I don’t even want one.

From now on, I just need to keep my distance, focus on work, and finish this project as quickly—and as professionally—as possible.

No matter how unfairly attractive Zayn is, no matter how impossible he is to ignore, he’s not someone I can allow myself to want.

Our worlds don’t fit together.

His life moves through cameras, parties, headlines, and constant attention. Mine has always revolved around quiet mornings, deadlines, and building my own empire.

Trying to convince myself otherwise would only end with one of us getting hurt.

Me.

Once my hair is soaked, I work shampoo into it, slowly massaging my scalp until some of the tension begins to ease.

I’ve barely woken up, I have a long day ahead of me, and right now all I want is to get lost in my work.

✨

A few hours later, I’m carrying an armful of wallpaper samples when I hear, “Good morning.”

My heart lurches so violently it almost hurts, heat rushing through every inch of my body.

Literally.

I swear I’m burning alive.