Chapter 19
I hadn’t realized how loud the world was until I stepped back into it.
The coworking space was the kind of place where everyone pretended their hustle was effortless.
A curated sort of chaos buzzed around me—clicking keys, low laughter, someone pitching something over Zoom in the back conference room.
I moved through it in a fog, still sore in places I wouldn’t dare talk about, still carrying the heat of the night before.
I was barely seated—laptop open, coffee steaming, pretending to scroll through inboxes—when I heard her.
“Oh, my God.”
Mina’s voice came from behind me, part awe, part scandalized whisper. I turned slowly, heart already pounding.
She plopped down across from me at the little round table we usually shared, eyes wide behind her oversized tortoiseshell glasses. “Tell me you didn’t.”
I blinked. “Didn’t what?”
Her brows shot up.
I hesitated.
Her jaw dropped. “Wait. You’ve been gone too long. Are you telling me you saw him more than once?”
I swallowed. “Mina?—”
“Zara.”
She sounded like someone on the brink of a cardiac event. “That’s not how it works. That’s not how Alpha Mail works.”
I glanced around, heat rushing to my face. “Keep your voice down. You’re jumping the gun here, don’t you think?”
Mina leaned in. “You’re telling me you didn’t just sleep with him once. You saw him multiple times? Like … romantically?”
How could she tell?
I didn’t answer.
She stared. “I’ve used Alpha Mail. Once. It was … exactly what it was supposed to be. One night. One man. No names. No repeats.”
I looked down at the bracelet on my wrist, the gold glinting faintly beneath my sleeve. “Maybe my guy makes exceptions.”
She gaped.
I didn’t know how to explain it. I wasn’t even sure I understood it. Ronan wasn’t a boyfriend. He wasn’t a fling. He was something else entirely. Something with hands that knew exactly how to tear me apart and a voice that could command the ground out from under me.
I’d never felt so exposed. Or so seen.
Mina leaned back slowly, studying me like I’d grown antlers. “You’re not telling me everything. Come on. I want to know.”
“It’s complicated. ”
“You think?”
Mina folded her arms and leaned in like a lawyer about to cross-examine a witness.
“My guy met me at a boutique hotel on East Bay. He came in, said very few words, did his job—very well, I’ll give him that—and left before I could ask his name.
That was it. No texts. No second night. Just a clean, hot escape from my disastrous dating life. ”
I swallowed, glancing around the coworking space. “It wasn’t like that with me.”
“No shit.”
I looked at her. “You have to promise you won’t tell anyone.”
She held up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”
“I’m serious, Mina.”
“So am I. Spill.”
I hesitated, then exhaled. “We went to Miami.”
Her mouth fell open. “You did what?”
“Yeah. Like … got-on-a-plane went.”
“That wasn’t in the brochure.”
I laughed under my breath, shaky. “You think I don’t know that?”
“And you just said we. As in, plural. As in, you didn’t go alone.”
I gave her a flat look.
She leaned back, wide-eyed. “Holy shit.”
“I didn’t know what I was agreeing to,” I said quickly. “It all happened fast. He showed up, we barely talked, and then suddenly we’re in an SUV headed for the airport.”
She blinked. “You got in a car with a stranger and went out of state?”
“I know how it sounds. ”
“Zara, that sounds like the first ten minutes of a true crime podcast.”
I ignored that. “It wasn’t like that. He was … I don’t know. Commanding. Safe, somehow. But also not. I can’t explain it.”
She looked at me like she was worried I might be concussed. “So you flew to Miami with a stranger from Alpha Mail. What the hell happened there?”
I felt heat crawl up my neck. “Not what you think.”
Mina’s brows shot up. “You didn’t have sex with him?”
“Not fully. Not there.”
“Okay, that’s a lot to unpack. What do you mean? Why not?”
I shrugged, eyes flicking to my coffee. “He said he wanted to wait until we were back in Charleston. That he wanted it to be here.”
Mina’s face went still. “Wait— he turned you down?”
