Chapter 2

Alina's POV

I stumbled through the pulsing lights of the club, my vision hazy from the tequila shots that I had lost count of hours ago. The beat of the music pounded through my veins, synchronizing with my erratic heartbeat. I felt invincible, unbound by the constraints of reality, floating on a cloud of inebriated euphoria.

I don’t remember how I ended up in that secluded corner of the club, but there he was—dark eyes piercing through the dim light, an enigmatic smile that seemed to promise an escape from everything mundane. We didn’t exchange names, just a glance that lingered a second too long. His hand found mine, a mutual understanding that words were unnecessary.

We moved through the labyrinth of sweaty bodies and neon lights, reaching the upstairs private rooms. The room we entered was a world of its own—lit, with a velvet couch that beckoned us closer. The door clicked shut behind us, a signal that we were now cut off from the rest of the world.

He pressed me against the wall, his lips finding mine with a hunger that matched my own. The kiss was electrifying, a rush of heat spreading through my body. My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, desperate to erase the boundaries between us. His hands roamed over my body, each touch sending shivers down my spine. I felt like I was on fire, each kiss and caress fanning the flames higher.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured against my neck, his breath hot on my skin.

I responded with a soft moan, words feeling inadequate to express the intensity of the moment. Our clothes seemed to disappear with a sense of urgency, each piece discarded on the floor. He lifted me, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, his strength a comforting anchor in the swirling chaos of our desire.

We tumbled onto the couch, a tangle of limbs and breathless gasps. His touch was everywhere, exploring, teasing, and I matched him with equal fervor. The world outside ceased to exist; there was only the two of us, lost in this heady intoxication. His lips traced a path down my neck, his hands exploring the curves of my body as if mapping them for the first time.

“Do you want this?” he whispered, his voice hoarse with need.

“Yes,” I breathed, my voice trembling with anticipation.

He entered me then, a sensation so intense that it stole my breath away. We moved together in perfect rhythm, a dance of passion and desperation. Each thrust brought us closer to the edge, our moans mingling with the muffled beats of the club’s music. The air was thick with smelling sweat and desire, every touch and sound amplified by our heightened senses.

“Look at me,” he said, his voice commanding yet gentle.

Our eyes locked, and for a moment, I felt an unspoken connection, a recognition that transcended the anonymity of our encounter. But the alcohol blurred the edges of my thoughts, and I quickly lost myself again in the overwhelming sensations.

The crescendo built rapidly, a tidal wave of pleasure crashing over us. I cried out his name—or at least the name my intoxicated brain conjured up in the heat of the moment—as my body convulsed in ecstasy. He followed soon after, his grip tightening around me as he shuddered with release.

For a moment, we lay there, our breaths heavy and mingling in the confined space. The afterglow was a warm cocoon, a fleeting respite from the reality that would inevitably crash down upon us.

He brushed a strand of hair from my face, his touch surprisingly tender. “That was...” he trailed off, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

“Yeah,” I agreed, unable to find the words to encapsulate the experience. I felt a pang of regret as I realized I still didn’t know his name, nor did he know mine. We were strangers united by a night of drunken passion, destined to return to our separate lives without ever truly knowing each other.

The morning light filtered through the thin curtains, casting a soft glow over the unfamiliar room. I blinked, my eyes adjusting to the brightness. As my senses gradually returned, I became aware of the warmth beside me. I turned my head slowly and froze.

There, lying next to me, was a young man with tousled hair and a peaceful expression. Panic surged through me as I took in his familiar features. This wasn’t just any guy. It was Ryan, the campus star, the guy every girl swooned over. Memories of last night came flooding back—fragments of heated kisses, whispered words, and intoxicating desire. My heart raced as the reality of the situation hit me.

Oh, my God. Ryan. I slept with Ryan.

I sat up abruptly, clutching the blanket to my chest. My movement stirred him, and he shifted slightly but didn’t wake up. I couldn’t let him see me here. I couldn’t let anyone know. The thought of the gossip, the judgmental stares, the cruel whispers—it was too much to bear. I had to get out of here before he woke up.

I slid out of the bed as quietly as possible, gathering my clothes that were scattered across the floor. My dress from last night was crumpled, but I slipped it on hastily, my hands trembling. My shoes were under the bed, and I had to crouch down to retrieve them, my breath coming in shallow gasps.

As I straightened up, I dared a glance at Ryan. He was still asleep, oblivious to the turmoil I was in. I tiptoed to the door, my heart pounding with each step. The doorknob felt cold in my hand, and for a moment, I hesitated. Part of me wanted to stay, to face whatever this meant, but fear won out.

I opened the door just enough to slip through and closed it behind me with a soft click. The hallway was empty, and I hurried down the stairs, my mind racing. How had I let this happen? Last night was supposed to be just another wild night out, an escape from the stress of exams and assignments. Now, it had turned into something much more complicated.

I stepped outside into the cool morning air, the sunlight harsh against my hangover. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. The club, now silent and almost deserted, seemed like a different place altogether. I pulled out my phone to call a cab, praying that I wouldn’t run into anyone I knew.

“Alina,” I muttered to myself as I waited, “what have you done?”

The cab arrived quickly, and I climbed in, giving the driver my address. As we drove away, I couldn’t help but glance back at the building. Part of me expected Ryan to come running out, calling my name, demanding an explanation. But the street remained empty, and I sank back into the seat, relief and anxiety mingling in my chest.

When I finally reached my apartment, I rushed inside, locking the door behind me. I leaned against it, my eyes closed, willing myself to calm down. I had to think. I had to figure out what to do next. My phone buzzed in my hand, and I glanced down to see a message from my best friend, Clara.

“Where did you disappear to last night? We were worried!”

I sighed, typing out a quick reply. “Got home safe. Talk later.”

I tossed my phone onto the couch and headed for the bathroom. A hot shower might help clear my head. As the water cascaded over me, I tried to piece together the events of last night. How had I not recognized Ryan? Maybe it was the dim lighting, the alcohol, the sheer improbability of it all.

I scrubbed my skin, trying to wash away the remnants of guilt and confusion. By the time I stepped out, I felt a little more composed. I wrapped myself in a towel and glimpsed myself in the mirror. My reflection stared back, eyes wide with lingering shock.

This couldn’t happen again. No one could know. I had to act like everything was normal, like nothing had changed. But deep down, I knew it wasn’t that simple. I’d have to face Ryan at some point. The campus was too small to avoid him forever.

I dressed quickly, opting for comfortable clothes. My stomach churned at the thought of running into Ryan, but I pushed the fear aside. I couldn’t afford to fall apart now. I had to be strong, to pretend that last night was just a blip, a mistake that would never be repeated.

With a deep breath, I stepped out of my apartment, ready to face the day. But as I walked to my first class, I couldn’t shake the feeling that my life had just taken a turn from which there was no easy return.