Chapter 7. The Morning After

The morning sunlight spilled into the room, casting soft, golden hues across the bed. I blinked, the warmth of the light tugging me from the depths of sleep. For a moment, I lay still, trying to piece together where I was and why my body ached in the best way possible.

Then it hit me.

Damien.

The memories of last night rushed back in vivid, dizzying flashes: the way his hands had gripped my hips, the fire in his gaze, the way he’d murmured my name like it was the only thing that mattered.

I rolled over, expecting to find him still beside me, but the bed was empty.

The sheets were rumpled, a lingering hint of his cologne clinging to the fabric, but there was no sign of him.

Disappointment settled in my chest like a stone, heavy and cold.

What did you expect, Ava? That he’d stay? That he’d make you breakfast and whisper sweet nothings into your ear?

I shook my head, forcing the thought away as I sat up and reached for the robe draped over the edge of the bed.

It wasn’t supposed to mean anything.

That had been the deal, hadn’t it?

So why did it feel like something was missing?

---

The apartment was quiet as I made my way to the kitchen, the faint hum of the city outside serving as a reminder that life went on, regardless of what happened between Damien and me.

I set a pot of coffee brewing, the familiar routine grounding me as I tried to push the night’s events from my mind.

But it was impossible.

Everywhere I turned, I could still feel him: the way his lips had claimed mine, the weight of his body pressing me into the mattress, the intensity in his eyes that made me feel like I was the only thing he cared about in that moment.

I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat at the small table by the window, staring out at the bustling street below.

My phone buzzed, pulling me from my thoughts.

I hesitated, my heart skipping a beat as I reached for it.

But it wasn’t Damien.

It was Lila.

Lila: So… did you survive your date with Mr. Mysterious? Or should I start calling hospitals?

I rolled my eyes, a small smile tugging at my lips despite the unease coiling in my stomach.

Me: I’m alive. Barely.

Her response came almost immediately.

Lila: Details. Now.

I hesitated, my fingers hovering over the keyboard.

What could I even say? That I’d spent the night with a man who made me feel things I wasn’t ready to admit, only for him to vanish without a trace again?

Me: It was fine. Nothing to tell.

Lila: Liar.

I sighed, setting the phone aside. Lila wasn’t going to let it go, but I wasn’t ready to talk about Damien.

I wasn’t even sure I understood what had happened, let alone how to explain it.

---

The day passed in a blur of errands and half-hearted attempts at studying. No matter how hard I tried to focus, my mind kept drifting back to him.

By the time evening rolled around, I was a bundle of nerves, my chest tight with an anxious energy I couldn’t shake.

And then my phone buzzed again.

This time, it was him.

Damien: Open the door.

My breath caught, my pulse racing as I stared at the message.

Before I could overthink it, a knock echoed through the apartment.

I crossed the room quickly, my heart pounding as I opened the door.

He stood there, his hands in his pockets, looking as composed as ever.

But there was something different about him – a tension in his jaw, a flicker of hesitation in his eyes.

“You left. Again,” I said before I could stop myself.

His lips twitched, though it wasn’t quite a smile. “I had a meeting. I didn’t think you’d want me to wake you.”

I folded my arms across my chest, trying to ignore the way my body reacted to his presence. “You could’ve left a note.”

He stepped closer, his gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that made it hard to breathe.

“I’m not good at this,” he admitted, his voice low.

“At what?”

“This.” He gestured between us, his jaw tightening. “Relationships. Emotions. Any of it.”

I swallowed hard, my pulse racing. “I’m not asking for anything.”

“Aren’t you?”

The words stung, but I held my ground. “No. You’re the one who keeps showing up.”

His eyes darkened, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from my face.

“You drive me insane,” he murmured, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw.

I shivered under his touch, my resolve crumbling as he leaned closer.

“You’re infuriating,” I whispered, my voice trembling.

His lips curved into a faint smirk. “And yet, you can’t stay away.”

Neither could he, it seemed.

Before I could respond, his mouth was on mine, stealing the breath from my lungs.

The kiss was raw and consuming, a silent admission of everything we were too afraid to say aloud.

When we finally broke apart, I was left breathless, my hands clutching at his shirt to keep myself steady.

“Tell me what you want, Ava,” Damien said, his voice a low growl.

I looked into his eyes, my heart pounding as I whispered the truth.

“You.”

And just like that, the tension snapped.

His hands were on me, his lips claiming mine as he backed me into the apartment and kicked the door shut behind him.

For now, there were no questions, no doubts.

There was only us, lost in the fire we’d ignited.