Chapter 1 #3
"You're a terrible liar." But he didn't sound judgmental. "Let me guess—eighteenth birthday? First time at a club? Friend convinced you to come out and 'live a little'?"
My mouth fell open. "How did you—"
"I'm good at reading people." He took a sip of his drink, eyes never leaving mine. "So was I right?"
"Maybe."
"That's a yes." He looked pleased with himself. "So what's your plan for this momentous night? Get drunk? Dance on tables? Make some bad decisions?"
"I'm the kind of girl who doesn't make bad decisions."
"Even better." His voice dropped lower. "I'm the kind of man who likes corrupting good girls."
Oh god. Oh god, the way he said that made heat pool low in my stomach.
"I should—" I gestured vaguely toward the dance floor. "My friend is probably looking for me."
"Your friend is currently making out with a guy by the bar. Pretty sure she's not looking for you."
I glanced over. He was right. Sophie was wrapped around someone—presumably Derek—like she was trying to merge with him on a molecular level.
"I should still—"
"Stay." His hand found my wrist, fingers wrapping around it lightly. "Talk to me."
"Why?"
"Because I want to know you." He said it simply. "And because you want to stay."
"You're very presumptuous about what I want."
"Am I wrong?"
No. He wasn't wrong. And that was terrifying.
"I don't even know your name."
"Kai." His thumb brushed across my pulse point, and I knew he could feel how fast my heart was racing. "What do I call you?"
"Does it matter?"
"Not really." His smile turned wicked. "I'll probably just call you whatever I want anyway."
"That's incredibly arrogant."
"It's honest." He tugged me slightly closer. "So? Do I get a name, or do I pick one?"
"Aria."
"Aria." The way he said it, slow and deliberate, made my name sound like something intimate. "That's beautiful. Fits you."
"You can't know that. You just met me."
"Then prove me wrong." His hand slid from my wrist to my waist, fingers pressing against my hip through the thin fabric of my shirt. "Tell me I'm wrong, Aria. Tell me you're not running from something. Tell me tonight isn't about feeling alive for the first time in your life."
I couldn't. Because he was right about all of it.
"I'm grieving." The words slipped out before I could stop them. "My mom died a week ago."
His expression shifted slightly. Softened. "I'm sorry."
"Everyone's sorry." I laughed, but it came out bitter. "Sorry doesn't change anything. Doesn't bring her back. Doesn't make me feel less like I'm drowning."
"Is that why you're here? Trying not to drown?"
"I'm here because I'm tired of being perfect." The tequila was making me honest. Reckless. "Tired of doing what everyone expects. Tired of living my life for everyone else while mine just... disappears."
"Then stop."
"It's not that simple."
"It's exactly that simple." His hand tightened on my waist. "You just don't want it badly enough yet."
"You don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't I?" His eyes burned into mine. "I know what it's like to be trapped by other people's expectations. I know what it's like to wake up one day and realize you're living someone else's life. And I know what it takes to break free."
"And what's that?"
"Being willing to burn it all down." His voice was rough now. "Being willing to take what you want and damn the consequences."
"That's easy to say when you don't know what the consequences are."
"You're right. I don't know your life. Don't know what you're running from or what you're risking by being here.
" His other hand came up to cup my face, thumb brushing across my cheekbone.
"But I know you. I've seen that look before—the one you're wearing right now.
Like you're drowning and you just realized no one's coming to save you. "
"And what? You're offering to save me?"
"No." His forehead dropped to mine. "I'm offering to teach you how to save yourself."
My breath caught. We were so close now I could feel his body heat, smell whatever expensive cologne he was wearing mixed with something darker. Him.
"And how would you do that?"
"By showing you what it feels like to choose something for yourself. Not because someone told you to. Not because it's expected. But because you want it."
"What if I don't know what I want?"
"You do." His hand slid from my face to the back of my neck, fingers tangling in my hair. "You're just afraid to admit it."
"I'm not—"
"You are. You've been afraid your whole life. Afraid of disappointing people, afraid of making mistakes, afraid of being anything other than perfect." His voice dropped to a whisper. "But you're not afraid of me. And that terrifies you most of all."
He was right. God, he was right about everything and it made me want to run and stay in equal measure.
"You're very sure of yourself."
"I know what I want." His grip tightened in my hair. "And right now, I want you to stop lying to yourself."
"About what?"
"About this." His mouth was so close to mine now I could feel his breath. "About the fact that you felt it the second our eyes met across this room. About the fact that you've been thinking about what would happen if you just let go for once. About the fact that you want me as much as I want you."
My heart was hammering so hard I could hear it in my ears. "You're insane."
"Probably." His lips brushed my temple. "But I'm honest. I'm not going to play games with you, Aria. I'm not going to pretend this is something it's not. I saw you tonight and I knew I had to have you. And I think you knew it too."
