Amara's POV
"Hey, Amara."
I stopped mid stride, my tablet pressing lightly against my hip as Adrian stepped out from the hallway's soft light. He was smiling, really smiling, the kind of smile that feels like it parts the air around you and makes everything else fade.
"Just the person I was hoping to find," he said, eyes glinting. "Are you free now? Can I take you on a proper date?"
For a heartbeat, my breath hitched. My lips curved before I could stop them, wide and unguarded. No more excuses. No more lies.
"Of course," I said, the words slipping out like a secret promise. "I'll just go change."
His face lit up with genuine relief. "I was afraid you'd turn me down," he admitted, voice dipping low. "You have no idea how much I've wanted to ask you that."
"I'll be waiting in the living room," he added softly.
I nodded once, pulse fluttering, and turned away, the click of my heels echoing like a countdown.
As I walked, my thoughts tangled. Adrian was the kind of man you did not have to tiptoe around, the kind who made laughter feel easy and risk feel small. With him, I did not have to measure every word, every gesture, every breath. Nothing like Trey, where each move felt like a calculation, a test I was bound to fail.
And yet.
Even as excitement stirred in me, another part of me bristled, restless. Trey was the only one who had ever made my pulse race like this, the only one who could tilt my whole balance with a glance. With Adrian, I felt safe. With Trey, I felt like I was running a marathon barefoot in the rain, breathless, wild, alive in a way that scared me.
Inside my room, I leaned against the door, staring at my reflection. Adrian was waiting. And for once, maybe, I could let myself be someone else, someone free.
I chose a dress simple but flattering, a whisper of color against my skin, hair swept into a loose knot, just enough lipstick to feel like I belonged on a date. For once, I wanted to look like a woman who could be chosen, not hidden.
I drew a steadying breath, smoothed my skirt, and stepped back into the hall.
The grand staircase loomed ahead, its marble rail cool beneath my fingers as I descended. The low hum of voices drifted up from the foyer, laughter, Adrian's smooth baritone, and then another sound that froze me mid step.
Tessa's laugh.
I blinked, leaning over the banister to check.
There they were in the entryway. Adrian in a crisp navy shirt, looking every inch the man from a glossy travel magazine. Tessa in a playful silk dress, phone already out for pictures. And between them, tall and silent in a tailored jacket, Trey.
The sight jolted me, an unexpected current snapping through my chest like an electric wire.
Adrian looked up first, and his smile softened when he saw me. "There she is," he said, eyes glinting like a secret. "Perfect timing."
Tessa spun, practically bouncing. "We're making this a group thing!" she declared. "Adrian invited us along. I couldn't resist."
For a second the stairwell tilted under my feet. A group thing. My fingers tightened around the clutch, but I forced a small, measured smile as my heels clicked against the last few steps.
A while ago, I told myself that spending time with Adrian might make me feel lighter, like I could breathe again after days of tension. Around him, it was easy to pretend I was calm, composed, even relaxed. But the second I realized Trey would be there too, every bit of ease unraveled. My chest felt restless, my nerves suddenly sharp edged. How was I supposed to steady myself when the man who could undo me with a glance was now part of this so called fun?
"A group thing?" I echoed, keeping my voice cool though my heart had lurched.
"Yes," Adrian said easily, grin undimmed. "Dinner, drinks, a little fun. The more the merrier."
Out of the corner of my eye, Trey's gaze found mine for a flicker, cool, unreadable, but steady enough to make my pulse skip. He stood with one hand in his pocket, the other holding his car keys, posture relaxed but eyes dark with something harder to name.
The air between us trembled. I could feel it across the marble like heat before a storm.
My fingers tightened further on my clutch. This was not a date anymore.
Adrian was the first to move, crossing the marble floor to offer his arm like it was the most natural thing in the world. "Ready?" he asked, and his eyes glinted with something both playful and deliberate.
"Yes," I said lightly, sliding my hand through the crook of his elbow, the cool fabric of his shirt brushing my skin.
Tessa squealed softly. "This is going to be so fun. We haven't done a proper night out in ages." She spun toward Trey. "Right?"
Trey's jaw shifted once, a subtle movement you would miss if you were not looking. "Right," he said, voice low. His gaze swept from Adrian's hand on mine to my face, and then away.
Outside, the night air wrapped around us, warm and heavy with the scent of rain damp stone and neon from the city lights. Trey's black SUV idled at the foot of the steps, sleek and commanding, its engine humming low. He was already at the wheel, jacket open, one arm resting on the window frame as if daring anyone to question why he was behind it.
Tessa darted past us and slid into the passenger seat, tossing her bag into the footwell like she had done it a thousand times. Adrian blinked, caught off guard. "Oh? I thought"
"Nope," Tessa cut in, buckling herself in with a grin. "Group night out. No splitting cars."