My lips pressed into a line.
“That is not standard operating procedure,” she muttered, half to herself. “Jesus, Zara. That’s not even romantic escort behavior. That’s …”
“Personal?”
She nodded slowly. “Yeah. That’s personal.”
We sat there in silence for a beat, the buzz of the coworking space humming around us like static.
“His house is on John’s Island,” I said finally, voice low. “Near my parents. That’s where it happened. That’s where we …”
“Okay, now I’m going to faint.”
“Mina.”
She fanned herself. “He took you to his house? You’ve seen where he lives?”
I gave a small nod .
She let out a breath like it hurt. “Zara, do you know how many rules that breaks?”
“No,” I admitted. “And honestly, I don’t care.”
“Are you in love with him?”
The question hit me like a rock to the ribs.
I didn’t answer.
I didn’t have to.
Mina studied me, eyes narrowed, lips pursed around her straw like she was trying to suck the truth out of me by force. “Back up,” she said. “When I asked if you’d had sex, you said ‘not fully.’ What the hell does that mean?”
I exhaled slowly. “It means … it depends on your definition.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Zara.”
I leaned closer, lowering my voice even though no one else was paying attention—yet. “It means I was on a beach in Miami. Under a cabana. With the ocean all around me. And he dropped to his knees like it was the only thing that mattered.”
Mina’s mouth fell open. “He—he went down on you? On the beach?”
I nodded.
“You’re telling me the man you matched with through an anonymous one-night-stand service,” she whispered, “ate you out in public?”
My cheeks burned, but I didn’t look away. “On South Beach. I was naked, still salty from the ocean, and he didn’t give a single fuck who might see.”
Mina clapped a hand over her mouth like she couldn’t decide whether to laugh, scream, or launch into applause. “That’s not a fling. That’s—hell, that’s biblical. ”
I leaned in, voice low. “It wasn’t even the beach that got me.”
She blinked. “It wasn’t?”
“No. It was the night before that—after the zoo thing.” I paused, watching her eyes go wide. “He drew me a bath. Lit candles. Then he held me all night. Just held me.”
Mina’s mouth opened. Closed. Then opened again. “He … didn’t try anything?”
“He could’ve. I wanted him to. But he said no. Said he wanted it to happen in Charleston. Said he wanted it to be more.”
She stared like I’d sprouted wings. “So he flew you to Miami, there was a zoo thing, he gave you the slowest burn of your life in a candlelit tub, and then cuddled you?”
I gave a helpless little shrug. “Yeah.”
Mina narrowed her eyes. “Wait—back up again. What the hell do you mean by a ‘zoo thing?’”
I exhaled slowly, unsure how to even begin. “It was a private overnight event at Zoo Miami. Some kind of wild, curated experience. There were other women … and we were hunted.”
Mina’s jaw dropped. “Hunted?”
“Not like with weapons or anything,” I said quickly. “But it was primal. Orchestrated. They gave us a head start, and then the men came after us. Ronan found me.”
“Oh, my God,” she breathed, wide-eyed. “And you were okay with that?”
“I wasn’t sure I would be,” I admitted. “But … it didn’t feel how it sounds. He didn’t hurt me. He didn’t even touch me—at least not like that. It was intense, yeah. But it was also exactly what I asked for.”
Mina blinked. “What do you mean? ”
I lowered my voice. “In the letter. The one I wrote to Alpha Mail. I said I wanted to be hunted.”
Her mouth fell open. “ You said that?”
I nodded. “I didn’t think they’d actually do it. It was one of those things I never expected to come true. But he read it. He listened. And he gave me exactly what I asked for … just not in the way I expected.”
Mina stared like I’d just confessed to summoning a demon and falling in love with it. “That’s insane. That’s like—romance novel meets psychological warfare meets Jane Goodall goes to hell.”
I laughed, breath catching. “Honestly? It didn’t feel scary. It felt like he wanted me to surrender. Not just physically. Emotionally. And I think I did.”
