Kaiden Meets Trouble in Heels .
1074 Words
Amelia did not walk back into the club.
She followed him.
It was an important distinction in her mind. Walking implied intention and balance. Following implied curiosity, stubbornness, and the refusal to let an unanswered question exist. Kaiden Blackwood moved ahead of her with the same controlled stride he had outside, coat falling perfectly on his shoulders, attention already redirected back into whatever serious world he lived in. Amelia trailed behind him, heels clicking too loudly, head buzzing, brain trying to piece together memories that suddenly felt far too vivid to ignore.
The moment they crossed the threshold back into the noise and lights, it hit her.
The posture. The voice. The irritation.
Her steps slowed. Her breath caught.
“Oh my God,” she said aloud, stopping completely.
Kaiden did not stop.
Her eyes widened as recognition crashed into her like a delayed wave.
“Oh my God,” she said louder.
Still nothing.
Her mouth dropped open in dramatic offense.
“Kaiden” she shouted.
Heads turned.
He stopped this time.
“Kaiden,” she repeated, voice rising with each step as she closed the distance between them. “Kaiden Blackwood.”
Slowly, he turned around.
There it was.
That face. Older. Sharper. Still infuriatingly composed.
“You,” she said, pointing at him like she had just uncovered a national secret. “You are Lucas’s friend. That grumpy one. The one who never smiled and always sat in the corner at our houses like furniture.”
A murmur rippled through nearby conversations. Kaiden simply looked at her.
Then he smirked.
It was subtle. Controlled. But unmistakable.
Her stomach flipped.
So he remembers.
He had recognized her the moment she stepped into his space outside. The eyes were the same. The chaos was louder now, but the essence was unmistakable. Lucas’s little sister had grown into trouble wrapped in silver fabric.
“Yes,” he said calmly. “That would be me.”
“You knew,” she accused.
“I did.”
“And you still talked to me like I was a random drunk girl on the sidewalk.”
“You were a random drunk girl on the sidewalk.”
She gasped. “Rude.”
He turned again, clearly done with the conversation.
“Oh no you don’t,” Amelia said, immediately following. “You do not just reappear into my life after disappearing for years and then walk away.”
“I didn’t disappear,” he replied without slowing. “I relocated.”
“You ran away.”
He glanced at her. “I went to France.”
“You ran away to France,” she insisted. “Same thing.”
They passed through a hallway away from the main floor. The noise dimmed slightly, replaced with softer music and quieter conversations. Amelia kept pace with him, fueled by alcohol and unresolved curiosity.
“It has been ages,” she continued. “Do you remember when Lucas broke his arm and blamed you because you dared him to jump off the stairs?”
“I did not dare him,” Kaiden said flatly. “I said it was a bad idea.”
“And he still did it,” she said proudly. “That tracks.”
He did not respond.
She squinted at him. “Do you remember me at all?”
“Yes.”
“That was not convincing.”
“I remember you,” he said again. “You were loud.”
“I was eight.”
“You were loud at eight.”
She laughed. “You are still grumpy.”
“I’m busy.”
“Busy at a club.”
He stopped in front of a set of double doors guarded by a discreet attendant. Kaiden nodded once and the doors opened.
Amelia blinked.
“Oh,” she said.
They stepped into a private lounge that felt like a different world. Plush seating. Dim lighting. Clean lines. Quiet luxury. The air itself felt expensive.
Kaiden gestured once. “Sit.”
“No,” Amelia said, immediately walking past him and choosing a seat herself. “I will sit where I want.”
She dropped onto a couch, crossing her legs without any invitation. Her dress caught the light again, silver against dark leather. She leaned back, eyes roaming.
“Wow,” she murmured. “This place is beautiful.”
Kaiden ignored her, pulling out his phone and typing with focused intensity. Amelia watched him for a moment, head tilted.
He had always been like this. Distant. Controlled. Untouchable. Even back then, he had seemed older than everyone else.
Her gaze drifted around the room again.
“Wait,” she said suddenly, sitting up straighter. “This place.”
He did not look up.
“The Woods,” she read from a discreet plaque near the door. Her eyes widened again. “This is The Woods.”
He paused.
The Woods was not just a hotel. It was the hotel. The biggest entertainment destination in Los Angeles. Exclusive. Untouchable. Rumored to be owned by someone who never showed his face.
Her head snapped back to him.
“You own this,” she said.
“I manage it.”
She scoffed. “Please. Lucas would say manage when he means own.”
Kaiden’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen.
Lucas.
He exhaled slowly, irritation flickering through him as he typed.
Your sister is with me.
The reply came almost instantly.
Perfect. Take care of her.
Kaiden stared at the message for a second longer than necessary.
Of course.
He slipped the phone back into his pocket and finally looked at Amelia.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said. “You’re drunk.”
“I’m celebratory,” she corrected. “And I am very safe. You are literally my brother’s friend.”
“That does not automatically make you safe.”
She frowned. “Do you hate everyone or just me?”
“Mostly everyone.”
She smiled. “I missed this.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You missed me being irritated.”
“Yes,” she said brightly. “It feels like home.”
He looked away again, returning to his work.
Amelia watched him, something soft tugging at her chest.
He had changed. But not entirely.
Still serious. Still guarded. Still infuriatingly attractive.
And suddenly, for reasons she did not yet understand, she did not want him to send her away.
Not yet.
- Writer
