The Affair

Chapter 1

The low hum of conversation and the distant sound of luggage wheels rolling across the tile floor barely registered in Kendra ears. She sat at the bar of a dimly lit hotel lounge, the neon glow of the liquor display casting a warm amber hue over the polished counter. The scent of whiskey and stale airport air lingered around her as she swirled the straw in her fourth drink—something strong, something numbing.

Her phone was pressed against her ear, her best friend’s voice crackling through the speaker.

“Three years, Kendra. Three damn years, and that asshole throws it all away for some random girl?”

Kendra let out a bitter laugh, tipping her glass back and taking another sip. The alcohol burned down her throat, dulling the raw ache in her chest. “Not some random girl,” she corrected, her voice edged with exhaustion. “His coworker. The one he told me not to worry about.”

A sharp inhale on the other end of the line. “Oh, hell no. What a cliché piece of garbage. Please tell me you slashed his tires.”

Kendra smirked but shook her head. “No, just threw all his s**t in a dumpster and texted him the address.”

Her best friend cackled. “That’s my girl.”

Kendra sighed, rubbing her temple. “It just sucks, you know? I wasted three years of my life on him. And now I’m back home with no degree, no job, and no clue what the hell I’m doing.”

“You’ll figure it out,” her friend assured her. “You always do.”

Kendra wanted to believe that, but right now, all she wanted was another drink. Maybe then the reality of her situation wouldn’t feel so crushing. She lifted a finger to signal the bartender, already sinking deeper into the haze of alcohol and regret.

The seat beside her shifted as someone sat down. She barely noticed—just another traveler passing through. But as she finished her conversation, she became aware of a quiet presence beside her, a steady energy she couldn’t quite ignore.

She ended the call with a sigh, setting her phone down. That’s when she finally glanced to her left.

The man beside her was older—early forties, maybe—but strikingly handsome. Dark hair, a strong jawline dusted with stubble, and piercing blue eyes that held an intensity she wasn’t prepared for. He was dressed in a crisp button-down, sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal strong forearms. A glass of whiskey sat in front of him, untouched.

“You really threw all his stuff in a dumpster?” His deep voice carried just enough amusement to make her smirk.

She leaned her elbow on the bar, tilting her head toward him. “You were eavesdropping?”

He shrugged, taking a slow sip of his drink. “Hard not to. You weren’t exactly whispering.”

Kendra sighed, swirling the straw in her glass. “Yeah, well, it’s been a night.”

The man nodded knowingly. “I get that.”

Something about the way he said it made her pause. She studied him a little closer. “You here on business?”

A small, humorless smile tugged at his lips. “Something like that.” He tapped his fingers against the glass before meeting her gaze again. “More like avoiding something I probably shouldn’t be avoiding.”

Kendra huffed a quiet laugh. “Sounds familiar.”

That was how it started. A casual conversation between two strangers in a bar—both a little lost, both nursing their own regrets. What should have been polite small talk stretched into something more. They talked for hours about life, relationships, and everything in between.

Kendra found herself opening up in a way she hadn’t in a long time. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the anonymity, or maybe it was just him—his quiet confidence, the way he actually listened. He didn’t offer empty reassurances, just understood in a way that made her feel seen.

But when Kendra finally reached for her drink, her fingers slipped against the damp glass. Before she could react, the entire thing tipped over, spilling straight down her shirt.

“s**t!” she gasped, pushing back from the bar as the cold liquid seeped into her clothes.

The man beside her immediately grabbed a handful of napkins, handing them to her. “Here,” he said, his deep voice laced with amusement.

Kendra took them, dabbing at her soaked top, but it was useless. The fabric clung to her skin, sticky and uncomfortable. She groaned. “Great. Just great.”

The man hesitated for a beat, then set his drink down. “My room’s upstairs,” he said casually. “I can grab you a clean shirt.”

Kendra blinked at him, surprised by the offer. “That’s… not necessary. I can just—”

“You’re drenched,” he pointed out, leaning slightly closer. “I promise, no expectations. Just a dry shirt.”

She hesitated. She barely knew him. But something about him—his confidence, the way he had been nothing but easy conversation and understanding all night—made her feel safe. And, honestly? She really didn’t want to sit in a wet shirt for the rest of the night.

“…Alright,” she relented. “Just a shirt.”

The ghost of a smirk played on his lips. “Just a shirt,” he agreed.

———

When the elevator doors opened, Kendra immediately realized she had underestimated just who this man was.

The hallway they stepped into wasn’t just for regular guests—it was the VIP level. And when he swiped his key card and pushed open the door, her suspicions were confirmed.

The suite was massive. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city skyline, sleek furniture adorned the space, and the warm scent of expensive cologne lingered in the air.

Kendra folded her arms, raising a brow. “So… you’re either filthy rich or someone important.”

The man chuckled as he headed toward the walk-in closet. “Depends on who you ask,” he said, disappearing inside.

Kendra took a deep breath, glancing around the luxurious space. This was insane. What was she even doing here? She should’ve just called it a night. Without thinking she pulled off her shirt and tossed it on a chair.

The man walked back into the room and froze.

His breath hitched in his chest, pulse hammering.

Kendra stood there, her damp shirt discarded onto the nearby chair, leaving her in just her black lace bra and leggings. She had been waiting for the new shirt—completely unaware of the effect she was having on him.

He gripped the clean T-shirt in his hands, but for a moment, he couldn’t move.

She was perfect.

The soft curve of her waist, the smooth expanse of her stomach, the way her dark hair cascaded over her shoulders like something out of a dream—his dream.

A war raged inside him. He was trying to be good. He had just started seeing someone. He wasn’t supposed to want this woman standing in front of him.

But God, did he want her.

Slowly, he walked toward her, the shirt still clutched in his hands, his gaze darkening with something undeniable.

Kendra noticed. She saw the way his blue eyes roamed over her, how his chest rose and fell a little heavier.

She should’ve stopped this. Should’ve taken the shirt and left.

But she didn’t.

When his fingers brushed against her bare shoulder, she leaned into the touch.

His hands ghosted down her arms, slow and deliberate. When she didn’t pull away, he met her gaze—her deep brown eyes filled with the same desire burning inside of him. His attention dropped to her lips. Full. Plump. Inviting.

And then he kissed her.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t tentative.

It was deep, hungry—like something they had both been craving without realizing it.

Kendra melted into him, her hands gripping his shirt as their bodies pressed together. His fingers traced her waist, her back, her hips, pulling her closer, feeling every inch of her against him. She moan softly into his mouth, sending a shiver down his spine.

His control was slipping. He knew it.

But just as he was about to pull her to the bed—

Bzzzz!

Kendra’s phone vibrated on the nearby table, breaking the moment like a bucket of cold water.

Reality slammed into her.

She pulled back abruptly, breathless, her fingers touching her swollen lips. “s**t—I was supposed to be home hours ago.”

He was still catching his breath, his hands lingering on her waist as if reluctant to let her go. “Wait—”

“I—I’m sorry, I have to go,” she stammered, grabbing her damp shirt off the chair. She hurried toward the door, pulse racing, trying to ignore the way her body still ached for him.

She didn’t stop. Didn’t give him a chance to say anything else.

She just fled.

Leaving behind nothing but the ghost of a kiss.