The Maybach came to a gentle stop outside Syrah, the sleek, modern building shimmering under South Wickham's evening lights.

As the driver opened my door, a cool breeze swept in, carrying with it a faint earthy tone from the vegetation nearby. I stepped out, smoothing my dress and glancing up at the glowing rooftop far above.

Inside, the atmosphere exuded effortless elegance-polished wood, soft lighting, and the faint hum of a piano somewhere in the distance.

A hostess greeted me warmly, her smile as practiced as the way she clasped her hands.

"Good evening, Ms. Nielson. This way, please."

I followed her, the sound of my heels tapping against the floor oddly grounding.

A suited guard accompanied us, his presence a silent reminder that this wasn't just dinner-it was something more.

The elevator ride was brief but weighty, my pulse quickening with each passing second.

The doors opened to the rooftop, and the sight took my breath away.

String lights looped between metal beams, casting a warm, romantic glow. Candles flickered on every table, their tiny flames mirroring the stars scattered across the dark sky. The city's lights twinkled in the distance, and for a moment, it felt like the world had narrowed down to just this one perfect scene.

And there he was.

Alex sat at the far end of the rooftop, his chair angled to take in the view but his attention wholly on me.

His white shirt was open at the collar, his sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal the faint lines of veins along his forearms. The jacket draped over his chair added to the image of effortless confidence.

He stood as I approached, his movements fluid, purposeful. When I reached the table, he pulled out my chair, his smile warm and genuine.

"Ruby," he said softly, his voice threading through the cool night air.

"You look beautiful tonight."

Heat rushed to my cheeks, and I cursed how easily he could make me blush.

"Thank you," I managed, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear as I sat.

Before I could collect myself, a server appeared, expertly pouring wine into two delicate glasses. Alex thanked him with a brief nod, then dismissed him with a flick of his wrist.

As I sipped the wine, the silence stretched, heavy with unspoken words.

My gaze drifted around the empty rooftop, the exclusivity of it all both thrilling and unnerving.

"It's just us?" I asked, my voice softer than I intended.

Alex leaned back, his hand resting on the stem of his glass.

"I reserved the rooftop," he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "I wanted us to have privacy."

I frowned slightly.

"But what about the other guests? Didn't they make reservations too?"

His laugh was low and rich, like the hum of a cello.

"There it is again. Always thinking about everyone else." He leaned forward, his gaze holding mine.

"When was the last time you did something just for you, Ruby? Something selfish?"

The question hit me harder than I expected.

My fingers traced the rim of my glass as I searched for an answer. "Helping people makes me happy," I said finally, my voice steady but quieter than before.

Alex tilted his head, studying me in a way that felt both intimate and unsettling. "I don't believe you," he said simply.

I blinked, taken aback. "Excuse me?"

"You give so much of yourself," he continued, his voice gentle but firm.

"But have you ever stopped to think about what you're left with? What you deserve?"

His words lingered, their weight pressing down on me. I didn't respond right away, instead letting my gaze wander to the flickering candles and the city lights beyond.

Finally, I spoke, my voice tinged with curiosity.

"You're like a balloon," I said, the thought forming even as I spoke it.

"Drifting higher and higher, untethered. You're free, but the farther you go, the harder it is to come back down. And if you go too high..." I hesitated, the image sharp and clear in my mind. "You might leave this world entirely."

Alex's brow lifted in surprise, but instead of countering, he smiled-a slow, knowing curve of his lips.

"And you," he said, leaning closer, "are like a tree. Rooted. Solid. Reliable. But so firmly planted that you might never see what the world looks like from above."

His words hung between us, delicate and heavy all at once. I let out a soft laugh, raising my glass.

"Touché."

We clinked glasses, the soft chime breaking the quiet. I took a sip, savoring the way the wine warmed me from the inside out.

Alex watched me with a quiet intensity, his gaze unwavering.

"You know," he said, his voice softer now, "you deserve to fly every once in a while. To let go, even just for a moment."

I looked at him then, really looked at him. There was something in his eyes-something wistful, almost vulnerable. For all his confidence and charm, there was a part of him that felt... lonely.

Detached.

Floating in a world of his own creation.

"That's where balance comes in," I said after a moment, my voice thoughtful. "Filling your life with the right people. People who can anchor you but also give you the chance to fly."

