Kai couldn't think, he couldn't sleep and could barely breathe. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her lips parted, fingers tangled in his tie, body pressed against his like she belonged there. Like she used to belong there and God, the way she'd tasted. Like summer storms and silk sheets and something he knew but couldn't name.
You taste like a memory.
That's what he'd said and she hadn't even flinched. She'd just walked out cool, untouched, cruelly calm like the kiss hadn't unraveled him from the inside out. Now it was Monday, and she sat four doors down from his office in her glass cube, perfectly poised, perfectly distant, acting as if that kiss, their kiss never happened and it was driving him insane.
He watched her from his office.
She wore pale blue today, soft and professional, her hair swept back. She typed with elegant fingers. She answered calls. She didn't look up once.
Not at him. Not toward his floor. Nothing like he didn't exist, like his mouth hadn't been on her throat three nights ago.
He clenched his jaw.
This was calculated.
She was doing this.
Kai had always been the one in control in business, in life, in sex.
But now?
He was the one falling and she was watching.
He couldn't stop thinking about her. The taste of her tongue. The way she moaned into his mouth before pulling away like he was the one begging. The slit in her dress. The curve of her thigh. The way her body moved like she'd danced with him a hundred times before but more than that, it was what she'd said.
"This is what it feels like to forget someone you promised to love forever."
He hadn't told anyone. Not even Brielle. But those words had haunted him. He had forgotten something. Something big. Something important and she was the missing piece.
He buzzed his assistant. "Send Aria St. James to my office."
A pause.
"I believe she's in a meeting."
"With who?"
"Mr. DeMarco, from the partnerships team."
He felt a pulse of something primal stab through his chest.
That man was a flirt. Smug. Rich. Worse he was young.
Kai stood.
"I'll go to her."
Aria didn't so much as blink when he entered the meeting room unannounced. She sat across from DeMarco, legs crossed, expression bored. Elegant. Unreadable.
Kai barely acknowledged DeMarco.
"We need to talk," he said, eyes locked on hers.
She smiled faintly. "Now?"
"Yes."
She turned to DeMarco. "Excuse me a moment." When they were alone in the hall, she folded her arms. "This better be about work." He stared at her. "You're really going to pretend nothing happened?"
She tilted her head. "Something happened?"
He nearly growled. "Don't do that."
"Do what?"
"This—this mind game."
She took a step closer. "Kai. You kissed me. I walked away."
His breath caught. "Because you wanted me to chase you."
She leaned in, voice low. "If I wanted you, I'd let you know. I'm not Brielle. I don't need a diamond and a headline."
He swallowed hard.
"Then what do you want?"
Aria's eyes glittered.
"For you to remember what you did to me." But she didn't say it. She just stepped back and said calmly, "You called me for something?"
He stared at her for a long beat.
Then:
"You're dismissed."
She didn't flinch. Just smiled, spun on her heel, and walked away leaving him standing in a hallway full of questions.
By Tuesday, he was wrecked. She hadn't texted. Hadn't emailed. Hadn't come to his floor all day and when she passed him in the hall head held high, perfume trailing behind her like sin,she gave him a smile so indifferent it cut deeper than cruelty.
He couldn't take it. Wednesday night, he dreamed of her again but this time, it wasn't just her lips or her laugh. It was her voice. Whispering his name like a secret. Like a prayer. Like she'd waited her whole life just to say it again and then she was gone just like before.
He woke with her name on his lips again.
Not Aria. "Ariella…"
He found her on the rooftop terrace Thursday afternoon, alone, looking out over the skyline with a coffee cup cradled in her hands. She didn't hear him approach.
"You're avoiding me," he said softly.
She didn't turn. "I'm working."
"You're punishing me for something I don't remember."
Her jaw tensed. "Not remembering doesn't erase the damage."
"So I did something."
She turned now, slowly, and her eyes pinned him in place.
"You left me."
The words were quiet. Sharp. Like broken glass wrapped in velvet.
"You promised me forever," she whispered, "and then you acted like I never existed."
His mouth opened but nothing came out.
She stepped closer and for a second, just a second her expression cracked. Pain. Love. Fury. Then it vanished.
"I don't want anything from you, Kai," she said, backing away. "Just do your job. Let me do mine."And then she was gone again and all Kai could do was stand there, chest hollow, heart racing with something that looked a lot like guilt and maybe even grief.