Chapter9
1398 Words
Chapter 9
Fiona’s POV
The evening liight filtered through my window, golden and soft—too gentle for the storm raging in my mind. My gaze landed on the dress draped over my chair, a silent witness to everything that had happened last night. My fingers curled into the sheets as the memories flooded back.
His hands, firm and demanding.
His lips, scorching every inch of my skin.
The way his gaze had pinned me, dark and possessive, like he wanted to consume me whole.
A sharp shiver ran down my spine, but I couldn’t tell if it was from lingering desire or something far more dangerous.
I had left before dawn, slipping out while he was still lost in sleep. It had felt like the only option—the only way to keep whatever had happened between us from becoming real. Because if I had stayed… if I had faced him in the morning…
No. I wasn’t ready for that.
But even now, with the distance and silence between us, I knew deep down—this wasn’t over.
Just as the thought settled in my mind, my phone vibrated on the nightstand, the sound shattering the fragile stillness of my room.
My heart lurched.
For a split second, I thought—no, hoped—it was him.
But when I glanced at the screen, a mix of relief and exasperation flooded me.
Amy.
Of course.
With a resigned sigh, I picked up the phone and answered.
“Morning, Amy.”
Silence.
Then— “Morning? That’s all I get? Morning?! After you disappeared on me last night?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. Here we go.
“Amy, I told you I was leaving.”
“Yes, but you didn’t tell me who you left with.”
I groaned, already regretting answering. “Amy—”
“Oh, don’t even try to pull that innocent act, Fi. I saw the way Mr. Tall, Dark, and Sinister was watching you all night. And don’t think I didn’t notice you sneaking off conveniently around the same time he did.”
I bit my lip, my pulse quickening. “You’re imagining things.”
“Ohhh, am I? Then why did you just hesitate?”
Damn it.
Amy gasped dramatically. “Oh my God. You did! You totally left with him! Fiona!”
I flopped back onto my pillows, groaning into the receiver. “Can you not yell into my ear?”
“I knew it! I knew something was going on! Spill. Everything. How was it? Was he as intense as he looks? Did he—”
“AMY.”
She gasped again. “Oh my God, you liked it.”
Heat crawled up my neck. “I am not having this conversation with you.”
“Oh, yes, you are. You can’t just sleep with the most dangerously sexy man in the room and then pretend like it didn’t happen! That’s criminal!”
I squeezed my eyes shut, my pulse pounding. “I didn’t sleep with him.”
Silence.
Then— “Fi.”
I swallowed. “What?”
Her voice dropped to a hushed, almost reverent whisper. “Did you just lie to me?”
I pressed my lips together.
“OH MY GOD, YOU DID.”
“Amy—”
“FIONA.”
“Amy, please—”
“Oh no, you’re not getting out of this. I need details.”
I rubbed my temple. “There are no details.”
She scoffed. “Right. So you’re telling me you left with him, spent the night doing nothing, and then snuck out before sunrise like some one-night-stand cliché? That’s what you’re saying?”
I hesitated.
She gasped. “Oh my God. You actually did that?”
I groaned. “Amy, I swear—”
“Oh my God, Fi. I can’t believe you.” A pause. Then, her voice turned teasing. “Actually, no—I totally can.”
I sighed. “Are you done?”
“No. Because I have one very important question.”
I already knew I wouldn’t like it. “…What?”
“Are you going to see him again?”
The breath left my lungs.
Amy, of course, picked up on it immediately.
“Oh my God.”
I shut my eyes.
This wasn’t over.
And the terrifying part?
A small, dangerous part of me didn’t want it to be.
I swallowed, unsure of how to respond.
Silence.
Then, in a softer, more careful voice, Amy asked, “Fiona… was it just a hook-up?” I hesitated. “It was nothing.”
“Nothing?” She scoffed. “You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself, babe. And why do I get the feeling there’s more to this story?”
Before I could come up with another excuse, a sharp knock echoed through my apartment.
I froze.
A strange unease curled in my stomach.
“Hold on, Amy, someone’s at my door.”
“Wait, who—”
I hung up before she could finish.
Padding toward the door, I instinctively tightened the robe around my waist. It was probably just a package. Maybe even my nosy neighbor.
But when I swung the door open, the air left my lungs.
Dave.
Standing there, his broad frame filling the doorway, his dark eyes unreadable, his presence just as overwhelming as it had been last night.
A slow, assessing gaze dragged over my face, as if he was studying every flicker of emotion, every hesitation.
I should have slammed the door. Should have pretended I wasn’t home.
But my body betrayed me.
I just stood there.
His lips curved, but it wasn’t a smile. It was something sharper. Something unreadable.
“You left.”
His voice was low, smooth—dangerous.
I swallowed hard. “I—” “I wasn’t finished with you, Fiona.”
My heart slammed against my ribs.
His words hung in the air between us, thick with unspoken promises.
I sucked in a breath, forcing steel into my spine. “Last night was a mistake.”
Something flickered in his gaze—something dark and unreadable—but it was gone too fast to place.
“A mistake?” he echoed.
I nodded, gripping the edge of the doorframe. “It shouldn’t have happened. And it won’t happen again.”
He exhaled slowly, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. Not in amusement. In challenge.
“You think you can just walk away?”
I stiffened. “I already did.”
His fingers flexed at his sides like he wanted to reach for me. “You ran.”
A heat crawled up my neck. “I left.”
His jaw tightened, his head tilting slightly as he studied me. “And yet, here you are, standing in front of me, looking at me like you’re already regretting saying no.”
I wasn’t.
Was I?
I squared my shoulders. “Whatever you think this is, it’s not.”
He took a slow step forward, just enough to invade my space. Enough that I could smell the faint scent of his cologne—dark, musky, and intoxicatingly him.
“You didn’t seem so sure last night,” he murmured.
Heat flashed through me, unwelcome and betraying.
I hated that he was right.
I hated that my body reacted to him, even now.
But I had to end this.
I tightened my grip on the door. “It won’t happen again.”
His eyes darkened, a slow, knowing smirk playing at his lips. “That sounds like a challenge.”
“It’s not.”
His fingers grazed the edge of the doorframe beside mine, deliberate and slow.
I jerked my hand back like his touch had burned me.
Dave let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “You can lie to yourself all you want, Fiona. But we both know this isn’t over.”
His confidence made my blood boil.
So I did the only thing I could do.
I stepped back and slammed the door in his face.
A beat of silence.
Then, through the wood, his voice, dark and amused:
“We’ll see about that.”
I pressed my back against the door,
my breath coming in shallow bursts.
This was over.
It had to be.
So why did it feel like it was just the beginning?
- Writer