Alex's lips curved into a smile, one that felt softer, more genuine.

"Then I hope," he said, his voice low and steady, "that you'll be that anchor for me."

My breath caught, and heat bloomed in my cheeks. I turned my attention to the view, the city lights shimmering like stars brought down to earth.

It was easier to look at them than to face the weight of his words. Easier to let the night wrap around us like a soft, warm cocoon.

But even as I gazed at the horizon, I couldn't ignore the way his words settled deep inside me, stirring something I hadn't felt in a long time.

Alex leaned back in his chair, his movements smooth yet deliberate.

"Whenever you're ready," he said softly, gesturing to the menu. "No rush."

I nodded, reaching for the menu like it was a shield, something to anchor me while I calmed the quiet storm swirling inside.

The rooftop was beautiful, the ambiance dreamlike, yet my nerves felt frayed at the edges. I'd forgotten what this kind of attention felt like-gentle but heavy, like the weight of his gaze on me now.

The list of dishes swam in front of my eyes. Fancy words, elegant descriptions. I tried to focus, to pick something, but my thoughts kept slipping.

Peeking over the rim of the menu, I saw Alex watching me, his expression unreadable but steady. It was unnerving, how unhurried he seemed, as if time bent differently around him.

The waiter approached, saving me from my thoughts.

"What's the chef's recommendation?" I asked, my voice steady, though inside, I felt like I was treading water.

He listed the options: seared scallops to start, followed by grilled sea bass with citrus beurre blanc, and ending with a decadent chocolate fondant.

The descriptions were as polished as the setting, but I found myself glancing at Alex, needing his input for reasons I couldn't fully explain.

His lips curved slightly, his nod almost imperceptible. Somehow, that simple gesture steadied me.

"That sounds perfect," I said, handing the menu back.

The waiter nodded and slipped away, leaving us alone again.

Alex shifted in his seat, leaning forward just enough to close some of the space between us. His voice dropped to a quieter tone, soft but deliberate.

"You seem a little uneasy. I hope I haven't made you uncomfortable."

I looked up quickly, startled by the genuine concern in his voice. His eyes searched mine, his usual confidence tempered with something gentler, more vulnerable.

"No, not at all," I assured him. "It's just... it's been a while since I've done something like this." I gestured vaguely around us. "Put myself in this position, I mean."

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze steady. "Why do you think that is?"

His question felt like a probe, gently peeling back layers I wasn't sure I wanted to reveal. I hesitated, searching for an answer that wouldn't feel like a confession.

"I like to protect my peace," I said finally, the words simple but carrying more weight than I intended.

Alex leaned back, considering my response. His lips twitched into a half-smile. "Fair enough." Then, with a teasing edge, he added, "Does your family have anything to do with that decision?"

A surprised laugh escaped me, shaking off some of the tension.

"No," I said firmly, shaking my head. "When it comes to my love life, that's my decision. My family doesn't get a say."

He seemed to take that in, nodding slightly.

"Good," he said simply, but there was a note of approval in his tone that made me wonder if he'd been expecting a different answer.

The conversation dipped into a comfortable pause, and I reached for my glass of wine. As I took a sip, Alex spoke again, his tone casual but his words deliberate.

"Speaking of family, I recently reached out to a young engineer. He's starting his own agency and looking for trainees." He paused, watching me closely. "I mentioned your brother, Donald."

His name was like a jolt to my system, stirring memories I'd worked hard to bury. For a brief second, my thoughts flickered to the last time I'd seen him. I pushed the memory aside quickly, forcing a polite smile.

"That's... kind of you," I said lightly, careful to keep my tone even.

Alex didn't press, though something in his expression suggested he'd caught the shift in my demeanor. Before the silence could grow awkward, the waiter returned with our first course, the seared scallops.

The sight of the delicate dish brought an unexpected wave of relief. I focused on the meal, savoring the tender scallops and their bright, citrusy sauce. For a moment, I allowed myself to enjoy the simple pleasure of the food.

Alex ate with the same unhurried grace he seemed to carry everywhere. Occasionally, I caught him watching me, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

"You like it?" he asked, his voice low but laced with amusement.

"It's amazing," I admitted, unable to keep the small smile from my face.

