The gala was over, the ballroom lights dimmed, and the last of the corporate socialites had disappeared into sleek black town cars. Aria stepped out into the cool night air, the city skyline glittering around her like a thousand scattered stars.
She should've gone home.
But something about the way the evening had left her restless, a little giddy from champagne and far too aware of a certain smug idiot in a tailored suit, kept her feet moving — straight toward the hotel's rooftop terrace.
When she pushed open the heavy door, she wasn't surprised to find Ethan already there.
Leaning against the railing, collar undone, hair a little wild, staring out over the city like it belonged to him.
"I should've known you'd be up here," Aria called out.
He turned, grinning. "What can I say? I like my view dramatic."
She snorted, walking over to lean beside him. "You mean you like places where you can feel like the main character in a brooding indie film."
Ethan chuckled. "Guilty."
They stood in silence for a while, the kind of quiet that wasn't uncomfortable for once.
"Nice save back there," he said finally. "At the presentation."
Aria shrugged. "We're a team, remember?"
"Yeah," he said softly. "I keep forgetting you're actually… kind of amazing at this."
She glanced over, surprised to find him not smirking for once. No teasing glint in his eyes. Just honest, unfiltered admiration.
It made something in her chest tighten.
"I'm serious," Ethan added. "You're tough as hell, Lane. And yeah, you drive me insane, but… you also kinda make me better."
Aria swallowed hard, the compliment landing sharper than any insult he'd ever thrown her way.
"Okay, who are you and what have you done with Ethan Cole?"
He grinned. "I'm still me. Just… slightly less of an ass after two glasses of scotch."
She laughed, brushing a loose curl behind her ear.
"Y'know," he said after a beat, his voice lower now, "I wasn't lying when I said you looked good tonight."
Aria's pulse stuttered. The way he was looking at her — like there was no one else in the city, no war between them, no rules. Just them.
"You're not half-bad yourself," she managed.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Then Ethan stepped a little closer.
"So," he murmured, eyes flicking to her lips, "what's the protocol here? Are we still fighting, or…"
He didn't finish.
Because Aria, against every rational, promotion-chasing, career-minded bone in her body, found herself leaning in.
Closer.
Closer.
And then—
The rooftop door slammed open behind them.
Aria jumped back like she'd touched a live wire. A tipsy hotel guest stumbled out, giggling on her phone, oblivious to the moment she'd just wrecked.
Ethan cursed under his breath, running a hand through his hair. "Well. That answers that."
Aria's heart pounded in her ears. She forced a shaky laugh. "Guess we'll… pick up our fight tomorrow?"
"Yeah," he said quietly. "Tomorrow."
And as they both walked away from the almost-kiss-that-definitely-didn't-happen, neither of them could quite stop smiling...