One room, One bed
972 Words
The company car dropped them in front of the towering glass hotel, rain spattering against the pavement.
Aria stepped out first, her heels clicking sharply on the wet stone. She clutched her blazer tighter against the wind, glaring at Damian as he leisurely closed his umbrella behind her. Of course, he didn’t rush. Damian Hale never rushed.
“You could have held that over me,” she snapped.
He smirked, falling into step beside her. “And miss the sight of you glaring? Not a chance.”
She shot him a look sharp enough to cut glass. “Remind me why I agreed to this trip with you?”
“Because the board trusts us to secure this deal,” he replied smoothly. “And because you couldn’t stand the thought of me winning without you.”
Her teeth clenched, but she didn’t answer.
Inside, the hotel lobby was all marble floors and chandeliers dripping gold. The receptionist smiled warmly as they approached.
“Reservation for Hale and Carter,” Damian said, his voice dipped in charm.
The woman clicked through her computer, then hesitated. “Ah—there seems to have been a mix-up. I’m terribly sorry, but the system shows only one room reserved.”
Aria blinked. “One… what?”
Damian leaned an elbow on the counter, completely unfazed. “That’s fine. We’ll take it.”
Aria nearly choked. “Excuse me? No, we will not!”
The receptionist’s smile wavered. “Unfortunately, due to the storm, we’re at full capacity. No other rooms are available tonight.”
Aria turned slowly toward Damian, eyes blazing. “You planned this.”
He raised a brow, feigning innocence. “As flattering as that is, princess, even I can’t control the weather or hotel booking errors.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but thunder boomed outside, shaking the glass doors. The receptionist winced apologetically. “Would you like to check in?”
Aria inhaled sharply through her nose, then snatched the keycard before Damian could reach for it. “Fine. But I’m taking the bed. You can sleep on the floor.”
Damian’s grin widened. “We’ll see.”
---
The room was far too elegant for their predicament. Plush carpets, velvet drapes, a view of the stormy skyline—and one king-sized bed waiting like a cruel joke.
Aria dropped her suitcase with a thud. “Unbelievable.”
Damian loosened his tie, casually tossing his jacket over a chair. “Relax. It’s just one night.”
She spun to face him. “You think I’m going to share that bed with you?”
He leaned against the desk, eyes glinting. “Why? Afraid you might enjoy it?”
Her cheeks burned, though she masked it with fury. “You are insufferable.”
He chuckled, unbuttoning his cuffs. “So you keep saying.”
Aria grabbed a spare blanket from the closet and threw it onto the floor with pointed determination. “This is your spot.”
Damian raised an amused brow but didn’t argue. Instead, he sat on the edge of the bed, watching her pace. “You know, for someone who claims to hate me, you spend a lot of energy thinking about me.”
She stopped mid-step. “You’re delusional.”
“Maybe.” He tilted his head, smirking. “But the way you’re blushing says otherwise.”
Her stomach flipped. “I am not blushing.”
He said nothing, only smiled wider.
---
The night dragged on with the storm raging outside. Aria curled stubbornly to one side of the bed, arms crossed, while Damian stretched out on the floor with maddening calm.
She tried to sleep. Tried to ignore the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the occasional shift of his body against the carpet, the strange comfort of knowing he was close.
But her mind betrayed her. It replayed every smirk, every sharp word, every stolen glance that lingered longer than it should.
At some point past midnight, thunder cracked so loudly it rattled the windows. Aria jolted upright, heart hammering.
“You alright?” Damian’s voice came from the darkness, rough with sleep.
“I’m fine,” she muttered, clutching the blanket tighter.
He pushed himself up, candlelight from the bedside table catching his face. “You don’t sound fine.”
She glared. “Why do you even care?”
For once, his smirk was gone. His gaze held something quieter, almost gentle. “Because I do.”
The words stole her breath.
Before she could reply, the lights flickered back to life. Electricity buzzed through the room, brightening everything.
And there they were—Aria on the bed, Damian on the floor—staring at each other across the space of secrets neither dared to name.
Her pulse raced. She should have looked away. She should have thrown another insult, anything to shatter the tension pressing in on them.
But Damian moved first. Slowly, deliberately, he rose from the floor and crossed the distance.
He stopped at the edge of the bed, looking down at her. His voice was low, dangerous. “You keep fighting me like I’m the enemy… but tell me the truth, Aria. Is that really what you want?”
Her breath caught.
He leaned closer, his shadow falling over her, his eyes burning into hers. For one suspended heartbeat, the world outside ceased to exist.
And then—he pulled back, running a hand through his hair with a frustrated laugh.
“Go to sleep, princess,” he said hoarsely, turning away. “Before I do something we’ll both regret.”
Aria sat frozen long after he lay back down, her chest tight, her thoughts in chaos.
Because the worst part wasn’t that she almost let him kiss her.
The worst part was that she wanted him to.
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