Hannah woke up in the middle of the night, her entire body aching.
If she told anyone what happened last night, nobody would believe her. She had just slept with John Carter.
It was her first time, so there was no magical fireworks sensation, only lingering soreness.
What burned itself into her memory, though, was the contrast. When his stubble grazed her cheek, the air turned thick with heat. He breathed against her neck, kissed her ear, and spoke in a deep, raspy whisper. The skin-to-skin contact made her feel like she was catching fire.
The entire time, John kept whispering a name in her ear. She couldn't hear what name it was, but that didn't stop her heart from pounding out of her chest.
When she opened her eyes in the dark, John was still asleep. She stared at his sharp, cold features and felt an overwhelming sense of closeness to him.
She craved the warmth of his chest. Part of her foolishly wanted to stay in bed, pull his arm around her, and drift back to sleep.
But she knew better. Staying here meant inviting disaster.
John Carter was the CEO of Carter International. If word got out that Hannah, a mere intern, slept with him, the consequences were obvious. At best, she would be fired on the spot. At worst, she would be labeled a shameless climber, ruined, and run out of the city for good.
It had all started on the first night of the company retreat. John got completely drunk, grabbed her hand as she helped him into his room, and kissed her without warning.
At first, her mind went blank. She meant to push him away, but when she looked up at his face, her hands froze. She couldn't bring herself to resist.
Before that night, Hannah had never even spoken to him face-to-face.
Holding back her pain, Hannah forced her weak legs to walk her back to her own room. She swore to pretend nothing had ever happened.
By six the next afternoon, several company buses were lined up outside the hotel to take everyone home.
Hannah boarded the bus alongside another intern, Tina. The moment she stepped on, her heart leaped into her throat. Sitting right in the very first row, eyes closed and resting his head, was John Carter.
The rest of the bus was completely packed, leaving only the seat next to John and the row right behind him completely empty.
Hannah's face turned beet red. Since she and Tina arrived late, they had no choice but to sit directly behind him.
"Didn't Mr. Carter drive his own car here?" Tina leaned in, whispering in Hannah's ear. "Why is he taking the bus back with us?"
Tina had a naturally loud voice, so even her quietest whisper carried down the aisle.
"I don't know," Hannah replied, keeping her head down.
When she got on the bus, she had discreetly covered her face with her hand, terrified he might recognize her.
Still, a small part of her held onto hope. Maybe he was too drunk to remember anything from last night. Or maybe he remembered the night, but didn't know who she was. They had never interacted before, he was wasted, and the lights were off for most of it.
To pass the long drive, Tina pulled out her phone. Hannah wanted to scroll through hers too, but when she dug through her purse, it was missing.
She nudged Tina. "Can you call my phone? I think I misplaced it."
"Where did you leave it?" Tina murmured, dialing her number.
A sweet ringtone immediately echoed through the quiet bus. But the sound wasn't coming from Hannah's bag or her luggage.
It was ringing from the row right in front of her. To be exact, it was coming from the phone sitting right in John Carter's hand.
Every hair on Hannah's arms stood straight up.