Ember's POV - TWO WEEKS EARLIER
The elevator doors open on the seventh floor.
Adrian's hand never leaves mine as he leads me down the hallway. His touch is gentle, but I can feel the restraint—like he's holding himself back with every step.
We stop at room 714.
He pulls out his keycard, then pauses with his hand on the door handle.
Ember. His voice is rough. I need you to be absolutely certain. Because the moment we walk through this door—
I push the door open myself.
His sharp intake of breath is the only warning before his mouth crashes onto mine.
We stumble inside, hands everywhere, mouths desperate. The door slams shut behind us. Adrian's jacket hits the floor. My purse follows.
You're sure? he asks between kisses, his hands framing my face.
Stop asking, I breathe. Just, please
He kisses me again, slower this time. Deliberate. Like he's memorizing the taste of me.
His hands slide down my back, finding the zipper of my dress. Tell me if I do anything you don't like.
I will.
The zipper lowers slowly. Cool air hits my skin. The dress pools at my feet.
Adrian steps back, and his eyes darken as he takes me in.
For a second, I feel exposed. Vulnerable. The old Ember, Jason's girlfriend—would cover herself, apologize, feel ashamed.
But I'm not her anymore.
I meet his gaze steadily. Your turn.
His lips curve into a smile that's pure heat. He unbuttons his shirt slowly, holding eye contact the entire time.
When it falls away, I forget how to breathe.
He's beautiful. All lean muscle and golden skin and
Come here, he says quietly.
I cross the space between us. His hands settle on my waist, warm and sure.
You're exquisite, he murmurs against my ear. Do you know that?
No one has ever called me exquisite before.
His mouth finds my neck, and I gasp. My hands grip his shoulders for balance.
Tell me what you want, he whispers. Don't hold back. Not tonight.
You, I say simply. I want you.
Something breaks in him.
We stumble toward the bed, hands and mouths and whispered words I'll remember forever. He lays me down gently, like I'm something precious, then covers my body with his.
Last chance, he says, even though we're both breathing hard, even though we're past the point of stopping.
Adrian. I pull him closer. Stop giving me chances to run. I'm choosing this. I'm choosing you.
He kisses me then—deep and claiming and absolutely devastating.
And then there are no more words.
Just sensation. His hands learning every curve. His mouth making promises against my skin. The way he whispers my name like a prayer.
I've had sex before. With Jason. Awkward, fumbling encounters that left me wondering if something was wrong with me.
This isn't that.
This is fire and want and feeling so alive I might burn up completely.
Adrian is patient. Attentive. He pays attention to every gasp, every sigh, learning what makes me arch against him.
Look at me, he says when I close my eyes. I want to see you.
I open my eyes and find him watching me with an intensity that steals my breath.
Beautiful, he murmurs. So beautiful.
When we finally come together, the world falls away.
Nothing exists except this, the two of us, tangled together, moving like we've done this a thousand times before.
Ember, he groans against my neck. God, Ember
I dig my fingers into his back, lost in the sensation, in him, in this perfect moment that feels like it might never end.
When it does—when we both shatter, he holds me like I might disappear.
We lie there afterward, breathing hard, tangled in expensive hotel sheets.
Adrian traces patterns on my shoulder. That was
Yeah, I agree, because I don't have words either.
He pulls me closer, and I rest my head on his chest. His heartbeat is still racing.
I should probably feel guilty, I murmur. I broke up with my boyfriend six hours ago.
Do you? Feel guilty?
I think about it honestly. No. Is that terrible?
It's honest. His fingers comb through my hair. You don't owe guilt to someone who hurt you.
We're quiet for a moment.
Then Adrian says, Tell me something real. Something you've never told anyone.
The request is intimate. Personal. We've already been as physically close as two people can be, but this feels more vulnerable somehow.
I'm scared, I admit quietly. I start university in two weeks, and everyone there will have seen the video of me getting humiliated. They'll all know my ex cheated on me with my best friend. I'll be the joke before I even walk through the door.
Adrian's arms tighten around me. Then you walk through that door with your head high. You show them that their opinions mean nothing. That you're so much more than one bad day.
Easy to say.
