Chapter 2: The Wrong Door
Kade Val.
The name thundered in Aria's mind, even though her lips refused to say it out loud.
He blinked slowly, still waking up, his dark lashes fluttering open to reveal hazel eyes—sharp, calculating, and now completely locked on her.
Aria sat frozen on the bed, the sheet pulled tightly against her chest as if it could protect her from the realization settling over her like frostbite.
"What the hell?" she whispered, mostly to herself.
Kade's brows furrowed as he sat up. The sheet slipped down his torso, revealing a body she hadn't seen in two years—muscular, lean, and unfortunately unforgettable.
Aria looked away, swallowing the panic rising in her throat.
Kade blinked, groggy but alert. "Aria?"
She flinched.
His voice. That voice. She hadn't heard it since the day he walked out of her life. And now here she was—in his hotel bed.
Her stomach turned.
"I…" she started, but the words failed her.
Kade rubbed a hand down his face and leaned against the headboard, his eyes narrowing like he was trying to force everything to make sense. "What are you doing here?"
"I should ask you that," she snapped, voice sharper than she intended. "This was supposed to be my room."
His gaze flicked to the door, then back to her. "This is 803."
She blinked. "Wait… what?"
"I booked 803," he said slowly. "I came in last night around ten."
Her breath caught. "Oh my god."
She glanced around the room again—sleek navy curtains, a massive city-view window, a suitcase near the closet.
Not hers.
Not her suite.
She hadn't even made it to her real room. She was supposed to be in 808.
"I came to the wrong door," she whispered.
Kade raised an eyebrow. "You think?"
Her face burned.
Humiliation crashed into her all at once, wave after wave.
Her head throbbed harder now—not just from the hangover, but from the shock, the confusion, the sheer horror of what she now understood.
They had slept together.
Last night—somehow, incredibly, impossibly—she had ended up in her ex's bed.
"I didn't know this was your room," she said quickly, defensively.
"I didn't know it was you," Kade shot back, matching her energy.
A tense silence fell between them.
Aria tugged the sheet around her tighter and slid off the bed, legs trembling slightly as she stumbled toward her heels.
"I was drunk," she said, almost to herself.
"Yeah, I figured," Kade replied, his voice low, unreadable.
She turned to face him, standing there barefoot, hair a mess, heart pounding. "Did you drug me?"
His expression turned to stone. "Excuse me?"
Her voice cracked. "I said—"
"I heard what you said," he cut in coldly. "No, I didn't drug you. That's not who I am."
She stared at him for a moment, uncertain whether to believe him. But then she noticed something strange.
He didn't look hungover.
He looked… off.
Not tired. Not drunk.
Off.
"Kade," she said quietly, stepping closer. "Were you drunk?"
He didn't answer immediately.
His jaw tightened.
"No," he finally said. "I wasn't drunk."
"Then what were you?" she asked, heartbeat speeding up again.
A pause.
He looked at her, and something flickered in his eyes. Guilt? Confusion? Maybe both.
"I don't remember much," he admitted. "Just… lying down. My head spinning. Then waking up to you screaming in my bed."
Her stomach dropped. "Wait—were you drugged?"
He looked away.
"Kade."
He didn't answer.
"Kade."
"I don't know," he snapped, frustration bleeding into his voice. "I had a drink in the bar downstairs. Alone. Just one. Then I came up. But after that, everything was fuzzy. I felt… strange. Not drunk. Not tired. Just wrong."
The pieces clicked slowly in Aria's mind, like jagged puzzle edges grinding into place.
Someone had drugged him.
And she—accidentally—walked into that exact room.
"Oh my god," she whispered again, this time with a different kind of panic. "We didn't…"
She couldn't even finish the sentence.
He looked at her, jaw tense. "I don't know."
She backed up toward the chair, hands gripping the back of it. "This didn't happen. It can't have happened."
Kade stood now too, grabbing the sheet around his waist. "Trust me, I don't want it to have happened either."
The words stung, more than they should've.
"Good," she said sharply, forcing her voice not to shake. "Because I'd rather chew glass than regret this any more than I already do."
Kade's eyes flashed, but he didn't argue.
She slipped into her dress as quickly as she could and grabbed her clutch. Her hands were trembling so badly she dropped it twice before she finally got the door open.
"Aria—"
She stopped in the doorway but didn't turn.
"I didn't plan this," he said, voice quieter now. "If I'd known it was you…"
She didn't let him finish.
Without another word, she stepped into the hallway and slammed the door behind her.
She stood there for a moment, eyes burning, heart racing.
Then she walked down the hall—barefoot, broken, and boiling with questions she didn't want answers to.
All she wanted was to forget.
But something told her this wasn't over.
Not even close.