Chapter 8

Ethan

I stepped out of room 156 and closed the door behind me. The hallway air felt cooler against my skin. My face still burned from how flushed I was from earlier. I pressed the back of my hand to one cheek and felt the leftover heat there. My lips still tingled from the kiss. I adjusted the camera strap on my shoulder. The thick fabric dug into my skin. Then I walked toward the elevators with steps that felt a little too fast.

The elevator doors opened on the lobby level and the soft piano music reached me again. The smell of coffee and polished marble filled the open space. Jake stood near the seating area, looking at his phone. He glanced up when I got closer.

“There you are,” he said. “I was starting to wonder where you went. You okay? Your face is red.”

I touched my cheek without thinking. The skin felt warm under my fingers. “It’s nothing. It's just warm up on that floor. The air conditioning must have been off or something.”

Jake raised one eyebrow but did not ask more questions. “Alright. We’ve still got more suites to finish before the light changes. Are you ready?”

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

We spent the next few hours moving through the remaining rooms. I focused on the camera and the way the afternoon light fell across the beds and desks. Jake handled the stands and kept the talk light. I answered when I needed to and stayed mostly quiet. Every so often I caught myself touching my lower lip with the side of my thumb. I remembered the pressure of Adrian’s mouth and the faint taste of mint. Each time I forced my hands back to the camera and kept working.

By late afternoon the shoot wrapped up. We packed the gear into the van outside. The evening air felt cooler on my arms. Jake talked about his weekend plans while I locked the last case. I nodded and gave short answers. When he drove away I stood on the sidewalk for a minute and pulled out my phone.

A new message from Adrian was on the screen.

*Are you still coming at six?*

I stared at the words. I felt the lobby doors open and close behind a group of guests as they passed. The phone felt heavy in my hand so I locked the screen without answering and put it back in my pocket.

I walked to a small café two blocks away. The place smelled like roasted coffee and warm pastry. I ordered a cup I did not really want and sat by the window. The ceramic felt hot against my palms. I watched people pass on the sidewalk outside. My phone stayed face down on the wooden table. Every few minutes I turned it over, read the message again, and set it back down.

I told myself I only needed clarification. One more conversation. Clear the boundaries. Nothing else. The thought felt heavy in my chest even as I repeated it. I remembered the way his hand had rested on my neck. I remembered the careful first press of his lips and the way the kiss had deepened before the phone cut it short. My face warmed all over again.

After a long time of hesitation I typed a reply with slow thumbs.

*Not sure yet. If I finish on time I might come by.*

I stared at the sentence for another full minute. My thumb hovered over the send button. Then I hit it. The answer came almost right away.

*Okay. I’ll be here. No pressure.*

I finished the coffee even though it had gone lukewarm. The bitterness lingered on my tongue. Then I stood, left the café, and started walking back toward the hotel. The evening air carried the smell of rain on the pavement. Streetlights were already on. Their glow reflected in the shop windows I passed.

I followed the same path we had taken that morning. Through the lobby. Past the front desk. Into the elevator. The metal walls reflected my face under the mild light. I still looked flushed. I looked away and watched the floor numbers climb.

The elevator stopped on the guest floor. Carpet muffled my steps as I walked down the hallway. The numbers on the doors passed one by one. My heart started beating harder the closer I got to 156. I could hear it in my ears. My hands felt slightly damp. I stopped in front of the door and lifted my hand to knock.

Before my knuckles touched the wood the door opened from the inside.

Marcus stood there.

My ex. The same face I had not seen in months and wanted so desperately to forget. The ssme dark hair, same steady eyes that widened the second they landed on me. We both froze. The hallway suddenly felt too narrow. A faint trace of Adrian’s cologne drifted out from the room behind him.

Marcus recovered first. “Ethan?”

I stared at him. My hand dropped back to my side. Questions crowded in my head at once. What was he doing in Adrian’s room? How did Adrian even know him? What kind of relationship existed between them that Marcus would be walking out of that same door in the evening?

Marcus’s expression shifted from surprise to something more careful. “What are you doing here?”

I could not find an answer yet. I just kept staring at him. The door stayed half open behind his shoulder.