Chapter 6 – A Bad Start

The cold wind hit my face the moment I stepped out of the bar. I looked left and right, scanning the sidewalk. She was already at the edge of the street, wrapping a scarf around her neck, clearly in a rush to leave.

“Wait,” I called.

She stopped, stiffened, and turned slowly.

Her eyes met mine again—wide, guarded, unreadable. For a brief second, something flashed across her face. Surprise? Annoyance? Fear? I wasn’t sure. Whatever it was, it disappeared quickly.

“I already said no,” she said, voice cold. “I don’t need a ride.”

“I’m not here to offer you one,” I answered.

She raised her eyebrows. “Then what do you want?”

I hesitated. I didn’t want to scare her off, but I needed to be sure.

“I just want to talk.”

She looked like she wanted to roll her eyes. “Look, if this is some new tactic to flirt, it’s not working.”

I stepped closer, careful not to push too much. “I think I know you.”

That got her attention.

Her lips pressed into a line. “No. You don’t.”

“You sure?” I asked.

“Very sure.”

Her reaction didn’t match what I expected. She wasn’t pretending. There was no flicker of recognition. Only irritation.

“You remind me of someone,” I said, trying to keep my tone light.

“Well, I’m not her,” she snapped.

I searched her face, her voice, her scent—still the same warm pull that had haunted me for years. I couldn’t shake the feeling.

“You were at a hotel... five years ago,” I said slowly.

She narrowed her eyes. “What hotel?”

“In the city. That night it rained. I think we... I think I met you there.”

She stared at me for a second, then let out a small, breathy laugh that wasn’t funny at all. “Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said. “I’ve worked a lot of jobs. I’ve cleaned hotels. I’ve sung in bars. I’ve delivered food. But none of that means I’ve ever met you.”

“You don’t remember anything from that night?” I asked, still hoping for something. A clue. A mistake.

The wind tugged her hair across her cheek. Her lips parted, like she wanted to yell, but something held her back.

“You were at the hotel,” I continued. “The night of the storm. You wore a maid’s uniform. You—”

She slapped my hand away before I could reach for her. “I don’t know what kind of delusion you’re under, but I’m not interested in playing games with rich men who think they can talk like that.”

“I’m not guessing,” I said softly. “I know it was you.”

Her voice dropped to a hiss. “You’re insane.”

Her eyes grew hard. “You’re really trying this angle, huh? What is this supposed to be? A game? Some weird rich guy story? You think it’s romantic to hint at a mysterious past and pretend we shared some fate?”

My jaw tightened. “It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it?” she said sharply. “You think just because I got on stage wearing something ridiculous, it means I want your attention? Or that I belong to you somehow?”

Her words were sharp, cutting into me fast. I didn’t mean to upset her. But I couldn’t stop now.

“I just thought your voice sounded familiar,” I said more gently. “And something about your scent—”

“Stop!” she shouted.

People nearby glanced at us.

I froze.

“You’re insane,” she said, backing away a little. “Talking about my voice, my scent? What are you? Some kind of stalker?”

My lips parted, but I couldn’t say anything. I hadn’t meant to make it sound like that. I just—felt something. Deep and real.

She looked me over, eyes narrowing even more. “Let me guess. You’re rich. You’re used to getting what you want. You saw some girl who wasn’t throwing herself at you, and now you’re obsessed.”

“That’s not true.”

“Then what do you want from me?” she said. “You don’t even know my real name.”

I stayed quiet. Because she was right. I didn’t know her name.

But I knew her. Or at least... I thought I did.

She gave a bitter laugh. “Figures. You want to play pretend. Toss out some deep memory and see if I’ll fall for it. Maybe get me into your car, take me somewhere expensive, pretend I’m special—and then disappear when you get bored.”

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to,” she said. “I’ve seen your type before. Pretty face, cold eyes, money in your pocket, and no care for anyone but yourself.”

Her words hit harder than I expected.

“I thought you were someone I lost,” I said finally. “That’s all.”

“Well, you’re wrong.” She took a step back. “Go chase someone else.”

She turned and walked away without another word.

I didn’t stop her this time.

I stood there, staring after her as she disappeared into the crowd, her scarf fluttering in the wind.

My hands clenched at my sides. My chest burned—not from her words, but from the way I handled things. I came out too strong. Too fast. I should’ve waited. Thought it through.

Why did I think I could just walk up to her and she’d remember everything?

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I’d imagined the whole thing.

Or maybe... she was lying.

Still, that didn’t change how I looked. How I sounded. That night, she hadn’t seen me clearly. The lights were off. I never gave her my name. If she was the same girl from that night, she really had no idea who I was now.

And I’d just ruined my chance to find out.

I dragged a hand through my hair and let out a sigh.

“I messed that up,” I muttered.

My wolf inside me growled softly—not angry at her, but at me.

For pushing.

For rushing.

For thinking something as fragile as truth could survive a conversation like that.

Now, I was left with nothing but more questions and her angry voice echoing in my head.

She thought I was a joke. A predator.

And I had no idea how to change that.