Art of Misalignment

Chapter 10 Cheap Thrills

His hands squeezed her breasts hard, like he needed to prove she was real, that he was still here. He dropped his head, mouth closing over her n****e, sucking with rough, greedy pulls.

Ada arched under him, a soft groan slipping out. “Dylan… easy…”

He didn’t slow down. His head moved lower, shoving between her thighs. His tongue worked fast and sloppy, chasing any leftover fear with raw sensation. Ada’s hips jerked; she grabbed his hair and tugged him up.

“Dylan… now… hurry…”

He pushed up on his elbows and slid inside her. At first he moved slow, grinding deep, like he was trying to feel every second of being alive. But Ada wasn’t having it. A week of terror had left her hollow; she needed something hard and fast to fill it.

“Faster,” she gasped, nails digging into his back. “Just go faster.”

Dylan obeyed. He thrust quick and rough, no rhythm, just instinct. The pressure built fast. A few minutes in he felt it hit—sharp, sudden. He groaned low and came inside her.

Ada’s body went stiff. She felt the warmth, and her face flickered—disappointment, quick and sharp. Her breathing stayed fast, body still wound tight, nowhere near done.

Dylan lifted his head, sheepish. “Sorry… again…”

“It’s okay,” Ada said, voice flat. “It’s fine.”

He didn’t catch the edge in her tone. He just dropped his head onto her chest, breathing her in like he’d won something. Ada stared up at the ceiling, face blank, the frustration sitting heavy behind her eyes.

Liam stood in the lobby of the architectural firm, twirling his car keys without really seeing them. After the mess with Nancy and Lina, something inside him had shifted—he’d gone so far down he felt lighter, like the rules didn’t apply anymore. He told himself he could walk back into Chloe’s life the way he used to, as the easygoing best friend who never had to explain anything.

The elevator dinged. Chloe stepped out, arms full of rolled blueprints. Liam flashed the old half-smile he used to use on her all the time.

“Hey, star architect. I was just in the neighborhood. Coffee? Found a new place that’s actually decent.”

Chloe’s whole body went rigid when she saw him. He looked exactly the same—casual, loose, like nothing had happened.

“I don’t have time, Liam,” she said, eyes sliding past him. Her voice came out flat and cold.

“Fifteen minutes. Come on. You look like you haven’t breathed in days.” He stepped closer, reaching for her wrist without thinking.

Chloe jerked back hard, putting space between them. “Don’t touch me. And stop showing up here. There’s nothing casual left between us. Nothing.”

She brushed past him, heels clicking fast across the marble toward her office. She didn’t turn around once.

Liam stayed rooted to the spot. The smile slipped off his face. He felt the rejection land—sharp, hollow. He’d come in thinking he could just pick up where they left off, like old times. But Chloe had already sealed that door shut.

Chloe sat at her desk, temples pounding. Liam showing up in the lobby had smashed right through the calm she’d been holding together all morning. She stared at the 3D model on her screen—the landmark project she’d spent months of late nights refining—and tried to force her mind back to the work.

“Coffee, Chloe.” Sarah appeared beside her, setting a paper cup down with a light clink. Her smile was thin, edged.

Sarah leaned in a little closer, pretending to glance at the monitor. “Those support pillars are aggressive. One tiny miscalculation in the load data and the whole thing collapses in simulation. Right?”

Chloe didn’t answer. She stood up, needing to move, and walked to the breakroom to run cold water over her hands. Three minutes. That was all it took. Sarah slipped a USB drive from her sleeve, plugged it in, and opened the model file. She didn’t delete anything—that would be obvious. Instead she changed three stress values by 0.5%. Small enough to look like a rounding error, big enough to make the structure fail under dynamic load.

At the afternoon review, Chloe started the simulation with steady confidence. The skyscraper model loaded, clean and solid—until the test kicked in. The structure buckled almost immediately. Red error alerts flooded the screen, beams snapping one after another.

Chloe stared. “This… this can’t be right.”

Dave’s face darkened. “Chloe, this is basic structural failure. We’re presenting to the City Council next week. How did you miss this?”

“I checked it three times.” Her voice was quiet, hands already clammy. “The numbers were—”

“Enough.” Dave cut her off with a heavy sigh. “You’ve been off for weeks. Sarah was right—you’re not just tired, you’re distracted. She’s taking over the landmark project until further notice. You’re on leave. One week. Go home.”

Chloe felt the floor tilt. She looked at Sarah, who was already jotting notes, lips curved in a small, satisfied line.

Chloe walked out of the conference room without another word. Liam left Chloe’s office building and got in his car, keys already in hand. The way she’d looked at him—pure disgust—stuck like a splinter. It hurt, but it also lit something reckless in him. He drove straight to Maya’s place, needing somewhere to land, needing someone to touch him like he wasn’t broken.

Maya opened the door. Her face was ghost-white, eyes huge when she saw him. For a second there was warmth—then something darker flickered behind it, a fear that hadn’t faded.

“Liam… why are you here?” Her voice came out thin.

“I missed you.” He stepped inside without waiting, pulled her close, arms tight around her.

He kissed her neck, hands sliding down her back. The second his fingers brushed her shoulder, she flinched hard—whole body locking up.

“Liam… not tonight. I’m not feeling good.”

He barely registered it. Or maybe he did and just didn’t want to stop. “It’s okay. I’ll go slow.” His mouth moved to her collarbone, hands already tugging at her shirt.

Maya tried to ease back. “Liam, please…”

He lifted her, carried her to the bed, dropped her down. Clothes came off fast—hers, his—buttons popping, fabric tearing. Maya shut her eyes. One tear slipped out the corner. She loved him. She couldn’t tell him what happened last night, couldn’t explain why his touch now made her stomach turn. So she let him.

Liam moved over her, kisses hard and rushed. His hands gripped her hips, pulling her closer. To him, right then, she wasn’t Maya anymore—she was the one place he could still feel wanted, the one thing that made the rest of it shut up for a minute.

He thrust hard, fast, chasing the noise in his head.