One Night, Wrong Man

Chapter 4 — The Wrong Choice

*POV Derby*

The cool night air hit my face the moment we stepped outside, but it barely touched the mess inside my head. Everything still felt loud, even after leaving the bar behind.

Neither of us suggested where to go next. We simply walked, side by side, letting the city carry us wherever the next block led. Conversation had slowed to almost nothing. The conversation faded on its own. Strangely, the silence wasn't uncomfortable. It just gave my thoughts more room to breathe, and somehow that made my chest feel even heavier.

Halfway down the block, my feet refused to move anymore. I stopped so abruptly he took another step before noticing.. No dramatic sobbing. Just quiet tears that kept falling no matter how many times I blinked them away.. Five years. All of it gone in one night.

Jordan didn't rush to hug me or tell me everything would be okay. He quietly reached into his coat pocket, unfolded the same handkerchief, and held it out without saying a word. Then he matched my pace again as if giving me space was the most natural thing in the world. His presence was steady, warm, never pushing. That quiet respect somehow made me feel safer than any comforting words could have.

I wiped my face, the fabric still carrying a faint trace of his scent. I looked over at him. "Why are you still here?" My voice came out rougher than I'd intended. “Why are you still here?” I asked, voice rough.

He slipped one hand into his pocket before answering, his eyes staying on the road ahead for another step.. “Because you haven’t told me to leave.”

The conversation faded again, and we continued down the quiet sidewalk. The silence between us wasn’t awkward anymore. It felt charged. Every brush of his arm against mine sent warmth spreading through me. His steps matched mine without effort. I could feel the heat radiating from his body, solid and real in the cool night.

A few blocks later, we found ourselves standing in front of a modern hotel without either of us remembering who had slowed down first. Warm light spilled through the glass entrance, reflecting across the wet pavement beneath our feet.. My heart hammered as I stared at the entrance. This was the moment I could still walk away. Go home. Face the empty apartment and the memories waiting there.

Instead of looking at the hotel again, I looked at him.. Our eyes met, and neither of us looked away first. Neither of us spoke. Somehow, the silence carried more weight than another conversation could have. His gaze dropped briefly to my lips, then back up, dark and intense.

"What if tomorrow..." I hesitated, then forced the words out. "...we pretend tonight never happened?"

He held my gaze for another second before giving a slow nod. "If that's really what you want," he said softly. "Then that's what we'll do."

His expression stayed calm, but there was a hesitation that made me wonder if his answer was only half the truth. They burned with the same quiet hunger I felt twisting low in my belly.

I closed my eyes for a brief second. When I opened them again, my mind was already made up.

Before I could second-guess myself, I reached for his hand. His hand closed around mine almost immediately. Firm. Certain. As though he'd been waiting to see which way I'd choose.. No hesitation. Without another word, we stepped through the glass doors together.

The elevator doors slid shut behind us, and neither of us spoke. The doors slid shut, sealing us in. For the first time that night, the noise of the city disappeared completely. The small space felt intimate, charged. I could hear my own heartbeat, feel the warmth of his body so close. His thumb brushed lightly over my knuckles, sending sparks up my arm.

The elevator doors slid open onto his floor. We stepped into the quiet hallway, our footsteps muffled by the thick carpet. He stopped in front of his door but didn't reach for the handle right away. Instead, he looked at me, silently giving me one more chance to walk away.

I took a slow breath, then crossed the doorway before I could change my mind.

The soft click of the door echoed through the room, and suddenly the city outside felt impossibly far away.. Warm lamplight spilled across the room. It was quiet enough that I could hear my own breathing, still uneven from everything that had happened tonight.

For a long second neither of us spoke. Then I closed the distance between us and kissed him first.

It wasn't gentle. It was the kind of kiss born from too many emotions colliding at once, grief, anger, loneliness, all looking for somewhere to land. I’d been carrying poured into the way my lips crashed against his. He answered the kiss without rushing it, one hand settling carefully at my waist as though checking, one last time, that this was what I wanted., His touch was steady, never demanding, never forcing me closer than I chose to be. He lifted me easily, pressing my back against the wall. The cool surface contrasted with the heat of his body pinning me there.

His mouth moved to my neck, teeth grazing my skin in a slow bite that pulled a soft moan from me. I arched into him, fingers threading through his hair. Every touch felt deliberate, reverent almost. His hands slid under my top, palms hot against my bare skin, exploring like he wanted to memorize every inch.

We moved to the bed in a tangle of clothes and heated breaths. He was careful, always watching my face, always ready to stop if I changed my mind. But I didn’t want to stop. I wanted to feel something real. Something that wasn’t betrayal.

When he finally sank into me, slow and deep, my back bowed off the sheets. A broken sound escaped my throat. He whispered my name against my skin, voice rough and low, each movement powerful yet controlled. His eyes never left mine, dark and intense, like he saw me—really saw me—in that moment.

It wasn’t just physical. The way he held me close afterward, arms wrapped around me like he didn’t want to let go, the way his fingers traced lazy patterns on my back. For those stolen hours, the loneliness eased. I felt wanted. Chosen.

Later, as we lay tangled together, his body curved protectively around mine from behind, lips brushing the nape of my neck in a soft kiss. His breath was warm against my skin.

I closed my eyes, letting the dangerous satisfaction settle deep in my bones. It felt too good. Too right.

Morning would come whether I was ready or not. And with it, every choice I'd made tonight would finally demand an answer.

**To be continued...**