By the time the second course arrived, the tension between us had begun to dissolve. The grilled sea bass was perfection on a plate, each bite melting in my mouth. Alex shared a story about a time he'd embarrassed himself during a pitch meeting, his self-deprecating humor drawing genuine laughter from me.

It felt easy, natural, like the edges of the world had softened around us.

When the dessert arrived-a rich chocolate fondant paired with vanilla ice cream-I couldn't help the small, contented sigh that escaped me.

"This," I said, grinning at Alex, "might be the highlight of the night."

His chuckle was warm, the sound wrapping around me like a soft blanket. He raised his glass, his eyes never leaving mine.

"To highlights," he said simply.

I raised mine, the crystal clinking softly as they met.

The sweetness of the dessert was a perfect end to the meal, but the real sweetness lingered in the air between us, heavy with unspoken possibilities.

🍓🍓

Alex ordered a platter of fresh fruits and a small pot of fondue, the fondue platter sat between us, its sweet, chocolatey aroma weaving through the air.

He dipped a strawberry with an easy grace, placing it onto his plate before glancing at me.

"You should try it," he suggested, his voice soft yet insistent.

I reached for a slice of pineapple, dipping it cautiously into the molten chocolate. The warmth coated my fingers as I placed the piece on my plate. Despite the decadent treat in front of me, my attention was drawn back to Alex. He seemed perfectly at ease, leaning slightly back in his chair, his gaze tracing my every move.

I shifted in my seat, clearing my throat. "It's delicious," I murmured after taking a bite, hoping to fill the silence with something other than the quiet thrum of my heartbeat.

Alex smiled, watching me intently before speaking. "Are you free this weekend?"

The question caught me mid-chew, and I swallowed quickly, dabbing at my lips with the napkin. "This weekend?" I repeated, stalling for a moment to organize my thoughts. "I... no. I'm spending time with my family."

He nodded slowly, as if processing the words. "Family time is important," he said evenly. There was no reproach in his tone, only a quiet acceptance that carried a strange weight.

Still, a flicker of guilt stirred in me, and I added hastily, "Maybe another time? I'll let you know when things aren't so busy."

His lips quirked into a faint smile. "I'd like that."

I relaxed slightly, the tension in my shoulders easing-until I noticed his gaze shift abruptly to his side, toward the railing of the balcony. The movement was subtle but precise, as though something invisible had caught his attention.

His posture changed, too. His easy grace stiffened, his jaw setting in a way I hadn't seen before. The shift was almost imperceptible, but to someone sitting this close, it felt as if the air itself had thickened.

"Alex?" I asked softly, setting my fork down. "Is everything okay?"

For a moment, he didn't respond. His profile was sharp against the dim light, his eyes narrowed slightly as if searching for something just beyond the edge of the rooftop.

Then, as quickly as the tension had appeared, it vanished. He turned back to me with a warm smile, the kind that made it impossible to doubt him. "Sorry," he said, his tone as smooth as ever. "Just lost in thought."

The smile was convincing, but the moment had left a crack in his otherwise flawless façade. I tilted my head, watching him closely. "Are you sure?"

"Positive," he replied, his voice steady and unwavering. His gaze locked onto mine, and for a moment, the world seemed to right itself again.

I nodded slowly, though the unease in my chest lingered like a faint echo. "Okay," I said quietly, not entirely convinced but willing to let it go.

He leaned forward, shifting the conversation as though the interruption had never happened.

"I'll be heading to Europe soon," he said, his tone conversational now. "My father and I have a major project we're overseeing."

"That sounds exciting," I replied, though my thoughts still circled back to the fleeting hardness in his expression moments ago.

"It is," he agreed, "but first, I need to stop in California. One of our completed projects is being commissioned by the mayor, and I'll be representing my father at the ceremony."

I smiled faintly, focusing on his words. "That's a pretty big honor."

"It is," he said, then paused for a beat. "I was hoping you might join me-be my plus one for the event. Having you there would make it even better."

The sincerity in his tone caught me off guard, and I hesitated, unsure how to respond. "Oh, I..."

"Think about it," he interrupted gently, his smile never wavering. "No pressure."

"I appreciate the invite," I said carefully, searching for the right words. "But I don't have plans to travel right now."

