Chapter 3: Good friend requests one night stand with your girlfriend again

“No.” Eranthe answered, though she still could not quite understand what Colin actually wanted from her.

Surely, he was not expecting her to sit down and calmly revisit what had happened the previous night as if it were something that required analysis or conclusion.

At her response, Colin let out a low chuckle. His expression remained as indifferent as ever, yet the faint curve of his lips made the moment feel subtly out of place.

“You didn’t seem this cautious last night,” he said, his tone even, but there was something beneath it—something restrained.

There was a brief silence before Eranthe finally lifted her gaze to meet his.

“If I remember correctly, Mr. Rodriguez, what happened last night was entirely mutual. You’re not planning to go back on that now, are you?”

She had already settled the matter in her mind. Dylan had crossed a line first, and she had responded accordingly. Choosing Colin—someone Dylan would never dare provoke—had been intentional, even if impulsive.

What she had not anticipated was how quickly Colin would step back into her life, as if that one night had not been accidental at all.

Colin did not answer immediately. His eyes lingered on her, steady and unhurried, yet there was a depth in that gaze that made her instinctively tense, as though she were being quietly assessed.

“Would you consider something more… long-term?” he asked at last.

The question caught her off guard in a way she had not expected. For a moment, she simply stared at him, unsure whether she had heard correctly.

Given everything she knew about him, this was not something she had ever imagined he would propose.

“I refuse,” she replied without hesitation.

At that exact moment, her phone vibrated. The number was unfamiliar, but before she could reject it, a message appeared.

[ Not answering? I’m waiting at your building entrance. Try not coming back. ]

[ Don’t think being with him means anything. Do you really believe he would take you seriously? ]

The tone was unmistakable.

Dylan.

Eranthe’s expression cooled slightly as she read the message. After a brief pause, she exhaled quietly, then, almost without thinking, placed her hand lightly against Colin’s thigh.

“I think I should take that back,” she said, her voice lower now, more deliberate. “Do you want to come to my place?”

Even as she said it, a faint unease surfaced in her chest, as though she had just stepped into something she did not fully understand.

Inside the elevator, the mirrored walls reflected them standing side by side, separated only by a small suitcase, yet the distance between them felt anything but clear.

Eranthe gradually became aware of a subtle shift in the air, something intangible yet impossible to ignore. It was not merely the aftermath of the night before, but something deeper, something that made her acutely conscious of him in a way that felt almost instinctive.

That strange sensation returned—the same one she had felt earlier in the car.

It was as though something unseen had fixed its attention on her, quiet and patient, waiting.

Compared to Dylan’s obvious aggression, Colin’s silence carried a far more unsettling pressure, one that did not need to announce itself to be felt.

When the elevator stopped and several people stepped inside, Eranthe instinctively shifted backward to create space, yet before she could fully move away, a firm hand settled at her waist, holding her in place.

The contact was controlled, not forceful, yet there was a quiet authority in it that left no room for resistance.

She stiffened slightly.

That faint scent returned again—subtle, unfamiliar, something deeper than any cologne. It reminded her of something she could not quite name, something raw and untamed hidden beneath refinement.

In the mirror, Colin still appeared composed and distant, his posture relaxed, his expression calm, as if nothing at all was happening.

No one would have guessed how close he actually stood.

“Aren’t you going to work today?” a neighbor asked casually, glancing between them. “Your boyfriend?”

Eranthe did not respond, her expression tightening ever so slightly.

“We’re just friends,” Colin answered calmly.

The neighbor smiled knowingly. “Of course. I understand.”

Eranthe said nothing.

Fortunately, the elevator reached her floor soon after.

“We’re here,” she said quietly.

Colin acknowledged with a low hum before picking up her suitcase with one hand, while the other remained lightly at her side, guiding her out through the crowd.

The corridor was quiet.

Only two apartments.

The moment the door opened, something shifted.

Before she could fully step inside, she felt herself pressed back against the entryway. The door closed behind them with a soft but final sound, and the motion-sensor lights flickered on.

Colin stepped closer, not hurried, but deliberate.

“Just friends?” he repeated, his voice low, almost conversational, though the undertone had changed.

His hand moved slowly along her side, controlled, unhurried, yet leaving her no real chance to retreat.

“Is this how you treat your friends?”

The thin fabric yielded too easily under his touch, and when he lifted her slightly, drawing her closer, Eranthe found herself forced to meet his gaze.

“Why the sudden change of mind?” he asked.

She did not answer immediately.

There was no simple explanation.

Dylan’s threats, his presence, the suffocating control he tried to impose—choosing Colin had felt like the only viable option in that moment.

And yet now, standing this close, she could not ignore the strange sense of danger that surrounded him.

It was not obvious.

It was something quieter.

Something that made her instinctively aware that she was no longer entirely in control.

Her fingers moved unconsciously along his shoulder, tracing a slow line, as if testing whether he was real, while her breathing gradually became uneven.

There was something different about him.

Not just the way he looked at her.

Something deeper.

Something that made her feel as though she had already stepped into unfamiliar territory.

Colin’s gaze darkened almost imperceptibly.

For a brief moment, something within him shifted.

It was subtle, but real.

He could feel it clearly.

The restraint he had relied on for years was being tested, pulled tight by something far more instinctive than reason. Her proximity, her scent, even the rhythm of her breathing stirred a reaction he did not entirely welcome.

He tightened his hold just enough to ground himself.

“Do you want to tell me the truth,” she asked quietly, “or something else?”

Colin exhaled slowly, adjusting his grip as he shifted her position slightly, supporting her weight with one hand. His movements remained controlled, yet carried an unmistakable certainty.

“The truth,” he said.

She hesitated, lowering her voice. “Then don’t forget—”

He did not let her finish.

Instead, he reached for his wallet and handed it to her.

“Handle it.”

Eranthe paused briefly before opening it, her expression changing almost immediately.

Of course.

No matter how composed a man appeared, there were always things he prepared for.

Colin did not explain.

From the moment he followed her here, he had not intended to leave anything unfinished.

The distance between them disappeared completely, and the air seemed to thicken, their breathing gradually falling into an overlapping rhythm that made it difficult to separate one from the other.

Whatever resistance remained dissolved quietly, not through force, but through something far more subtle.

The phone rang again.

Sharp. Persistent.

Cutting through everything.

Eranthe frowned, already knowing who it was.

Dylan.

Colin’s expression shifted slightly, a trace of impatience surfacing as he reached out and pressed the answer button.

The voice on the other end came through immediately, strained and aggressive.

“Eranthe, you finally answer? You brought him upstairs, didn’t you? What exactly are you doing with him? Do you even understand what you’re doing?”

Colin lowered his gaze slightly, his expression turning colder.

Dylan continued, unaware.

“Without me, you won’t get anywhere in that company. You still want that promotion? Then send him away. Right now.”

Silence followed.

Then Colin spoke.

His voice was low, controlled, and carried a quiet weight that made the space itself feel still.

“Say that again.”