Trey did not protest. He simply started the engine, the headlights slicing across the courtyard. "Let's go," he said evenly.
Adrian opened the rear door and gestured for me to go ahead. I slipped into the back seat, the leather cool against my skin. Adrian followed, shoulders brushing mine as he settled in beside me.
The SUV rolled down the long driveway, city lights glimmering like coins beyond the tinted windows. Inside, the air was too quiet, too charged. Adrian's citrus and spice cologne mixed with Trey's darker cedar and leather, the combination dizzying.
Adrian leaned closer, voice pitched low for me alone. "You look incredible tonight. I was worried you'd change your mind."
I smiled faintly, eyes fixed on the passing streetlights. "Why would I change my mind when I know you're fun to be with?"
From the driver's seat, Trey's knuckles flexed around the wheel. The pale bars of streetlight carved across his cheekbones, throwing his eyes into shadow. He said nothing, but his jaw worked once, a visible effort to stay contained.
Tessa, oblivious in the passenger seat, was scrolling through her phone. "We're going to the new rooftop place," she announced. "Best cocktails in the city. And the view is insane."
Adrian tilted his head toward me. "Ever been?"
"No."
"Good," he said softly. "Firsts are always better shared."
Something about the way he said it sent a quick jolt up my spine. I caught Trey's eyes briefly in the rearview mirror. Not anger exactly, but a tightening, like he was swallowing glass.
The rest of the drive unfolded like a quiet pressure chamber. Tessa's cheerful chatter spilled over the music. Adrian's thigh brushed mine each time the car curved. Trey stayed silent, focused on the road, hands locked on the wheel. My pulse became a steady drumbeat, and with every turn I felt the air in the SUV grow heavier.
By the time we reached the restaurant, the rooftop lights spilled down like molten gold. Trey braked smoothly and slipped the car into park. Adrian stepped out first and offered his hand to me. I took it, feeling the warm pressure of his palm, and then I felt Trey's gaze land on our joined hands like a weight from across the hood of the car.
Inside, the rooftop was a dream of glass and greenery. Fairy lights spiraled around pillars, and the city skyline shimmered below. A quartet played soft jazz near the bar, the music folding around us like velvet.
The hostess led us to a corner table half screened by trailing plants, intimate but still open to the skyline. Adrian guided me to the inner seat. Trey took the spot opposite me again, silent but looming like a dark anchor, with Tessa beside him, still chatting brightly.
Menus arrived, embossed leather and gilt edges. Adrian ordered a bottle of wine for the table and leaned in, his knee brushing mine under the table. "Tell me what you like," he murmured.
I opened my mouth to answer, but I caught Trey's eyes over the rim of my menu, steady, dark, unblinking. The look was not a glare, but something heavier, more unreadable.
Adrian, oblivious, smiled. "We'll try everything."
Tessa kicked off her heels and laughed. "This is the best night ever."
The waiter poured the wine, rich and dark as ink. Adrian lifted his glass and, emboldened by the easy flow of the evening, turned his smile on Trey. Not soft, but deliberate, the kind that carried its own voltage.
"I'm glad she's not your bride, Trey," he said loudly enough for everyone at the table to hear, his tone light but his eyes holding mine. "Because I'm planning to steal her away."
For a split second the table went silent, the clink of cutlery halting midair. The quartet's music drifted from the bar like static.
Tessa's eyes went wide. "Oh my God, Adrian," she began, but the words died on her lips.
Across from me, Trey's hand stilled on the stem of his glass. He did not speak. He did not even blink. But the muscles in his jaw flexed once, twice, a visible pulse of restraint. The light from the skyline carved hard angles into his face, making his eyes look almost black.
I braced myself for a cutting remark, some low blow about how I did not belong, or how Adrian's attention was a joke. But it never came. Instead, Trey's gaze lingered on me, steady and different. For the first time since our paths crossed again, his eyes held no dismissal, no sharpness. Something else flickered there, a question, a warning, a heat I could not name.
A strange relief rushed through me, flooding my chest. No snark. No cruelty. Just that unreadable look. It unsettled me more than his words ever had.
Adrian leaned back as though he had merely commented on the weather, his grin still in place, but the air around the table had shifted. Heavier. Charged. Like ozone before a storm.
I forced a laugh that did not quite sound like me, reaching for my wine to hide the tremor in my hands. "You're ridiculous," I said lightly, but my pulse was a drum in my ears.
Tessa picked up her phone, pretending to scroll, but her gaze flicked between the two men like she was watching a tennis match.
Trey finally raised his glass, fingers tightening around the stem until his knuckles whitened. When he spoke, his voice was even, too even, but it cut through the rooftop noise like a blade. "Drink up," he said quietly. "We've got a long night ahead."
The quartet's music swelled again, but the table felt like the eye of a storm.