Chapter 10 Sex Before Paris
Rain fell in a soft drizzle, coating London in silver and shadow. Shopia almost turned back twice. She told herself she shouldn't have come and that responding to his message was a mistake. But something stronger than reason had pulled her here.
Now, standing in the lobby of The Corinthian Hotel, she felt it again, that mysterious magnetic current.
The elevator doors opened, and there he was.
Alexander Maxwell.
Despite his dark suit, open collar, and faint trace of exhaustion around his eyes, he appeared impeccably composed. They both remained silent for a brief moment. The silence between them was thick enough to drown in.
“Shopia,” he said finally, her name sounding softer than it should.
“Alex.” Her voice barely came out.
He gestured toward the quiet lounge by the windows, overlooking the city.
“I didn’t think you’d come.”
“I almost didn’t, but you said you needed to see me,” she admitted.
He nodded slowly. “I did. Because after that night… after what I said, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. About you.”
“You mean the night you made me feel like a mistake?” Her throat tightened.
He winced, the words cutting cleanly through his calm.
“You weren’t a mistake.”
“Then what was I?”
He exhaled, running a hand through his hair, the gesture betraying the tension underneath his tailored composure.
“You were… unexpected. You made me lose control. I said things I didn’t mean because it scared me.”
“Scared you?” she echoed, a bitter smile tugging at her lips.
“You’re Alex Maxwell. Nothing scares you.”
He took a step closer, allowing her to detect the faint scent of his cologne, sharp, grounding, and achingly familiar.
"You do," he said softly.
“You make me feel things I don’t know how to handle.”
For a moment, the rain and the city outside seemed to fade.
Her heart pounded painfully.
“You think that’s an excuse?”
“No, but it’s the truth.” He shook his head slowly.
"And I was jealous when you made out with that stanger at the club," Alex continued.
Shopia stopped moving.The air between them shifted, becoming denser and sharper. A charged silence rather than an empty one.
Her gaze shifted to his, disbelief flickering through them.
“Jealous? You don’t get to be jealous, Alex,” she repeated quietly, almost laughing at the absurdity.
He didn’t flinch, but something in his jaw tightened.
“Maybe not. But I was.”
She shook her head, taking a small step back, as if distance could steady her.
“You made it very clear what I was to you. And after that, you think you have the right to feel anything about what I do?”
“I know how it sounds, But seeing you with him–” He stopped, swallowing hard. “It did something to me. Something I couldn’t explain.”
Her breath caught, part anger, part ache.
“It wasn’t supposed to mean anything. I just wanted to forget you. To forget how small you made me feel.”
Alex stepped forward again, his tone softening but his gaze unyielding.
“You think I don’t hate myself for that? For the words I said? I’ve replayed them a hundred times, wishing I could take them back.”
“Then why say them at all?”
“Because I’m a coward, Shopia,” he said finally, voice rough with truth.
“Because that night, when you looked at me, it felt like something I didn’t deserve.”
She stared at him, her pulse echoing in her ears.
“And what do you deserve then? Empty hotel rooms? Women whose names you don’t remember?”
He smiled faintly, a trace of bitterness in it. “Maybe. It’s easier that way. No one gets hurt.”
“But i got hurt. You hurt me,” she said, the words trembling.
He closed his eyes, as if the admission itself was a wound.
“I know.”
“Why are you telling me all this?” she asked finally, her voice barely a whisper.
"Because I'm leaving tomorrow, and I can't leave without telling you the truth, even if it doesn't change anything.”
Her throat became tight.
“The truth?”
“That I can’t stop thinking about you. That I tried, and I failed. That even when I hated myself for it, I still wanted you,” he said simply.
The words hung in the air, fragile and heavy.
She looked away, blinking fast.
“You can’t just say that now, Alex. You don’t get to fix everything with words.”
“I know, but I had to say them anyway.”
He hesitated then, studying her as though memorizing her face, her silence, the storm in her eyes.
“Goodbye, Shopia.”
Alex turned around and as he took his last step, Sophia called his name.
“Alex… wait!”
Alex froze mid-step, the echo of her voice slicing through the tension like a lifeline in the dark. The hotel corridor stretched behind him, dimly lit and endless, but he didn't move. His shoulders tensed under the crisp white shirt, the one she'd watched him button up just hours ago in another lifetime, or so it seemed.
Sophia’s heart hammered against her ribs, a wild, desperate rhythm. She hadn't meant to call out. The word had escaped her, raw and unbidden, born from the ache that had been building since the moment he walked away the first time. Her bare feet padded softly on the carpet as she closed the distance, the hem of her silk robe brushing her thighs.
"Wait," she repeated, softer now, her hand reaching out to graze his arm. The contact sent a jolt through her, electric and familiar, igniting memories of tangled sheets and whispered promises in the dead of night.
He turned slowly, his dark eyes locked on hers, stormy, conflicted, and alive with something he'd worked so hard to hide.
"Sophia..." His voice was a low rumble, laced with warning and want.
"Don't do this. Not if you don't mean it."
"I don't know what I mean," she admitted, her fingers curling into the fabric of his sleeve, holding him there. The air between them thickened, charged with the scent of his cologne
"But I can't let you walk away again. Not like this. Not after... everything."
His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking as he fought the pull.
"You should. I'm no good for you. You said it yourself I hurt you."
"You did," she whispered, stepping closer until their bodies were inches apart, heat radiating between them like a forbidden flame. Her free hand rose to his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heart mirroring her own.
"But staying away hurts more. God, Alex, do you have any idea what it's been like? Waking up every morning wondering if that night was real, if you felt even half of what I did?"
He swallowed hard, his hand coming up to cover hers, pressing it harder against his chest as if to anchor himself.
"It was real. Too real. That's why I left. I thought distance would make it fade, but it only made me crave you more."