Chapter 7

Ethan

Adrian leaned in, but his mouth did not meet mine. Instead his full lips brushed close to my ear. His breath felt warm against my skin.

“Let’s get out of here,” he whispered. “I know you don’t want people staring.”

My heart was still slamming hard in my chest. I could feel the heat rising in my face. Part of me wanted to stay rooted to the marble floor, to tell him to leave. Another part already knew I was going to follow him. I gave a short nod. My voice would not work yet, not with the growing heat in me.

He stepped back just enough to turn, then glanced over his shoulder to make sure I was coming. I picked up my camera bag with hands that felt slightly unsteady and walked after him. The lobby noise faded behind us as we moved toward the elevators. Soft piano music still played, but it sounded farther away now. Jake was nowhere in sight.

Adrian pressed the button for the upper floors. We stood side by side in silence while the elevator rose. The metal walls reflected both of us under the soft light. I could still smell his cologne. Sandalwood mixed with the clean hotel air. My pulse had not slowed. Every few seconds I swallowed hard, trying to keep my breathing even.

The elevator doors opened on the first guest floor. Adrian led the way down a quiet hallway. The carpet floor muffled our footsteps as we walked. Numbered doors lined both sides of the hallway. He stopped in front of room 156 and pulled a key card from his pocket. The lock clicked open. He held the door open and waited.

I stepped inside. The room was neat and simple. A wide bed with white sheets. A desk by the window. Soft daylight coming through the sheer curtains. The door closed behind us with a quiet thud.

“What are we doing here?” I asked. My voice came out lower than usual.

Adrian set his bag down by the desk and turned to face me. “We have to talk, don’t we?”

He took a slow step closer. The space between us felt smaller in the quiet room. “Before your official shoot begins and my conference starts. You don’t want them looking for you, do you?” His tone stayed soft, almost playful at the edges, but the look in his eyes was steady and serious.

I gulped. The sound felt loud in the still air. “Adrian…”

“I know.” He raised one hand slightly, palm open, as if to show he was not rushing anything. “We can just talk. That is all I am asking for right now.”

I set my camera bag on the floor near the wall and stayed standing. My shoulders felt tight. “Okay. Let's talk.”

Adrian moved to the edge of the bed and sat down. He rested his forearms on his knees and looked up at me. “Come sit if you want. Or stay there. Whatever feels better.”

I stayed on my feet for another few seconds, then walked over and sat on the opposite side of the bed. The mattress dipped under my weight as I sat down. A small stretch of white sheet separated us.

“It was hard,” he said after a moment. “Harder than I let myself admit at the time. Sitting across from you in that office every week. Listening to you talk about your days, your memories, the things that kept you up at night. And then later, under a different name, hearing even more. Watching you open up in messages the way you never quite did in the sessions.”

I watched his face. “You could have stopped.”

“I should have.” He nodded once. “Every single time I told myself that was the last late-night conversation. Then your name would light up the screen and I would answer anyway. I told myself I was helping. That you needed someone outside the therapy room. But the truth is I wanted those talks. I looked forward to them, I like how I felt closer to you. I liked the way your words felt when the professional wall was not between us.”

My hands rested on my thighs but I didn't resist the touch. “Did you ever think about what would happen if I found out?”

“All the time,” he said. “Especially toward the end. I kept rehearsing how I would tell you. I never found the right moment. Then the phone rang in the office and the choice was taken away from me.”

Silence settled for a few seconds. “What about now?” I asked. “You are not my therapist anymore. You referred me out. So what is this?”

Adrian’s eyes stayed on mine. “This is me being honest. I care about you, Ethan. More than the professional rules allowed. More than I planned for. When I saw you in the lobby today trying to pretend I was not there, it hit me how much I did not want to keep the distance.”

I let out a slow breath. “You make it sound simple when you say it like that.”

“It is not simple.” He shifted slightly on the bed. The mattress moved. “I know that. You have every right to be angry. To walk out of this room and never speak to me again. I would understand.”

“I am still angry,” I said. “Part of me is. But another part keeps remembering how easy it felt to talk to you at night. How much those messages helped.”

“I remember too.” His voice dropped a little lower. “I remember every one of them.”

The air in the room felt warmer. I could hear my own breathing. Adrian’s hand rested on the sheet between us. His fingers were relaxed, not reaching yet.

“What do you want from me?” I asked.

“Right now? For you to stay in this room a little longer. To keep talking. To stop running for a few more minutes.” He paused. “And if you decide you want more than talking, I will not pretend I do not want that too.”

My throat worked as I swallowed again. Heat spread across my chest. The dreams rose without warning again, his mouth on my neck, the weight of his hands, the sound of his voice low against my skin. Sitting this close made those images feel sharper.

Adrian watched me carefully. “You do not have to decide anything big today. We can just sit here.”

I nodded once, but neither of us moved away. The quiet stretched. Then he shifted closer by a few inches. The sheet wrinkled between us. I did not pull back.

“Ethan,” he said softly.

“Yeah.”

“Can I kiss you?”

The question hung in the air. My heart slammed harder. I looked at his mouth, then back at his eyes. The same lips I had imagined so many times were right there. They were real this time.

“Yes,” I said. The word came out quiet but clear.

He leaned in slowly. His hand came up and rested lightly against the side of my neck. His thumb brushed my jaw. The first touch of his mouth against mine was careful. Soft. Testing. I felt the warmth of it all the way down my spine. My eyes closed. My hand found the front of his jacket without thinking.

The kiss deepened a little. His lips moved against mine with more certainty. I tasted a faint hint of mint. His other hand settled on my waist. The contact sent another wave of heat through me. I kissed him back, with more pressure now. The nerves were still there, tight in my stomach, but the pull was stronger.

We stayed like that for a long moment. Learning the shape of each other. His fingers slid into my hair. I leaned into him. A soft sound escaped my throat when his mouth angled differently and the kiss grew hungrier.

Then his phone rang.

The sharp sound disturbing the quiet room. We both froze for a sec, then Adrian pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against mine for a second. His breathing was uneven. Mine matched it.

He reached into his pocket and looked at the screen. “Conference,” he said. His voice sounded rougher now. “They need me downstairs.”

I sat back slightly. My lips still tingled from the heated kiss. My pulse had not calmed.

Adrian stood and adjusted his jacket. He looked at me for a long second. “We were not finished talking.”

“No,” I agreed.

“Come back around six,” he said. “Same room. If you want to. We can pick up where we left off. No pressure. But I would like it if you did.”

I nodded. My voice felt unsteady when I answered. “Okay.”

He walked to the door, then turned back once more. “Six o’clock, Ethan.”

The door closed behind him with a soft click. I stayed on the edge of the bed for another minute. The room felt larger without him in it. My hands were still slightly shaky. I could still feel the place where his mouth had been on mine.

I picked up my camera bag, took one last look at the empty room, and stepped into the hallway. The shoot was waiting. So, six o’clock it was.

I did not know yet what would happen when I came back. But I already knew I was going to show up.