“This is a terrible idea.”
Angela’s breath came out in short, nervous bursts as she followed Eric up the fire escape of an upscale building downtown.
Her heels clanked against the metal steps, her dress brushing against her legs with every hurried movement.
Eric, on the other hand, moved like he belonged there—like scaling rooftops in the middle of the night was just another Tuesday for him. He turned to glance down at her, amusement dancing in his dark eyes.
“Then why are you still following me?”
“Because I’m insane,” she muttered, gripping the railing as she climbed higher.
Eric laughed, the sound low and rich, and it did something infuriating to her stomach.
When they reached the top, he pushed open the rooftop door and stepped aside, motioning for her to go first. Angela hesitated, glancing at him with suspicion before stepping out onto the rooftop.
“Wow.”
The city stretched out before her, glittering under the night sky. It was breathtaking—towering skyscrapers, streets pulsing with life, the distant hum of traffic.
The air smelled crisp, a mix of cold wind and something else—something thrilling.
Eric stepped beside her, hands in his pockets. “Worth the climb?”
She exhaled. “Maybe.”
“Only maybe?”
Angela turned to face him, arching a brow. “I could’ve died climbing up here.”
He smirked. “I wouldn’t have let you fall.”
Something about the way he said it—like it was a promise—made her shiver.
She folded her arms. “You do this often?”
“Break into rooftops? Not really. But for you, I’ll make an exception.”
Angela rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t fight the smile tugging at her lips. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you like it.”
She hated that he was right.
Before she could respond, Eric reached into his coat and pulled out a bottle of champagne. Not just any champagne—the expensive kind. The kind she’d only ever seen in luxury restaurants and on the arms of billionaires.
She narrowed her eyes. “Where did you get that?”
He popped the cork effortlessly, pouring the golden liquid into two glasses. “Would you believe me if I said magic?”
“No.”
“Then let’s just say I have my ways.”
Angela took the glass he offered but didn’t sip. “So, let me get this straight. You climb rooftops, carry around fancy champagne, and have an entire mysterious aura going on. What exactly are you? A secret agent? A runaway prince?”
Eric chuckled, tilting his glass in a mock toast. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“Yeah, actually, I would.”
He studied her for a moment, then took a slow sip of his drink. “I told you—one night, no lies. Ask me anything.”
Angela considered that. She wanted answers, but she had a feeling Eric only gave what he wanted to give. He had also told her he liked her but she didn't know what reply to give him.
When he realized she hadn't decided on whether to say yes or no, he had grabbed her hands and raced out of the bar with her.
“Where are you from?”
“Here and there.”
She groaned. “That’s not an answer.”
He smirked. “It’s the best you’re going to get.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Fine. What do you do for a living?”
“I have a few businesses.”
“Vague.”
“Deliberate.”
Angela let out a frustrated sigh. “You’re impossible.”
Eric leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a low whisper. “And yet, you’re still here.”
Damn it.
She was still here.
The night stretched between them, thick with unanswered questions, stolen glances, and the kind of tension that made her chest feel too tight.
After another sip of champagne, Eric reached into his pocket and pulled out something small, setting it on the ledge beside them.
A silver coin.
Angela frowned. “What’s that?”
“A game.” He picked it up and flipped it between his fingers effortlessly. “Heads, I tell you something real about me. Tails, you tell me something you’ve never told anyone.”
She hesitated. “And what if I don’t want to play?”
He smirked. “Then you’ll never know if I’m a secret agent or a runaway prince.”
She rolled her eyes but found herself nodding. “Fine. Flip the damn coin.”
Eric tossed it into the air. It spun, catching the moonlight before landing neatly on the back of his hand.
Heads.
Angela leaned forward. “Well?”
He took a slow breath. “I never stay in one place for too long. A few months, maybe a year, and then I move on.”
She frowned. “Why?”
“That’s another question.”
“Damn it.”
He laughed and flipped the coin again. This time—tails.
Angela groaned. “Okay, um…” She bit her lip, thinking. “I don’t actually hate Valentine’s Day as much as I say I do.”
Eric raised a brow. “No?”
She sighed. “I mean, I do. But not because of the holiday itself. More because I’ve never had a good one.”
He was quiet for a moment. “Not even one?”
She shook her head. “Nope. Always alone. Always watching other people be in love.”
Eric studied her, something unreadable in his gaze. “That’s a shame.”
She scoffed. “Yeah, well. Not everyone gets a fairytale romance.”
He didn’t respond to that. Instead, he flipped the coin again.
Heads.
Angela smirked. “Your turn.”
Eric hesitated this time as if debating how much to reveal. Then, finally—
“I know more about you than you think.”
A shiver ran down her spine. “What does that mean?”
Eric lifted the coin, watching it catch the light. “It means I’ve been watching for longer than you realize.”
Her heart pounded. “Eric —”
He turned toward her, stepping closer, closing the space between them. “You intrigue me, Angela. I’ve never met anyone like you.”
Her breath caught in her throat.
And then—
His lips crashed into hers.
It wasn’t slow. It wasn’t hesitant. It was like a storm—wild, all-consuming, like he’d been waiting forever for this moment.
Angela didn’t think. She didn’t analyze. She just melted into it, letting his hands grip her waist, letting the rooftop disappear, letting the city lights blur around them.
Maybe this was reckless. Maybe this was dangerous.
But right now?
She didn’t care.