“That’s not a hookup,” she muttered, shaking her head. “That’s a fucking love letter written in actions.”
I nodded.
“After doing that? Girl, if I were him, I’d have dragged you back to the hotel by your hair and made the maid staff wait.”
My lips twitched. “You’re not him.”
She sat back hard in her seat, like the weight of it all finally hit her. “So he’s interested. Gorgeous. Probably dangerous. And he’s showing restraint?”
I nodded again.
Mina shook her head slowly. “That’s not a hookup. That’s a problem.”
And that’s when a voice from the next table piped up—a techie guy who always seemed to be working on an app no one had asked for. “Hey Zara, that column you dropped? About Alpha Mail?” He gave a mock bow from his seat. “Ballsy.”
I forced a smile. “Thanks.”
Another woman chimed in from across the room. “ That last line? ‘Freedom isn’t always about walking away. Sometimes it’s about choosing who you walk toward’? Gave me chills.”
Mina didn’t look at them. She was still watching me. “You wrote that?”
I nodded.
She leaned closer again, voice lower now. “Zara, I know you. I know when you're all in. You’re glowing and flustered and walking like someone who got railed against a balcony last night.”
“Mina.”
“I’m not wrong.”
I glanced around the coworking space, like maybe the walls were bugged.
Like maybe if I said it out loud, it would make it too real.
A few more heads turned, curious, but quickly returned to their screens and half-empty coffees, the low hum of tapping keys and quiet conversation resuming like nothing had happened.
Still, I felt exposed—like everyone could see straight through me.
I focused my attention on Mina.
“I went to his house,” I finally said, quietly. “On the water. John’s Island. It’s beautiful—dark, masculine, but warm. And he—” I swallowed. “He took me outside,” I whispered. “To the balcony. Overlooking the marsh. And yes … he did rail me against the railing.”
Mina made a sound that was half gasp, half swoon. “I fucking knew it.”
“After that, he didn’t just take me to bed. He made another bath. Lit candles. Washed me like I mattered.”
Mina’s expression was already softening, but I wasn’t done.
I smiled, but it was shaky. “It wasn’t just sex. It was—God. It was like he needed me to know. That I belonged to him. That he could ruin me and hold me in the same breath.”
Her jaw dropped, hands over her mouth again. “Tell me everything. Start to finish. Don’t leave out a single detail.”
I pressed my thighs together beneath the table and shook my head, blushing. “I don’t think I can say some of it in public.”
“Oh, you will.” She leaned in with a grin. “Because if I had a man who gave me a claim fuck on a balcony and then a bath? I’d be writing about it in the damn New York Times .”
I looked at my hands. “I don’t know what this is.”
“You do,” she said gently. “You just don’t want to admit it.”
“I shouldn’t even be seeing him.”
“But you are.”
Silence settled between us again, heavy with everything I couldn’t say.
She reached out and touched my wrist. “I won’t tell anyone, of course. But be careful. Alpha Mail isn’t just a fantasy. It’s a business. And if he’s still seeing you, it means either he’s broken the rules—” she hesitated, “—or you were never a regular client.”
My stomach twisted. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying there’s something going on here. Something you’re not seeing yet.” She paused. “You’re in deep, Zara. And I get it. God, I get it. But don’t lose yourself in the way he makes you feel.”
I bit the inside of my cheek and let the thought unspool in my mind—how it felt when he touched me like I was something fragile and filthy all at once.
How his mouth moved like he’d memorized every curve of me.
How my body ached for him, even now, seated at a shared table in a room full of half-started dreams.
He didn’t just please me.
He ruined me.
No man had ever looked at me like that. Like he was starving. Like I was a secret he couldn’t wait to learn again and again.
“Zara,” Mina said again, softer now. “Whatever this is? It’s not going to stay secret for long.”
“I know.”
And I did.
But I also knew that whatever lines I thought I’d drawn had already been crossed.
Because I wasn’t thinking about how to walk away.
I was thinking about when I’d get to see him again.