The ride back was weirdly… quiet.
After a night of fake flirting, near disasters, and enough lingering looks to make a romcom director jealous, Aria was officially fried. She kept her eyes out the window, pretending not to notice how Ethan kept glancing her way at stoplights.
"Want me to drop you home?" he asked finally.
"Obviously."
But then it happened.
The heavens opened.
A torrential downpour dumped on the city, thunder rolling overhead like it had a personal grudge.
Ethan cursed. "Great. My wipers suck."
Aria checked her phone. No signal. Of course.
"Maybe pull over?" she suggested. "I don't feel like dying tonight."
He reluctantly agreed, steering them toward the covered lot beneath his building.
They sat in the car, rain hammering the roof.
"Well," Aria sighed. "Guess we wait it out."
Ethan gave her a sidelong look. "Or…"
"Or what, Cole?"
"You could come up. I've got decent whiskey, terrible snacks, and Netflix. Unless you're scared you'll fall in love with me."
Aria snorted. "In your dreams."
But honestly? It beat sitting in a fogged-up car with a dead phone.
"Fine," she grumbled. "One drink. No funny business."
He grinned. "Wouldn't dream of it."
---
Ethan's apartment was annoyingly nice. Sleek, modern, way too clean. Minimalist furniture and city views that could make you forget you were in a world-class rivalry.
Aria kicked off her heels with a groan. "If you ever tell anyone I'm here, I will end you."
"Relax," Ethan chuckled, handing her a glass. "Your secret's safe."
They settled on the couch, some old action movie playing in the background while the storm raged outside.
A drink turned into two.
Two into three.
Somewhere between arguing over whether Die Hard was a Christmas movie and Ethan admitting he used to have a boy band phase ("I had frosted tips, Lane. Judge away.") — something shifted.
The air went softer.
Ethan turned to her, a different look in his eyes now. Not smug. Not teasing.
Just… real.
"Hey," he said quietly. "About the other night. On the rooftop."
Aria stiffened. "What about it?"
"I didn't mean to mess with you. I know we fight like idiots, but… I like this. Whatever this weird, screwed-up thing is between us."
She didn't answer right away.
Because if she opened her mouth now, she might say something dangerous.
Like me too.
So she settled for a weak joke. "Wow. Sentimental Cole. Didn't think I'd live to see it."
But her voice cracked a little.
Ethan smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
And in the flicker of lightning outside, they leaned in again.
Slower this time.
Closer.
He hesitated, giving her every chance to pull away.
But she didn't.
And when his lips finally brushed hers, it was soft. Careful. Like a question neither of them knew how to ask.
And Aria kissed him back.
A long, slow, heart-stopping kind of kiss that made every fight and insult and sarcastic comment blur into background noise.
When they finally pulled apart, both breathless, Ethan whispered, "Guess you're staying the night."
She should've said no.
But she didn't.
Instead, she muttered, "Only because your building's flooding."
And Ethan grinned...