Chapter 6: First Kiss After Brandon
2838 Words
Chloe
My fingers were still trembling as I shoved my phone into my jacket pocket. I needed air. I needed movement. I had to get out into the open where I could see who was around me.
I hurried out of the building, my boots hitting the pavement in a fast, restless rhythm.
The cool evening air hit my face as six o'clock approached, the sky dipping into deep shades of dusk, but it did nothing to quiet my racing thoughts. Streetlights were just beginning to flicker to life along the avenue. Everything was hitting me at once in a chaotic, suffocating wave.
The ruined was wedding.
Brandon’s brutal betrayal in our hotel room.
Sienna’s cold, scheming eyes as she stood beside him, completely devoid of guilt.
And now…the terrifying reality that someone knew I had fled to this exact city. How could anyone know? I hadn't told a soul. I hadn't posted it online as I always do. I had just gotten in my car and driven until my eyes burned. Was I being tracked? Was someone keeping an eye on me? Was I someone’s target?
My mind was spinning so fast that the world around me blurred into background noise.
I turned a corner into a busy commercial plaza filled with evening commuters, completely unaware of the uneven concrete edge of the curb. My boot caught the raised lip of the pavement.
"Ouchhhhh!"
The breath gasped from my lungs as the force of gravity pulled me toward the ground. I lurched forward, my arms shooting out in both directions to cushion my descent onto the unforgiving surface. Shame flooded over me before I'd even hit the ground. I was prepared for the pain of cold concrete upon my palms and knees.
Instead, two powerful arms held me tightly from behind around my waist. The hard shock of impact stopped my charge immediately, dragging me backwards before I could reach the pavement. My sudden velocity again threw me off balance, and I turned blindly to steady myself against the force.
I found myself slammed flush against a broad, solid chest.
The impact sent a shockwave through my spine. I jerked my head up in sheer shock, my mouth slightly parted to apologize. At that exact microsecond, he lowered his head to check on me.
That was when our lips collided.
It wasn't a sweet, deliberate kiss. It was a firm, unexpected clash of warm lips under the glow of the evening streetlights. His lips pressed full against mine, solid and warm, freezing time completely.
My eyes went wide. For one long, suspended second, neither of us moved. The roar of the evening rush-hour traffic faded into absolute silence. I could feel the steady, slow thump of his heart right beneath my chest through his coat. I could feel the sheer, unyielding broadness of his shoulders under my trembling hands.
"I…I am so sorry!" I stammered out, my voice high and tight with acute embarrassment. "I lost my footing…I didn't mean to…I swear I didn't mean to do that!"
I braced myself for the reaction I had grown accustomed to over four years. I expected a smirk. I expected an annoyed eye roll. I expected him to look at my body with that familiar disgust, as if my weight had made the impact an unbearable inconvenience.
To my surprise…He didn't laugh. He didn't taunt. He just stood there, completely composed.
He was older than the men I was used to being around…certainly older than Brandon and his arrogant, college-buddy crowd. He wore a navy blue coat that fit his broad shoulders perfectly. His dark hair was neatly styled, and his gray-blue eyes were calm, steady, and strangely unbothered by the chaos we had just created. His towering presence made me acutely, intensely aware of just how close we were still standing on the pavement.
"Are you hurt?" he asked.
His voice was deep, smooth, and entirely controlled. There was no mockery in it. No subtle judgment. I was surprised… No one has ever cared for me this way except for Brandon even though it turned out to be a lie.
"No," I choked out, my face burning so hot I felt like I was standing in front of an open furnace. "No, I'm... I'm completely fine. I just... I tripped."
"Take a breath," he said quietly, stepping back just half a pace to give me space, though his eyes remained fixed on mine. "You almost fell pretty hard."
"I'm fine," I repeated, pulling my jacket tighter around myself against the evening chill, trying desperately to make myself smaller. "Really. Thank you for helping me. I'm sorry again."
