For the First Time Again
1067 Words
Adrian Sinclair’s POV
There were a few moments in life when time ceased to function. When seconds became stretched, warped, suspended—like the air had thickened with unspoken truths.
This was one of those moments.
The stranger from last night—no, Rowan, Charlotte’s brother—stood just a foot away from me, dressed in a tailored navy suit that did nothing to dull the dangerous glint in his eye. And worst of all, that smirk… He remembered everything.
I hadn’t imagined the night. The kiss. The hotel room. The warmth of his hands. All of it had happened—and now it was standing in front of me like a beautifully wrapped time bomb.
“I—” I started, but no words came out. My mouth opened, then closed again like a goldfish gasping in champagne.
Charlotte, oblivious to the quiet disaster unfolding between us, turned to her brother. “Rowan just got back from a project in Singapore. You two actually have a lot in common—he’s in finance, too.”
“Delightful,” I croaked. My throat was dry enough to crack.
Rowan extended his hand again, polite this time, but there was mischief in his gaze—like he was daring me to react.
I took his hand. Firm grip. Warm fingers. A spark that had no business existing here, surrounded by porcelain platters and violin music.
“Adrian,” he said, voice low, pitched only for me. “What a pleasure. I must say, last night was… unforgettable.”
My spine stiffened. “You’re enjoying this.”
“Immensely.”
“Good,” I snapped quietly. “Because this is a nightmare for me.”
Rowan tilted his head, smiling faintly. “Then maybe we should talk. Privately.”
God, yes. We needed to talk—immediately, before I lost my mind.
“Excuse us, Charlotte,” I said, forcing calm. “I’d like to get to know your brother a little better.”
She beamed, completely unaware. “Of course. Just be back before they bring out the cake.”
We slipped away from the ballroom, winding through a maze of corridors until we found a side room—a quiet study filled with old books and heavy curtains. I closed the door behind us and rounded on him.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Rowan raised an eyebrow, unbothered. “I told you—I’m Charlotte’s brother. This is her engagement party, remember?”
“No, I mean—how is this even real?” I ran a hand through my hair. “Last night, that… that was supposed to be meaningless. One night. You weren’t supposed to show up today looking like that, smiling like you know all my secrets.”
His expression softened. “It wasn’t meaningless to me.”
That stopped me.
I stared at him, stunned into silence.
He took a step closer, his voice dropping. “You weren’t just some drunk i***t. You were hurting. Angry. Desperate. I saw it in your eyes. That kiss—it wasn’t just a joke. Not to you. And definitely not to me.”
I swallowed hard. “You don’t understand. My entire life is controlled. I don’t get to fall for strangers in bars.”
“Maybe you should,” Rowan said quietly. “Because whoever decided this life for you? They’re killing you.”
My chest ached. “You don’t know me.”
“I know enough.” He crossed his arms. “You’re marrying my sister to make your father happy. But you’re miserable. And gay.”
The word hit like a slap, even though it was true.
“Keep your voice down.”
“There’s no one here, Adrian.” His tone softened. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”
I turned away, pacing the room. “This can’t happen.”
“It already did.”
I shot him a glare. “I don’t mean that. I mean this—us. If there even is an us. I can’t afford to get involved with you.”
“Then why are you looking at me like that?”
I hated that he was right. I was looking at him like that. Like I wanted to kiss him again, strip away the layers of logic and legacy that ruled my world and just feel something real for once.
“You’re Charlotte’s brother,” I said. “Do you even realize how complicated this is?”
“Of course I do. But I didn’t plan it either. I just walked into a bar and found you there, looking like the world had chewed you up. I thought maybe we were just two strangers colliding at the wrong time.”
His voice softened even more.
“But maybe it was the right time.”
I pressed my hand to my face, leaning back against the bookshelves. “God, this is insane.”
Rowan stepped closer, now just inches away. “Insane or not, it happened. You kissed me. You took me back to that hotel. You opened up to me.”
“I was drunk.”
“You were honest.” His gaze pierced mine. “And I liked the real you.”
Something cracked inside me.
I didn’t move. Couldn’t. But my heart thundered in my chest, loud enough that I was sure he could hear it.
Rowan reached out, gently brushing his fingers against my arm. “Tell me what you want, Adrian. Not what your father wants. Not what society expects. You.”
I hesitated. For a heartbeat. A breath. A lifetime.
Then, in a whisper, I said, “I don’t know.”
And it was the truth. I didn’t know what I wanted. All I knew was that in this quiet room, surrounded by the chaos of a future I never chose, Rowan felt like the only real thing I’d touched in years.
Rowan stepped back, giving me space. “Well, I’m not going anywhere. You know where to find me.”
He walked toward the door, pausing before opening it.
“And Adrian?”
I looked up.
He smiled—soft this time, not teasing. “Happy birthday.”
Then he was gone.
And I was left in that silent study, with my heart in pieces and a thousand questions I didn’t know how to answer.
- Writer
