Chapter 2: One Night, No Promises

The stranger's smile widened.

"Only when they look like they're about to throw their drink at me."

I glanced at my glass. "I haven't decided yet."

"Fair enough."

He lifted both hands in surrender, but that amused look never left his face.

Annoying. Very annoying.

And unfortunately, he was gorgeous.

"So," he said, leaning against the bar, "rough night?"

"Do you ask everyone that, or do I look particularly miserable?"

"A little of both."

I let out a laugh before I could stop myself.

Great. Now he was making me laugh. The man had been talking for barely two minutes, and I was already giving him more attention than I'd given myself all week.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Ethan."

"Mia."

He held out his hand. I took it, and his fingers closed around mine for a second longer than necessary.

"Mia," he repeated, like he was testing how it sounded.

I pulled my hand back before I started acting stupid.

"So, Ethan, what do you do when you're not judging strangers at parties?"

"Business."

I raised an eyebrow. "That's vague."

"You're not exactly telling me what you do either."

"Interior design."

"That sounds more interesting than business."

"That's because you probably have a boring job."

He laughed. A real laugh, not the polite kind people used when they wanted something.

I liked it more than I should have.

We spent the next few minutes arguing about whether money made people happier. He seemed to think it solved more problems than people admitted, while I insisted that having money didn't mean much if you had to keep wondering whether someone actually cared about you.

He watched me closely.

"Someone hurt you."

My smile slipped.

"Wow. And here I thought you were just handsome."

He chuckled, but he didn't push. "I didn't mean to pry."

"It's fine."

It wasn't, really. But I didn't want to spend my evening talking about Daniel.

Ethan seemed to understand that. He changed the subject, asking about my work, and for once, I didn't feel like I had to make myself sound impressive.

I told him about the presentation I was preparing, the promotion I wanted, and how my manager still wasn't convinced I was ready.

"Are you?" he asked.

I blinked. "Ready?"

"Yeah."

I expected him to reassure me. Tell me I was talented, that I could do anything if I believed in myself.

Instead, he waited for my answer.

"I think I am," I said finally. "I just need someone to give me a chance."

"Then make it difficult for them to say no."

I stared at him.

"What?"

"Your work. Make it so good they can't ignore it."

I rolled my eyes. "You make it sound easy."

"I didn't say it was easy."

Something about the way he said it made me look at him again. He wasn't laughing now.

For a moment, I wondered what his life was really like. He carried himself like someone used to being listened to, but there was something guarded about him too. Whenever the conversation drifted toward his personal life, he gave me just enough to keep me curious without actually telling me anything.

"So, what about you?" I asked. "What's your big problem?"

He took a sip of his drink.

"People usually want something from me."

"That's not a problem. That's called being popular."

"Trust me. It's not the same thing."

I studied his face. He looked serious, almost tired.

I knew that feeling. Being useful to people. Being the one who showed up, helped out, paid for things when necessary, and swallowed her own problems because somebody else needed her.

"You ever get tired of being the person everyone depends on?" I asked.

His eyes met mine.

"More than you know."

For a second, neither of us spoke.

Then my phone lit up on the bar.

Daniel.

I didn't even need to open the message to know who it was from. My stomach tightened anyway.

Ethan glanced at the screen, then back at me.

"Someone you need to answer?"

"No."

I turned the phone facedown.

"Someone you don't want to answer," he corrected.

I gave him a look. "You're very observant. Does that come with the business job?"

"Occupational hazard."

I laughed again, and just like that, the knot in my chest loosened.

For the first time in days, I wasn't wondering what Daniel was doing or whether he was thinking about me. I wasn't trying to work out how to stretch my money until payday.

I was just standing beside a handsome stranger, talking nonsense and enjoying myself.

It felt good.

Maybe I needed this more than I'd admitted.

By the time the party started winding down, I had lost track of how long Ethan and I had been talking.

Tessa had sent me two messages asking where I was. I replied that I was fine and promised to find her before leaving.

Ethan watched me tuck my phone away.

"Your friend?"

"Yeah. She's probably wondering if I've been kidnapped."

"Should I be worried about that?"

"Depends. Are you a kidnapper?"

He pretended to think about it. "Not tonight."

I laughed, shaking my head.

He walked me toward the quieter side of the room, away from the music and the crowd. I should've gone to find Tessa, but neither of us seemed in a hurry to end the evening.

"So," he said, slipping his hands into his pockets, "are you going to let me see you again?"

The question caught me off guard.

I looked up at him. "You don't waste time, do you?"

"I prefer being clear about what I want."

"And what do you want?"

His gaze held mine.

"You. At least for tonight."

My heart gave an annoying little jump.

It had been a long time since a man had looked at me like that without making me feel as though I needed to earn his attention.

Still, I hesitated.

I wasn't looking for a relationship. I barely had my own life together, and I certainly wasn't ready to start planning a future with another man.

But maybe that was the point.

For once, I didn't want to plan anything.

"I don't want promises," I told him.

"Then I won't make any."

"And I'm not looking for anything serious."

"Neither am I."

He said it so easily that I almost smiled.

Maybe we were both tired of people expecting things from us. Maybe one night without explanations was exactly what we needed.

I looked at his outstretched hand.

Then I took it.

I woke up with sunlight on my face and a strange arm resting across my waist.

For a few seconds, I didn't move.

Then the memories came rushing back.

The party. Ethan. The way we'd kept looking at each other even when there was no reason to. The decision I'd made without talking myself out of it a hundred times.

Oh, God.

I slowly turned my head.

Ethan was asleep beside me, his hair messy, his face relaxed. He looked younger like this. Less guarded.

And even more handsome, which was honestly unfair.

I looked away before I did something embarrassing, like smile at him while he slept.

Last night had been good. Better than good.

But it was one night.

I had a job to save, rent to pay, and a broken relationship to recover from. I couldn't afford to get distracted by a man I'd known for a few hours.

So I slipped out of bed, found my clothes, and dressed as quietly as I could.

My shoes were in my hand when I reached the door.

Almost there.

I wrapped my fingers around the doorknob.

Behind me, the mattress shifted.

I froze.

"Mia?"

His voice was rough with sleep.

I closed my eyes for a second. Of course he'd wake up now.

Slowly, I turned around.

Ethan was sitting up, watching me. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes moved from my shoes to my hand on the door.

Then he looked straight at me.

"Was last night a mistake?"

My fingers tightened around the doorknob.