Ethan was at the hotel restaurant where he was staying in Bangkok. While eating his lunch, his eyes scanned the people around him like a hawk. Honestly, he was searching for someone. His target.
A beautiful girl with short hair.
He had been sitting there for almost two hours, but the woman he really wanted to see still hadn't shown up. What he didn't know was that Nadine had been trying her hardest to avoid him.
Deep down, Ethan was hoping she was also staying at this hotel. But after waiting that long, not even a glimpse of her, not even the tip of her nose, he let out a disappointed sigh.
"Damn it. What's her deal? Running off like that..."
***
Flashback.
Earlier That Morning
That morning, when Ethan woke up, he was surprised to find himself alone in the room. If it wasn't for the messy right side of the bed, he might've thought last night was just a dream.
He should've felt relieved. Grateful, even. She left without saying a word. No awkward goodbyes, no mess to clean up. But for some reason, it bothered him.
His ego took a hit.
She just left. No note. No "thanks for the night." Not even a fake number on a napkin.
Damn.
He was pissed. And weirdly... disappointed.
Which was wild, considering the whole reason he approached her in the first place was because, well, she was hot. Exactly his type. Face, body, attitude, all checked out.
But then, after talking to her for like five minutes, something stupid happened.
He actually started liking her.
And clearly, he was the only one catching feelings. Because she bounced like the room was on fire.
That stung.
Ethan had never been ditched before. He was the one who usually did the ghosting. Women threw themselves at him like he was made of free WiFi and abs. He barely had to blink, and they'd be tripping over their own heels just to get his attention.
He was used to being the flower. Women were the bees. But now? Now he was the one left hanging. And yeah, it felt f*cking horrible.
"Karma sucks," he muttered to himself.
***
Back in the present, a soft voice yanked him out of his thoughts.
"Excuse me... are you Ethan Clarke ? The singer?"
Ethan blinked, turning to see a woman, gorgeous, wide-eyed, clearly fangirling.
"Yeah," he replied flatly.
Usually, when a hot girl recognized him, he'd flash the smile. The smile. The one his friends swore could melt panties at fifty paces.
But today?
That smile felt useless. Yesterday, he'd tried that smile on her. Repeatedly. And what'd he get?
Laughed at. Insulted. Ditched.
Honestly, he was starting to think his friends had lied. Still, the corners of his mouth twitched. Just a little.
"Can I take a picture with you? I'm like, your biggest fan," the girl said, eyes glowing like Christmas lights.
"Sure," Ethan agreed, not even pretending to be into it.
He forced a half-smile, took the photo, and was out of there before she could ask for a selfie video too.
His brain wasn't in the restaurant. It was still stuck on her. He made one last stop in the lobby, hoping, just hoping, he might catch sight of her. But nope. Nothing.
She was either hiding, gone, or a damn hallucination.
Annoyed, and honestly a little heartbroken, Ethan headed back to his hotel room.
Why the hell are you obsessing over her? he asked himself. There are a million girls out there hotter than her. You're Ethan freakin' Cole. Get it together, man.
He reminded himself of why he came to Bangkok in the first place, to write new songs for the band's next single. But of course, that wasn't working out either.
Whose fault was that?
His own. Obviously.
He didn't need anyone to tell him that. He knew.
And yet... She was still in his head. Like a song he couldn't skip.
***
Back in his room, Ethan couldn't stop replaying what happened yesterday.
He'd been desperate for some kind of inspiration for his new song. Sitting in his room doing nothing clearly wasn't working, just him, the walls, and a creative block the size of Bangkok. So, in a moment of desperation, he decided to hit the pool. Maybe fresh air and half-naked strangers would jog something loose in his brain. Worth a shot, right?
The second he arrived, he felt it. Every pair of eyes in the pool area casually or blatantly turning his way. The usual routine followed. Flirty smiles, sultry glances, and enough winks to cause an eye spasm.
"Hey, handsome."
"I'm your biggest fan."
"My name's Elisa."
"I'm in room 2007."
"I'm free tonight."
Right. Subtle wasn't in fashion today.
Ethan had heard it all before. He knew some of them were joking, but a good chunk weren't. Still, he had one go-to move for situations like this, smile and move along. Just because people called him a playboy didn't mean he was one without standards. Getting into his heart or his bed wasn't an open invitation, there were terms and conditions.
He lounged on a sunbed, doing what any uninspired musician-slash-heartthrob would do. People-watch. Specifically, woman-watch. His gaze drifted around until it locked onto someone... different.
There she was.
Short, shoulder-length hair. Smooth, fair skin. Long, lean legs. Perfectly balanced curves. And shock of the day, she wasn't wearing a bikini designed for maximum attention. Nope. She was rocking a simple black tank top and matching hotpants like she couldn't care less about the thirsty crowd around her.
That? That caught his eye more than all the flashy swimwear and desperate giggles combined.
He couldn't see her whole face thanks to the comically oversized sunglasses, but his trained, highly experienced instincts told him: yeah, this one's got a beautiful face under there.
"My type," he muttered with a smirk.
With his usual overconfidence, Ethan stood and made his way toward her. Showtime.
"Hi," he said, flashing his signature smile.
She turned her head slowly, pushed her sunglasses up, and met his gaze. Brown eyes. Stunning. And just like that, something did a little somersault in his stomach.
Weird. Cute. Whatever.
She stared at him, confused. Like, legit confused. Not the "oh my God, I can't believe it's him" type, no. This was more "who the hell is this guy and why is he talking to me?"
Oof. That stung a little.
Still, he gave her the million-dollar smile. The one that usually had girls melting in under five seconds.
One second. Two. Five. Eight.
Nothing.
She just kept staring at him like he was an escaped zoo animal.
"You really don't know who I am?"
"Oh my God, are you deaf? I already told you. I don't know you."
Ethan couldn't help it. Her annoyed face was kind of adorable. Her snark? Even better. So yeah, he kept poking the bear. Maybe a little too much.
And then she got up. Tried to walk away.
That's when panic kicked in.
He didn't want her to leave. Not yet. Not like that.
So he did something incredibly stupid.
He grabbed her wrist, spun her around and kissed her.
Just like that.
No warning. No permission. No brain involved.
She froze. Her whole body stiffened like she'd been hit with lightning. She started pushing against his chest, hard. But he didn't let go.
She squirmed, struggling to get free but Ethan held on, completely ignoring the alarms blaring in his own head.
And yeah... he knew he screwed up. But it was too late.
By the second kiss, she stopped fighting him.
Her defenses cracked. Completely. And then, to Ethan's absolute delight, she kissed him back. Arms slowly wrapping around his neck like some kind of green light he didn't deserve.
Yeah. Victory tasted sweet.
And speaking of sweet, her lips still held traces of that tequila she'd just downed. That smooth, burning kind of sweetness that went straight to his head. Or maybe it wasn't the drink. Maybe it was her. Either way, Ethan was screwed. In the best, most dangerous way.
He couldn't stop.
His brain had officially left the building. All he could think about now was how fast he could get her out of that outfit and into his bed. Preferably without bumping into any walls on the way there.
Between the adrenaline, tequila, and her mouth on his, they somehow stumbled their way back to his room, breathless, messy, and completely high on whatever the hell this was.
And yeah, Ethan was already halfway gone.
***