My stomach swirled with a complex mix of embarrassment, raw vulnerability, and an unexpected, unwanted spark of heat low in my chest. I hated the reaction immediately. I was deeply disturbed by my own body's response. After what Brandon had said to me—after he had told me he had to force himself to tolerate touching my skin—I didn't want any man's attention. I didn't want to feel anything toward anyone. I felt damaged, messy, and exposed. Yet, this stranger wasn't looking at me like I was a burden.
He didn't stare at my hips or my waist with judgment.
He didn't make me feel like I needed to apologize simply for taking up space on the sidewalk. His utter calm was deeply unsettling. I wrapped my arms around my waist, my eyes darting toward the street. All I wanted was to turn around and run back to my apartment before this humiliating encounter became something I had to emotionally process.
"I should go," I said quickly, taking a cautious step backward away from him.
"Are you sure you don't need a moment?" he asked, his hands resting easily in his coat pockets. He gave me enough distance to breathe, his posture relaxed yet attentive. "You look a bit shaken."
"I'm okay," I lied, forcing a tight, polite smile that didn't reach my eyes. "Just got distracted. Bye."
I turned on my heel and began walking briskly down the sidewalk, my boots clicking rapidly against the pavement as I put distance between us. My head was pounding. Strong arms, my mind unhelpfully reminded me. That controlled, deep voice.
Stop it, I scolded myself harshly, digging my fingernails into my palms inside my pockets. Stop it right now. I forced Brandon’s cruel words back to the surface of my mind, using them as a shield against the faint warmth lingering on my lips. Attention was not love. A man catching you when you fall didn't mean he saw value in you. Brandon had given me attention for four years, and it had all been a hollow, conditional game. I couldn't afford to be naive ever again.
I kept moving, the distance between us growing with every fast step I took.
As I reached the corner of the block, a sudden realization hit me like a cold splash of water.
I hadn't even asked his name.
I slowed my pace slightly, my boots hovering over the concrete. It was stupid, but a strange curiosity pricked at the edge of my consciousness. He had been polite. He had been a gentleman when I had practically thrown my full weight against him and forced an accidental kiss upon him.
I almost turned my head back. My shoulder twitched, debating whether to look over my shoulder just once to see if he was still standing there.
No, I thought, hardening my heart. It doesn't matter who he is. You're starting over. You don't need anyone, not even this stranger.. I kept walking, refusing to look back.
"Miss?"
His deep, resonant voice cut cleanly through the evening ambient noise of the street behind me.
I froze mid-step.
My pulse spiked instantly. I turned around slowly, my heart hammering against my ribs so fast that I could hear it. He looked at me for a long, quiet moment, his expression unreadable, his dark eyes searching my face with a steady intensity that made my breath catch.
Then, he reached into his coat pocket and held out his hand.
"You dropped this," he said simply.
Resting in his palm was my small, leather card holder—the one containing my driver's license and my primary credit card. It must have slipped out of my jacket pocket when we collided. I hadn't even realized I had lost it. Without it, I would have been completely stranded in a new city with no identification and no money.
"Oh," I said, my eyes widening. "I... I didn't even notice."
I walked back toward him, my steps hesitant, my eyes fixed on the small leather wallet in his hand. I reached out, extending my arm to retrieve it.
"Thank you," I murmured softly.
“You should be more careful with your belongings,” he said softly as I reached for the card holder. “Especially when you're distracted.”
I reached out and took it from his hand. As I pulled it away, his long, warm fingers brushed against mine.
A sharp spark shot up my arm.
The contact lasted barely a second, yet my heart lurched, pounding wildly against my ribs. I quickly pulled my hand back, clutching the card holder against my chest as I looked up at him.
God, I hated how easily my body betrayed me. After everything I'd been through, how could a single, accidental touch from a handsome stranger still make my blood run hot?
He didn't move away. His calm gaze lingered on my flushed face, holding me captive in the middle of the crowded street.
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