"Understood," he said with a small nod, his tone full of understanding. "If you change your mind, though, you know how to reach me."

I smiled, the warmth in his voice putting me at ease even as my mind raced to make sense of everything. "Thank you," I said softly.

He glanced at his watch, then back at me with a hint of reluctance. "It's getting late," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "Let me get you home."

I nodded, rising from my seat as he stood and gestured for the waiter. The evening had been... something. And while his charm had made it easier to ignore the strange moment earlier, it hadn't erased it.

As we made our way toward the elevator, I glanced back at the balcony one last time, the night sky stretching endlessly above us. Whatever had drawn Alex's attention there, it still lingered in the back of my mind like a shadow waiting to be uncovered.

🚗🚗

When I saw Alex's sleek car waiting for me instead of the Maybach, I hesitated for a moment. I had assumed the chauffeur would be taking me back home.

But Alex leaned casually against the hood, his arms crossed, that easy smile of his settling warmly on his face.

"Thought I'd drive you home myself," he said, straightening as I approached. "Unless you prefer the chauffeur?"

There was that smooth confidence again, the kind that made it impossible to say no without feeling a little rude.

"I don't mind," I replied, trying to keep my tone neutral, even though I couldn't help the small smile that tugged at my lips.

He opened the passenger door for me, his hand resting lightly on the edge as I slid in. The soft scent of leather mixed with a faint trace of his cologne-a warm, woodsy scent that filled the quiet cabin.

By the time he settled into the driver's seat, I was acutely aware of how small the space between us felt.

We made small talk during the drive, the streetlights casting fleeting glows across his face. Alex kept the conversation light, asking about my day before dinner and what plans I had for the weekend.

I answered as best I could, but my mind drifted back to his sudden shift in demeanor on the rooftop. The way his expression had darkened, his gaze sharp and searching, lingered at the edges of my thoughts like a faint shadow.

He slid the car into park in front of my house, got out and opened the door for me.

A gesture that felt oddly intimate for a man I barely knew, though we had shared a dinner full of words unspoken, a closeness I didn't fully understand but couldn't deny.

"Thank you," I murmured, still reeling from the quiet magnetism that had held us together through the evening.

He smiled, a small curve of his lips that hinted at more than polite farewells.

"I really enjoyed tonight," he said, his voice quieter now, as if the world around us didn't deserve to hear. "I hope we can do this again soon."

I nodded, a small smile playing on my lips.

"I had a nice time too. Maybe."

"Maybe," he repeated, his brow arching slightly in mock offense, though his grin softened the expression.

And then he reached for my hand. The warmth of his fingers against mine was gentle, but when he lifted my hand and brushed his lips against my knuckles, it sent a small shock through my system.

The gesture was old-fashioned, deliberate, and undeniably effective.

Alex's fingers lingered there, warmth seeping from his touch. My pulse quickened, the simple gesture enough to make my breath hitch. I had almost forgotten how it felt-how it should feel.

His hand tightened around mine, but not in a forceful way. No, it was tender, possessive in the most subtle of ways.

And then, without words, he leaned in, his gaze dropping to my lips as his breath mingled with mine.

For a moment, time stretched, our faces inches apart, the world narrowing down to just the two of us.

I should pull away.

I should say something.

But all I could do was hold my breath and wait for that first spark to ignite between us.

His lips brushed mine, soft at first, testing the waters.

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding, my fingers curling around the fabric of his shirt as I leaned into him.

The kiss deepened slowly, as if neither of us was in a hurry.

His lips were firm, yet gentle, coaxing mine open just enough for him to explore, the touch of his tongue sending a shiver down my spine. The intensity of it took me off guard, my mind racing to catch up with my body's response.

As the kiss grew more urgent, his hand slipped from mine, slowly sliding down my side, his fingers grazing the curve of my waist. The sensation was electric, making my breath catch.

My chest tightened with a longing that had been buried for far too long, a yearning for more, but not for anything I was willing to rush.

Alex's hand moved to my thigh, the touch lingering, his fingers just brushing the sensitive skin under my dress.

I gasped, pulling back slightly, my pulse a frantic thrum in my ears.

"Ruby..." he murmured, his voice husky, and I could hear the faint edge of restraint in it, like he was holding back just as much as I was.