"That's—"
"True." His hand slid from my neck to my waist, pulling me flush against him. "Tell me I'm wrong. Tell me you're not feeling this."
I couldn't. Because he wasn't wrong. From the second our eyes had met, something had clicked into place. Something inevitable and terrifying and absolutely undeniable.
"This is crazy. We just met."
"And yet here we are." His hands were on my hips now, thumbs brushing against bare skin where my shirt had ridden up. "Still talking. Still touching. Still pretending either of us is going to walk away."
"Maybe I want to walk away."
"Do you?" His eyes searched mine. "Because all you have to do is say the word and I'll disappear. I'll let you go back to your friend, go home, forget this ever happened."
It was an out. A clean escape. All I had to do was say yes.
"I don't want you to disappear."
His entire body went taut. "Say that again."
"I don't want you to walk away." My hands found his chest, fingers curling into his shirt. "I want—I don't know what I want. But I know I don't want this to end yet."
"Careful, Aria." His voice was strained. "Because if you keep talking like that, I'm going to kiss you. And once I start, I'm not going to stop."
"Then don't stop."
The words were barely out of my mouth before his hand tangled in my hair, tilting my head back. His eyes searched mine for one last second, giving me a final chance to change my mind.
I didn't take it.
His mouth came down on mine and the world caught fire.
I'd never been kissed before. Never felt someone's lips on mine, never tasted another person, never experienced this overwhelming rush of sensation that made my knees go weak.
His tongue swept against my lips and I opened for him on instinct.
The taste of him—whiskey and mint and something uniquely him—flooded my senses.
His hand tightened in my hair, angling my head exactly how he wanted it, and I let him.
Let him take control because I had no idea what I was doing and he clearly did.
I made a sound I'd never made before, something between a whimper and a moan, and he swallowed it. His other arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me so close I could feel every hard line of his body.
This was nothing like I'd imagined. Nothing like the romance novels I'd read in secret or the fantasies I'd had lying awake at night. This was raw and consuming and so intense I couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything but hold on.
His mouth moved from my lips to my jaw, down to my neck, and pleasure shot through me so sharp I gasped.
"Kai—"
"Say it again." His teeth scraped against my pulse point. "Say my name again."
"Kai."
He groaned against my skin, the sound vibrating through me, and his hands gripped my hips hard enough to bruise. Good. I wanted marks. Wanted proof tomorrow that this had been real.
When he pulled back, we were both breathing hard. His eyes were nearly black, pupils blown wide, and the way he looked at me made more heat pool between my legs.
"Come with me." His voice was rough.
"Where?"
"Somewhere private." His hand cupped my face. "Because if I keep touching you here, I'm going to do something that'll get us both arrested."
My brain was screaming that this was insane. That I didn't know him. That good girls didn't leave clubs with strange men.
But I'd been a good girl my whole life. And it had gotten me exactly nowhere.
"Okay."
He grabbed my hand and pulled me through the crowd toward the exit. The cool night air hit my overheated skin, but it did nothing to clear my head.
Kai backed me against the brick wall of the building, his hands on either side of my head, caging me in. His eyes burned into mine.
"I need you to understand what's going to happen if you come with me." His voice was strained. "I'm not taking you for coffee. I'm not going to be a gentleman. I'm taking you to a hotel, and I'm going to spend the rest of the night showing you exactly what you've been missing."
Every word sent heat flooding through me.
"I've never—" I couldn't finish the sentence.
"I know." His thumb brushed across my swollen lips. "And after tonight, you'll never forget. So I need you to be very sure, Aria. Because once we leave here, once I get you alone, I'm not going to stop. I'm going to take you apart. I'm going to make you mine in every way that matters."
I should have been scared. Should have said no. Should have thanked him for the kiss and gone home.
Instead, I looked into his dark eyes and said: "Then take me."
His hands were on me immediately, pulling me against him as his mouth found mine again. This kiss was hungrier, more desperate. His tongue swept against mine and I couldn't stop the sounds escaping my throat.
When he finally pulled back, we were both shaking.
"My car's two blocks away." His voice was wrecked. "We're going to walk there, I'm going to drive to the closest hotel, and then—" He stopped, jaw clenched. "Last chance to change your mind."
I thought about Papa's promise. About Salvatore. About the fact that if I did end up married to that man in three months, this would be my only chance.
"I'm not changing my mind."
Something fierce and possessive flashed across his face. "Then let's go."
He grabbed my hand and we started walking. My phone buzzed in my pocket—probably Sophie checking on me—but I ignored it.
Tonight was mine. This choice was mine.
Whatever happened next, at least I'd have this one perfect night to remember.