Chapter 19: Harder to Ignore

The moment I stepped out of the car, the air hit me—thick, humid, and pulsing with bass that seemed to seep straight into my bones. The neon lights outside The Velvet Room flickered in erratic patterns, painting the cracked pavement in pink and blue streaks. I stood there for a second, just breathing, trying to summon the courage to move. My body was still trembling from the near accident, my hands clutching my purse so tightly my knuckles ached.

When I finally pushed open the door, the music swallowed me whole. The sound was deafening—heavy bass thudding through the floorboards, lights flashing like a strobe of memories. The same place. The same chaos. The same intoxicating scent of sweat, alcohol, and regret.

Except this time, I didn’t belong.

Eyes turned to me almost immediately. I didn’t have to look down to know why. My thin cotton pyjamas clung to my skin, wrinkled and damp with nervous sweat. My hair was a mess, my face probably streaked with tears and smudged mascara. I looked like a ghost who’d lost her way back to the living.

“Nice outfit, sweetheart,” one of the guys near the bar jeered, his tone lazy and drunk. Laughter erupted around him.

I ignored them, clutching my bag tighter and walking faster. The smell of whiskey made my stomach churn. I could feel their eyes crawling over me as I pushed through the crowd. Then someone grabbed my wrist—a strong hand, calloused and invasive.

“Where you running off to, baby?”

Something in me snapped. I yanked my hand free and shoved him hard, my voice coming out raw and shaky. “Don’t touch me!”

He stumbled back, muttering something under his breath, but I didn’t care. I was already moving, my heart pounding so fast I could barely breathe. Every step brought back flashes of that night—Kevin’s hand on the small of my back, the way he’d looked at me like the world outside the club didn’t exist.

My legs carried me on instinct to the far corner of the building, down the narrow hallway lit only by a faint red bulb. That room. I remembered it perfectly. The way the doorknob had felt in my hand. The way my heartbeat had drowned out the music when I first stepped inside with him.

My fingers hovered in front of the door, trembling. I wanted to knock. I wanted to turn around. I wanted a thousand things at once. But before I could do anything, the door swung open.

Kevin.

He didn’t say a word—just grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me inside with a force that made my breath catch. The door slammed shut behind us, muffling the noise from outside. The dim, flickering light above us cast his face in shadows, but I could see the tension in his jaw, the faint rise and fall of his chest.

For a moment, neither of us moved. The silence between us was so heavy it almost hurt to breathe. I opened my mouth to speak—to ask him what the hell he was thinking, or why he’d left that note, or why I was even here—but no words came out.

Tears stung my eyes before I even realized I was crying. I didn’t even know why. Maybe it was from the leftover adrenaline coursing through my veins. Maybe it was from the dull ache in my shoulders and knees after slamming on the brakes earlier. Or maybe it was something deeper—something I didn’t want to admit.

Because deep down, beneath all the confusion and pain and anger, I missed him. I missed the way he made me feel alive and ruined all at once.

My voice came out small, cracked. “Kevin, I—”

Before I could finish, his hand was on my face. Warm. Certain. And then his mouth was on mine.

The kiss hit me like a collision. Rough, desperate, consuming. His lips moved against mine with a hunger that sent a shiver racing down my spine. My heart thudded painfully in my chest as every muscle in my body tensed and then gave way.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t even romantic. It was raw, messy, and almost violent in how much it said without words. All the anger, the tension, the longing—we poured it into that single moment until I couldn’t tell where the pain ended and the need began.

For a second, I hated myself for letting it happen. For coming here. For wanting him this badly. But the truth was, I’d been lying to myself all along. Because no matter how much I told myself I was done, I was still drawn to him—like fire to oxygen, like a wound to salt.

His hand slid to the back of my neck, his breath hot against my cheek. I tasted regret. I tasted desire. I tasted everything I was trying to run from.

And somewhere between his kiss and the sound of my own heartbeat roaring in my ears, I realized I was trembling again—not from fear this time, but from the terrifying truth that I loved him.

His breath was warm against my skin, smelling faintly of alcohol and heartbreak. The kind of scent that lingered after too many bad decisions. His lips moved frantically over mine, hungry and reckless, until I almost forgot what air felt like. I barely had time to think before he murmured against my mouth, his voice low and hoarse.

“I think I’ve figured out a way to prevent our parents from getting married.”

For a second, I didn’t even process what he’d said. My mind was fogged, dizzy from the rush of his kiss, the feel of his body pressing into mine. “What?” I managed to breathe, sounding more dazed than curious.

He didn’t answer right away. His lips found my neck, tracing along the tender line of my throat, his breath hot enough to make me tremble. His hands gripped my waist, pinning me softly but firmly against the cold wall. I could feel his heartbeat, erratic, unsteady—like mine.

I moaned before I could stop myself, a quiet sound that betrayed everything I was trying to hide. But then my eyes flicked open, and I saw the half-empty bottles on the table behind him. Two. Maybe three. The sight sank into me like ice.

“Kevin, stop,” I whispered, my voice small and shaking. “You’re drunk.”

He lifted his head, that crooked smirk tugging at his lips. His pupils looked darker than usual, his eyes glassy yet painfully focused on me. “I’m not, Abby…” he muttered, his words lazy, his voice rough. “Didn’t you come running because you missed me?”

The truth of it stung, because yes, I had missed him. Terribly. Desperately. I had missed the way he looked at me like he saw through every wall I built around myself. But that didn’t make it right.

I squeezed my eyes shut, my pulse hammering. “Kevin… we really need to stop this. It’s not mentally healthy for me. For us.” My voice cracked, soft but heavy with exhaustion. “We can’t keep doing this.”

He stared at me for a long second, the weight of my words hanging in the space between us. Then he stepped forward again, his hand brushing my arm, tentative this time, almost pleading.

“No, Abby,” he said, shaking his head. “We really have to stop them—from getting married. Don’t you get it? If we stop them, then we can finally be free. We could be together without…” His words faded, like he didn’t want to finish the thought.

“Kevin, can’t you see that we’re both losing our minds over this?” I whispered. My voice trembled. “Can’t you see that the more we keep holding onto this, the more dangerous it gets?”

He looked at me like I was the one who didn’t understand. Like love should be enough to fix everything.

“Abby, listen—”

“For heaven’s sake, Kevin, I’m already in love with you!”

The words flew out of me like a scream I’d been holding in for too long. The moment they left my lips, everything in the room seemed to stop. The music outside dulled into a distant thud. My heart felt like it had been ripped out of my chest and placed in his hands.

Kevin froze. His face went blank, his breath caught midair. For a moment, I thought maybe the confession had sobered him. But when he raked his hand through his hair and let out a shaky exhale, I knew it hadn’t. His eyes still had that wild, drunken haze.

“We could run away…” he said softly, almost like a plea.

The suggestion hit me harder than I expected. For a second, the image flashed in my mind—him and I, somewhere far away, living like the world didn’t exist. No expectations, no judgment, no guilt. Just him and me. But the thought vanished as quickly as it came.

“It’s too late,” I said quietly, shaking my head. “Our parents already expect us to start at the company tomorrow. They want us to take our place as heirs.”

He flinched at the word heirs—as if it carried the same weight of a curse we both didn’t want to inherit.

Kevin stepped back, his eyes darkening.