"I don't want to rush this," I said quietly, my own voice trembling with the weight of my words.

His thumb traced over my lower lip, a gesture that was soft, but it burned.

"I don't want to rush it either," he replied, his tone thick with desire.

We stood there for a long moment, caught between wanting and waiting, both of us holding our breath as we slowly pulled away.

I could feel his presence still, like a hot whisper against my skin, and I knew-he knew-that there was something more here, something that could be explored... when the time was right.

Alex gave me one last, lingering look, his eyes dark with unsaid promises.

"I'll see you soon," he said, his voice soft, like a promise that echoed in the space between us.

I nodded, feeling the weight of his gaze on me as I stepped away from the car.

He didn't drive away immediately, waiting until I'd made it safely to the door before he pulled away, the engine's purr fading into the night.

I stood at the door for a long moment, still feeling the heat of his touch, my fingers tracing over my lips where his had been.

My heart was still racing, my mind a whirlwind of emotions I didn't fully understand.

As I stepped through the door, I double-checked the lock with the habitual click, the quiet hum of the house settling around me.

The faint light from the living room TV caught my eye, still glowing softly in the dark. I flicked it off, the silence suddenly a bit too loud, my senses tingling with everything that had happened tonight.

I dragged my feet up the stairs, still feeling the weight of Alex's touch lingering on my skin, like a memory that refused to fade. When I reached the top, I paused in front of Frida's door, debating whether I should check in on her.

But then I heard it.

At first, it was subtle-just a faint murmur.

But as I stood there, trying to make sense of the noise, it became undeniable: a low voice, a grunting sound that definitely didn't belong to Frida alone.

I blinked, my heart rate picking up as I realized what it was. Oh god, was Frida...?

A small, surprised giggle escaped me before I could catch it.

There was no need to investigate further-I knew exactly what was happening behind that door. The thought of her getting nasty-as she so boldly called it-made my cheeks burn, a burst of heat flashing through me. She certainly didn't hold back.

I turned quickly, practically running to my room, as I tried to shake the image from my mind. The last thing I needed was to be reminded of how long it had been since I felt that kind of touch.

I slipped into my bathroom, shutting the door behind me. The sound of water filling the tub was a small comfort as I undressed, sliding under the warm stream. I let the water wash away the remnants of the night-Alex's kisses, his soft caress, the electric charge that still lingered between us.

My body had simmered all evening, a restless energy building in me, and now, alone in the silence of the bathroom, I allowed myself to feel it fully.

I scrubbed away the lingering heat of the evening, but when I stepped out of the shower, wrapped in a towel, I couldn't shake the feeling that my skin was still alive with desire.

I dressed slowly in my nightwear-a simple set of soft, cotton shorts and a tank top-but as I pulled on the shirt, I felt a longing stir in me again.

It wasn't the first time tonight my mind had wandered.

It wasn't just Alex's kiss I was remembering. It was the touch, the closeness, the warmth I hadn't allowed myself to indulge in for so long.

I lay back on my bed, pulling the covers up around me, but sleep felt a long way off. The desire... it wasn't just physical. It was a need for connection, something more than a casual kiss or a fleeting touch.

I closed my eyes, letting the thoughts drift like a slow burn, my chest tightening in anticipation.

Was it really that bad to want more? To long for a moment of vulnerability, of closeness that wasn't just about protecting my peace, but about letting go?

I pressed my lips together, trying to quiet the longing as I shifted in bed, turning toward the window. My thoughts wandered to Alex once again.

It was hard to ignore the way he made me feel. How easy it had been to fall into that space with him tonight-his smile, his touch, the way his lips lingered on my hand as if he wanted to say so much more.

But then I remembered the strange moment back at the restaurant-his expression shifting, that hard edge in his gaze. Was he hiding something, or was it just the weight of the world on his shoulders? And did it matter?

I exhaled softly, curling into my pillow, the ache of wanting, of needing, still heavy in my chest.

As much as I told myself I had everything under control, the truth was, it had been a while.

A long while.

And tonight, for the first time in so long, I felt alive in a way I wasn't prepared for.

With a final, lingering sigh, I closed my eyes, letting my thoughts wander... knowing full well that tonight, sleep wouldn't come easily.