(Two weeks later)
Mia's POV
It had been two long, silent weeks since Ryan returned from France. We hadn't spoken about the kiss. We hadn't spoken much at all.
I buried myself in work at Saint Haven Medical Center, and from what I heard through Ezra, Ryan was doing the same.
But something between us had changed. Shifted.
So when Paula suggested another dinner—no excuses—I agreed. It was time to see where we all stood again.
And this time, I wasn't playing safe.
I didn't wear the lavender dress Ryan had once chosen. I didn't want to feel like a possession. I chose a black dress instead. Bold. Figure-hugging. Cut low enough to make a point, but not so much that it begged for attention.
When Paula zipped me up, her grin was wicked. "You're showing your claws, babe."
"And you're drooling over Ezra already," I shot back, laughing.
---
The dinner was hosted in the penthouse. Ezra and Ryan were already seated at the table with glasses of wine when we arrived.
Ryan's eyes found me instantly.
He paused mid-sip. Slowly lowered his glass.
I saw the flicker in his eyes. Surprise? Annoyance? Want?
"I see you chose black tonight," he said finally.
I gave a half-smile. "It suits the mood."
He said nothing, but his gaze lingered longer than necessary.
Just then, the elevator opened. Lia, Reo, and little Eric arrived, brightening the room with their energy.
Eric ran straight to me. "Auntie Mia!"
I bent down and hugged him tightly. "Missed you, little man."
Dinner was smooth. Conversation flowed. Ezra and Paula sat close, whispering and laughing. Ryan kept glancing my way, never speaking more than necessary.
Eric, worn out from the day, ended up falling asleep curled up on the couch with his plush dragon in his arms.
Lia smiled gently. "Looks like we'll need to head home early."
Reo helped her lift Eric carefully into his arms. "You four enjoy the rest of the evening. Call us tomorrow."
And with that, they were gone.
Just the four of us now.
---
Ezra opened another bottle of wine. The music changed, lower and sultry. The room felt different. Intimate.
"I love this song," Paula murmured. "Dance with me?" she asked Ezra, teasing.
He didn't even hesitate. He took her hand and pulled her toward the open floor space.
They swayed. Her laughter echoed softly as he leaned down and whispered something in her ear. Then, out of nowhere, he kissed her.
Not rushed. Not hesitant. It was soft, deep, and confident.
She blinked after, stunned. "You kissed me."
"Didn't feel like waiting anymore," Ezra replied.
Ryan leaned next to me near the counter. "That's a bold move."
I sipped my wine. "At least someone knows what they want."
His jaw ticked, eyes unreadable. "And you?"
"I just know what I don't want."
He studied me for a long moment. Then said quietly, "You look beautiful tonight. That dress… you didn't wear it for nothing."
I turned to him, heart ticking. "And if I did?"
He stepped closer, his voice just above a whisper. "Then you're playing with fire."
I tilted my chin. "Maybe I'm tired of the cold."
We stared at each other, the space between us humming.
But neither of us moved further. Not yet.
The night stretched on. Ezra and Paula retreated to the guest room with flushed cheeks and shy grins.
Ryan poured himself another drink and walked toward his room—but paused at his door.
"I'm not the same man I was two weeks ago, Mia," he said without turning. "But I'm not a better one either."
Then he disappeared into the darkness.
And I stood there, heart pounding, unsure what burned more—his words or the silence that followed.