Zane's POV
I'm making the biggest mistake of my life, and I don't care.
Aria's hand is small in mine as I lead her through the back hallways of my family's mansion. The ones only Maya and I know about—secret routes we used as kids to escape our parents' boring dinner parties. Now I'm using them to escape with Maya's best friend.
My sister's going to kill me. If she finds out.
"Where are we going?" Aria's voice shakes slightly. From tears or nerves, I'm not sure.
"Somewhere private. Unless you've changed your mind?" I stop walking, giving her an out. Part of me hopes she takes it. The smart, decent part that knows this is wrong on every level.
But the other part—the part that's wanted this girl for three years and never admitted it—that part is praying she says no.
Aria's eyes meet mine. They're still red from crying, mascara smudged, but there's fire there now. Determination mixed with something that makes my blood run hot.
"I haven't changed my mind."
Thank God and damn it all at once.
We slip out the back entrance into the cool night air. My car's parked away from the main lot—I always leave myself an escape route from family events. Old habit from years of ditching responsibilities.
I open the passenger door for her. Aria slides in, her red dress riding up slightly. I force my eyes away and round to the driver's side. The engine purrs to life—my one real indulgence, a sleek black sports car my father said was "impractical and showy." Exactly why I bought it.
The drive to my penthouse should take twenty minutes. It feels like hours.
Aria's quiet beside me, hands twisted in her lap. I catch her biting her lip at a stoplight. That nervous habit she's had since I first met her—Maya's new college friend with the huge brown eyes and innocent smile. I'd dismissed her immediately. Too young. Too naive. Too... everything I needed to stay away from.
Except I never really stayed away, did I? I just pretended. Made jokes. Kept her at arm's length with insults and smirks. Because the alternative—admitting that Maya's sweet, bookish best friend made my chest tight every time she laughed—was unthinkable.
"Why did you offer this?" Aria asks suddenly. "To prove I'm not broken. Why do you care?"
Good question. One I'm not sure I can answer honestly.
"Because that guy was an idiot," I say instead. "And you deserved better than his bullshit."
"That's not an answer."
Smart girl. Too smart for her own good.
I pull into the underground parking of my building. The penthouse takes up the entire top floor—another "impractical" purchase that pissed off my father. Sensing a pattern?
In the elevator, tension crackles between us. Aria won't look at me. She's staring at the ascending floor numbers like they're the most fascinating thing in the world.
"Aria." I wait until she turns. "We don't have to do anything. We can just talk if you want. I meant what I said—you're not broken. You don't need to prove anything."
She studies my face like she's searching for a lie. "And if I want to? Prove it, I mean?"
My control, already hanging by a thread, starts to snap. "Then I'll spend the entire night showing you exactly what that idiot was too incompetent to figure out."
The elevator dings. We're here.
My penthouse is dark except for city lights streaming through floor-to-ceiling windows. I flip on a lamp. Aria walks to the windows, staring out at San Francisco's glittering skyline.
"This is where you bring all your dates?" she asks.
"No." The honest answer surprises us both. "I usually go to their places. Easier to leave."
"But you brought me here."
Because you're different, I think. Because every other woman was just passing time. Because I've spent three years convincing myself you were off-limits, and now that I have you here, I'm not letting you go until sunrise.
"I brought you here because I want you to feel safe," I say instead. "You're in control tonight, Aria. We go at your pace. If you want to stop, we stop. No questions asked."
She turns from the window. Her eyes are clearer now, the tears dried. "What if I don't want to stop?"
The question hangs in the air between us. My heart pounds—actually pounds—like I'm fifteen again instead of twenty-eight. When was the last time a woman made me nervous?
I cross the space between us slowly, giving her time to back away. She doesn't. Doesn't move at all except to tilt her chin up as I get closer.
"Then I'm going to kiss you," I say quietly. "And if you kiss me back, I'm going to take you to my bedroom. And then..." I pause, making sure she understands. "Then I'm going to touch you until you can't remember that asshole's name. Until the only name you remember is mine."
Aria's breath hitches. "That's a big promise."
"I don't make promises I can't keep." I cup her face, thumb brushing her cheekbone. Her skin is so soft. "Last chance to run, Aria Chen."
"Stop giving me outs." Her voice is stronger now. "I'm not running. I'm choosing this. I'm choosing you. For tonight."
That "for tonight" should be a relief. This is temporary. One night to get her out of my system. One night to prove she's not broken, then we go back to normal. Back to insults and distance and pretending we don't affect each other.
