Giana — POV
We walked barefoot down the quiet street, our shoes hanging loosely from his hand like it was the most natural thing in the world. I still didn't know why he had taken his shoes off too, but every time a car passed, he shifted smoothly, placing himself on the outer side of the road and guiding me to the safer part without even thinking about it.
No one had ever done that for me before.
And somehow that realization hurt more than it should have.
And somehow that realization hurt more than it should have.
In the few hours I had known this stranger, he had shown me more care than my ex ever did in four years. Instead of sadness, an unexpected sense of relief settled quietly inside me.
Maybe the relationship ending wasn't the worst thing that had happened to me.
I glanced at him, really looked at him for the first time since we left the hall, and suddenly a thought struck me.
"I don't even know your name."
One brow lifted. "You're only realizing that now? We're literally married," he teased.
I laughed, actually laughed. The sound coming out freer than it had all night.
"Alex," he said. "Alex Hale."
I didn't know why hearing it did something strange to my chest, but it did. His name sounded steady… solid… exactly like him.
"Giana Rivera," I replied, smiling a little shyly.
And just like that, we weren't strangers anymore.
He bought us ice cream, and somehow the night kept unfolding, small streets, quiet corners, laughter that came easier each minute. We talked about nothing important and yet it felt like everything mattered. By the time we reached the beach, the city noise had faded behind us completely.
We ran across the sand like children, the cold water touching our feet, our shoes still forgotten in his hand. Later we lay back on the sand, staring up at the dark sky, talking about the most random, silly things.
But what stayed with me wasn't what we talked about.
It was the way he listened.
Really listened.
If this wasn't real, then I was in serious trouble because my heart was already reacting in ways I didn't understand.
A loud bell echoed from somewhere in the distance.
Midnight.
"Already?" I murmured. "It feels like only a few minutes."
He laughed softly, turning his head toward me. "Do you want to go home?"
I hesitated… then slowly shook my head. "No."
He smiled.
We walked back to my hotel, barefoot and sandy, laughing at how ridiculous we looked juggling shoes. My cheeks ached from smiling, but I didn't want the night to end.
"Do you want to come inside for a bit?" I asked, trying to sound casual.
He raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Oh? And what exactly do you plan to do to me when we get there?"
I froze, cheeks heating instantly. "I… I mean… it's late, … and I just…" I stumbled over my words.
"I know, I know," he said, chuckling, "I'm just joking."
Still, my heart raced as we walked, him following behind while I led the way, shyly glancing over my shoulder as if I owed anyone an explanation.
When I opened the hotel room door, my stomach dropped. The place was a mess. Clothes scattered everywhere, shoes in disarray, makeup and papers spread across the floor. I groaned. "Oh no…"
He laughed softly from behind me. "Looks like a war zone in here."
I hurriedly started picking things up, embarrassed, trying to shove my scattered underwear out of sight. "Don't… don't even think about helping with that!" I said, my voice tight with blush.
"Okay, okay… take your time," he teased, leaning against the wall, clearly amused by my flustered state.
Once everything was under control or at least hidden enough, I sank into the lounge chair by the window, letting out a shaky laugh. "Well… today was… adventurous," he said, crouching slightly so we were almost eye to eye, a teasing smirk on his lips. His gaze, however, stayed steady on me.
"Adventurous?" I echoed, laughing. "I Barely survived, but yes… I guess it was worth it."
He walked over, crouched slightly so we were almost eye to eye. "Worth it?" His voice was soft, teasing, yet there was something steady behind it. "Even if your heart was racing the whole time?"
I felt my face warm. How did he know? "Maybe," I admitted, and I couldn't stop the grin from spreading.
He leaned closer, careful, and brushed a strand of hair from my face. The touch was light, deliberate, intimate. My breath hitched. "You know…" he said quietly, "I never knew that there was side of me."
I tilted my head, curious. "Which side?"
"The one that likes to watch someone laugh, completely… unguarded." He hesitated, searching my eyes. "And maybe doesn't want to let them go just yet."
My heart thudded in a way I hadn't felt in years. I laughed softly, trying to hide it, but he caught it. "You're easy to enchant," he said, voice low. "Be careful, I might just get used to it."
I leaned back slightly, feeling a thrill in the simplicity of it all. For the first time in a long time, I didn't have to pretend. He was here, I was here, and nothing else mattered.
"You want wine?" I asked. We reached for the bottle at the same time; our hands brushed lightly, almost accidental. My chest tightened. His fingers lingered just a heartbeat longer, a slow smile tugging at his lips.
"This man is dangerous to my heart", I thought.
He leaned closer, careful, but close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from him. I grabbed two glasses, poured, and handed him one, then pushed him slightly, trying to catch my breath. "Stop flirting with me," I teased, sliding to the floor.
"Me?" His voice was teasing as he joined me.
"Cheers," I said, and our glasses clinked softly.
We sat awkwardly, legs stretched out, sharing sips. The room shrank around us; laughter and teasing softened into something quiet, intimate.
"Who was that man you were hiding from?" His voice was gentle, steady.
I hesitated, then told him everything. Dean, the wedding, the heartbreak, the humiliation. I watched his expression tighten, anger mixed with something protective.
He reached out, brushing hair from my face, thumb tracing my cheek. "You deserve better," he murmured. My chest tightened.
I parted my lips slightly; he leaned closer, faces inches apart. My heart screamed yes but he pulled back, just enough.
"It's 4 a.m.," he said quietly. "You should rest."
I nodded. Disappointed. Relieved. He stood, taking my hand. "If you want...come by my place later today? I'll text you the address."
We lingered, staring at each other. No words were needed. The pull between us was magnetic.
Finally, he left. I sank back onto the floor, heart racing. Almost instantly, my phone buzzed:
"45 Seaview Lane. I had a great time. See you tomorrow. –Alex"
I smiled, thinking about the night. Reckless, fun, and terrifying. And I knew one thing. This was different.
Later that evening, I stood in front of the mirror, dressed, made-up, smiling at myself. My heart raced in a way I hadn't expected all night. I laughed softly, almost bouncing on my sandals as I stepped toward the hotel exit.
A flashy car honked, and the tinted window rolled down slowly. My breath caught. A sharp scent of perfume drifted out. A woman sat inside, impossibly poised, lips painted strikingly red. Her smile was slow, deliberate, and unsettlingly perfect. My chest tightened, I couldn't look away.
Then her voice cut through the evening air, smooth, dangerous, and unmistakable:
"Giana Rivera?"