Chapter 4: Only One Night

As I made my way back towards the lift, I noticed that the hallway was now quieter and that the air was getting colder. I kept thinking about Andrew's eyes, and my mind was racing with activity. I had never seen eyes like those before—sharply intense, almost like he was searching for something. Something in me.

I couldn't think about it, though. I had work to do. That was all I had to think about. I was unable to allow my feelings to interfere. Not with such a man. Not with someone who would forget me in the morning, someone who was only passing through.

I realised my foolishness as I stood by the lift, waiting for it to arrive. The way he looked at me and made me feel alive—almost as if I mattered—was something I would never forget.

I was startled out of my reverie by the lift's chime. The moment's weight remained in the pit of my stomach even after I entered and pressed the ground floor button.

However, I was unsure of how long I could ignore it.

---

Hours went by, but my thoughts remained active. There was always work to be done. Transitioning from one task to another. Nevertheless, I was unable to scratch the itching sensation in my chest. I had fulfilled my obligations, remained professional, and assisted a needy guest. But there was something about him that persisted.

I couldn't get the pull of his presence off my mind. Perhaps there was something almost magnetic about him, as evidenced by the way his body touched mine when I assisted him to his room and the gentleness of his tone when he thanked me.

By the end of my shift, I was mentally and physically exhausted. It felt like I would arrive at my flat much later tonight, like a distant dream. I stepped outside into the cool Los Angeles air, where the city was bustling as usual after dark. But all I could think about as I strolled through the dark streets was Andrew.

I was forced to consider it even though I didn't want to. Now I didn't know where he was. Was he in his room by himself? What was he doing? Did he even consider me for a moment?

I turned around and started back towards the hotel before I could talk myself out of it. It was absurd. Absurd. However, my feet moved by themselves.

---

The cool air followed me inside the hotel as I yanked open the heavy glass doors. Other than a few cleaning personnel and the night receptionist, who hardly even looked up from his phone, the lobby was deserted. I told myself that I just needed a minute to relax and clear my head before heading to the back, where the employee lounge was located.

But then I heard it—a deep, well-known voice that broke through the hotel's silence.

"Amelia?"

I froze, my heart pounding in my throat. I didn't look back. My breathing became abruptly shallow as my heart pounded in my chest. The sound of that voice was unmistakable.

Andrew was the one.

I turned after taking a reassuring breath. He appeared to have just stepped out of a magazine as he stood in the hallway, just past the lounge door. His dark, fitted suit stood out against the rest of the hotel's laid-back atmosphere. He had a little ruffled hair and a deep, intense gaze that made my stomach turn.

"Andrew?" Startled to see him here, outside his room, I whispered.

"You still here?" He stepped forward, his voice gruff but with a quality that I didn't recognise. "I hoped you would be. I. I didn't have time to properly thank you earlier.

I swallowed and made an effort to control my heartbeat. "I don't need your gratitude. It was a requirement of my work.

His lips pulled upward into a ghostly smile, and his eyes wrinkled at the corners. It wasn't just a part of your job, in my opinion. Tonight, you were different. Unlike everyone else, you didn't leave me alone. Why?

I started to reply, but my mouth remained closed. It was not meant to count. It only lasted one night. Even so, his stare felt oppressive as he stood so close to me now. Before I could do anything, my body acted.

I moved in his direction.

I muttered, "Maybe I just. Wanted to help," Even hearing my voice made me feel strange.

He didn't respond. Rather, he drew nearer, consuming the distance between us. He said, "I think you wanted more," in a low, demanding voice.

He abruptly leaned over and ran his hand over my cheek in the following second; the gentleness of the contact chilled me. His thumb gently pressed against my skin as his fingers continued to trace my jawline.

Amelia. He seemed to be looking for something inside of me based on the whisper of his breath against my face and the storm-churning blackness of his eyes. "You don't know what you're doing to me right now."

I was unable to talk. I was immobile. My entire world seemed to have shrunk to that one instant, that touch.

I desired him. More than I've ever desired in my life.

Andrew closed the distance between us in a single motion, his lips slamming into mine. In a way, the kiss was desperate despite being firm and demanding. Before I knew it, I was kissing him back, putting my hands in his hair, drawing him in, and needing him more than I had ever needed another person in my life.

He growled softly and yanked me against him so violently that my lungs were robbed of their breath as his hands moved down my back. His body was solid, firm, and alive, as though, like me, he had been anticipating this moment.

Together, we made our way to the wall. He raised me enough to press me against the cool, smooth surface with his hands on my hips. As his mouth worked down my neck, I breathed in short gasps, my heart pounding. Heat sparks ran through my veins as his lips pressed softly against my skin.

When his lips found that pulse point, I gasped and tugged at his hair. "Andrew." My body ached from the necessity, and I could hardly breathe.

He stepped back far enough to meet my gaze. His breathing was laboured; his face was inches from mine. "Tell me that you desire this. You want me, tell me.

I didn't think twice. Breathing out, "I want you," "I want you more than I've ever wanted anything."

The world vanished as his lips struck mine once more. Only he was there. Between us, nothing but the fire.

This was not intended to occur. This was not how it was intended to feel.

However, it did.

And I stopped caring at that very moment.