Except even now, I know it's a lie. One night with Aria isn't going to be enough.
But I take what I can get.
I lower my mouth to hers, and the world catches fire.
She tastes like punch and tears and something sweet I can't name. Her lips are soft, hesitant at first. I go slow, coaxing her to open for me. When she does—when her mouth parts and I finally, finally taste her properly—a sound escapes my throat. Something between a groan and a growl.
Aria's hands come up to my chest, fisting in my shirt. Not pushing away. Pulling closer.
I deepen the kiss, one hand sliding into her hair while the other wraps around her waist. She fits against me perfectly, like she was designed to be right here. Her inexperience shows in the uncertain way she kisses back, but there's enthusiasm too. Hunger she doesn't know how to express yet.
I'm going to teach her. I'm going to teach her everything.
I pull back before I lose control completely. Aria's breathing hard, her lips swollen, her eyes dark with want. She's never looked more beautiful.
"Bedroom," I manage. "Now."
I take her hand again, leading her down the hallway. My bedroom is dark until I flip the lights on dim. King-sized bed with black sheets. Minimalist furniture. Nothing soft or romantic because I've never needed that before.
But looking at Aria standing uncertainly in the middle of my room, I suddenly wish I had candles or flowers or something to make this special. Because this feels special. Different from every other woman I've brought home.
"I'm nervous," Aria admits quietly.
"Good. So am I."
Her eyes widen. "You're never nervous."
"I'm nervous I'll screw this up. That I'll hurt you or go too fast or—" I stop, running a hand through my hair. When did I become the uncertain one? "Just tell me if something doesn't feel right. Promise?"
"I promise." She takes a breath. "Where do we start?"
I smile, walking toward her slowly. "We start by getting you out of this dress."
I reach for her zipper. She's trembling slightly as I pull it down, inch by slow inch. The dress pools at her feet, leaving her in black lace that makes my mouth go dry.
"Beautiful," I murmur. "So damn beautiful."
"Zane..." Her voice is breathy.
"Yeah?"
"Stop talking and touch me."
Something in my chest explodes. This shy, uncertain girl just told me exactly what she wants. And I'm going to give it to her.
I back her toward the bed, my mouth finding hers again. She falls back onto the mattress, and I follow her down, covering her body with mine. Her skin is so soft, so warm. I kiss down her neck, feeling her pulse race under my lips.
"Tell me what that asshole did to you," I say against her throat.
"What?"
"In bed. What did he do?"
Aria's quiet for a moment. "Just... the usual? He'd kiss me a little, then we'd just... do it. Quick. Like he was in a hurry to finish."
Rage burns through me. "Did you ever finish? Did he ever make you come?"
Her face flushes red. "I... no. I didn't think that was normal. I thought that only happened in movies."
Oh, baby. You have no idea what you've been missing.
"It's normal," I tell her firmly. "And before this night is over, you're going to come so many times you lose count. That's a promise."
Her eyes go wide. "That's possible?"
"With me? Absolutely." I kiss down her stomach, feeling her tense. "Relax. I've got you."
"Zane, what are you—oh my God."
I settle between her thighs, pressing a kiss to her inner leg. "Lesson one, Aria. Learning what your body likes."
I look up at her, waiting for permission. Her face is flushed, her chest heaving, but she nods.
And then I show her exactly what she's been missing.
Minutes—or hours, I've lost track—later, Aria's crying out my name, her body shaking. I've lost count of how many times she's fallen apart. Each one more satisfying than the last.
"Zane, I can't—it's too much—"
"One more," I coax. "Give me one more, baby."
She shatters again, and the sound she makes—pure pleasure without shame—is the most beautiful thing I've ever heard.
I move back up her body, kissing her deeply. She tastes herself on my lips and doesn't pull away. Progress.
"See?" I murmur against her mouth. "Not broken. Not even close."
"That was..." She can't seem to find words.
"Just the beginning." I brush hair from her face. "Ready for lesson two?"
Aria looks up at me with total trust, total surrender. "Yes."
And that's when I realize I'm completely screwed. Because this was supposed to be one night. One night to get her out of my system. One night to prove a point.
But looking at Aria Chen in my bed, her defenses down, her body open to me—I know one night will never be enough.
I'm going to want more. Tomorrow. Next week. Forever.
And that's terrifying. Because she's still Maya's best friend. Still seven years younger. Still everything I should walk away from.
But as I lower my body over hers, as she wraps her arms around me and whispers "please," I know walking away isn't an option anymore.
I'm already addicted.