Not easy at all. But necessary. He tilts my chin up to look at him. You're brilliant, Ember. Anyone who spends five minutes talking to you can see that. Don't let small-minded people make you forget it.
Tears prick my eyes. You don't even know me.
I know enough. I know you're brave enough to take a risk on a stranger. I know you're passionate about stories and words and ideas. I know you deserve so much better than whatever that idiot gave you. He pauses. And I know I'm going to remember this night for the rest of my life.
I kiss him because I don't know what else to do with all the emotion flooding through me.
It starts slow—tender—but quickly turns desperate again.
Again? I whisper against his mouth.
God, yes, he groans.
This time is slower. Sweeter. He takes his time, exploring every inch of me, making me feel cherished in a way I've never experienced.
When we finish, we're both exhausted.
Adrian pulls the covers over us. Stay, he murmurs, already half-asleep. Stay the night.
I should leave. This was supposed to be one night—reckless and anonymous and over.
But his arms are warm, and I'm so tired, and for once I don't want to be responsible.
Okay, I whisper. I'll stay.
He smiles against my hair and falls asleep holding me.
I lie there in the darkness, listening to him breathe, memorizing this feeling.
Tomorrow I'll go back to being regular Ember. The girl with plans and goals and a future to build.
But tonight, I'm just a girl in a stranger's arms, feeling more myself than I ever have before.
Eventually, I fall asleep too.
I wake to sunlight streaming through the curtains.
For one perfect second, I don't remember where I am.
Then it all comes flooding back.
Adrian. The hotel. Last night.
Oh God. Last night.
My cheeks burn as memories wash over me—his hands, his mouth, the things he whispered that made me forget my own name.
I turn my head carefully.
He's still asleep beside me, one arm throw over his face. His dark hair is messy—I did that, running my fingers through it while he
Stop. Don't think about it.
Except I can't stop thinking about it. About how alive I felt. How powerful. How completely unlike myself.
Or maybe exactly like myself, just the version I've kept hidden for twenty-one years.
I need to leave.
This was beautiful—perfect, even, but it's over now. Reality is waiting outside this hotel room.
University. My future. The life I need to build.
I carefully slip out of bed, trying not to wake him.
My dress is crumpled on the floor. I find my shoes under a chair. My purse near the door.
I should leave a note. That's what people do, right?
But what would I even say? Thanks for the perfect night? Sorry for being reckless? Let's never speak of this again?
Adrian shifts in his sleep, and my heart stops.
I can't be here when he wakes up. Can't face the morning-after conversation where we both pretend last night meant nothing. Where he asks for my number out of politeness and I give it knowing he'll never call.
Better to leave it as a perfect memory. A beautiful mistake. One wild night where I got to be someone brave.
I slip out the door as quietly as possible, closing it with a soft click.
The hallway is empty. The elevator ride down feels endless.
The lobby is nearly deserted at six in the morning. The concierge glances at me—still wearing last night's dress, and quickly looks away.
The walk of shame. I've heard other girls talk about it. Never thought I'd experience it myself.
But shame isn't what I feel.
I feel... powerful. Alive. Different.
Outside, the morning air is cool against my flushed skin. I pull out my phone to call a cab.
Twenty-three missed calls. Fifteen texts.
Most from Jason. A few from numbers I don't recognize—probably him calling from friends' phones.
I delete them all without reading.
Then I call for a ride home.
While I wait, I let myself remember. The way Adrian looked at me. The way he touched me like I was precious. The way he made me feel seen.
I'll never see him again. He said he's starting a new job Monday—probably some businessman passing through town.
And I'm starting university in two weeks.
Our paths will never cross again.
It's better this way. Cleaner. No complications. No messy feelings. Just one perfect night I'll carry with me forever.
The cab pulls up.
I slide into the backseat and give my address.
As we drive away, I don't look back at The Grand Hotel.
I'm already looking forward.
To Ashford University. To my new life. To proving that I'm more than one humiliating video.
I don't know that in fourteen days, I'll walk into my first class and see Adrian standing at the front of the room.
I don't know that the stranger who whispered you're exquisite will be Professor Blackwell.
I don't know that the one perfect night I'm trying to forget will become my most forbidden secret.
But I will.
In two weeks, everything will change.
And the beautiful mistake I made tonight will become the biggest complication of my life.