EMMA

The after-party buzzed with laughter and music. The garden, now bathed in the warm glow of fairy lights, held a fresh kind of enchantment, like something out of a dream.

I stood to the side, the weight of my earlier realization pressing on me.

Eric was right. I needed to step back from Jake—before this thing between us became something neither of us could walk away from unscathed. Because the longer I kept pretending this could last, the harder it was becoming to make the choice I knew was inevitable.

I needed to leave—for both of our sakes.

But not tonight.

Tonight, I had made a promise to myself. I would push those thoughts aside and be fully present. No second-guessing, no what-ifs. Just this moment. Just him.

Just for tonight, we weren't a con artist and an FBI agent. We were just a boy and a girl, caught in something neither of us fully understood—but unable to pull away from.

Letting out a slow breath, I scanned the crowd—and found him instantly.

His laughter cut through the noise, distinct and familiar—a melody I could pick out even in a crowded room. He had shed his suit jacket, his tie loosened, sleeves rolled up as he moved with an easy kind of charm, caught in a spontaneous dance with Luke. It was unfiltered joy, unpracticed and free, fueled by celebration—and maybe one too many glasses of champagne.

And then, as if drawn by some invisible string, his eyes found mine.

His smile was a beacon, warm and undeniable. And without thinking, without hesitation, I felt myself moving—drawn toward him, toward whatever this was, for however long it would last.

Jake stepped forward, meeting me halfway, his hand extended. "Dance with me."

I arched a brow, letting amusement creep into my tone. "Are you asking or telling?"

His grin was effortless, playful. "A bit of both. You looked like you needed rescuing from that last conversation."

I let out a laugh. "You noticed."

I had just finished talking to one of Jake's friends, an insurance investigator, who had spent the last ten minutes discussing art theft and fraud—and, unfortunately, a certain piece Eric and I had acquired under less-than-legal circumstances. It had taken every ounce of my composure to keep my expression neutral.

Jake's fingers laced through mine, his gaze never leaving mine. "I always notice you."

For a second, my smile faltered, the weight of those words settling deep in my chest, stirring something I wasn't sure I could afford to feel. But then, Dance Me to the End of Love began playing, the familiar melody weaving through the air, and I held onto it like a lifeline.

I squeezed his hand, forcing the ache aside. "Let's dance."

Jake smiled and led me onto the dance floor. And just like that, the world around us faded, the chatter of guests, the clinking of glasses, all dissolving into the background. Only the music remained, and the soft glow of fairy lights, casting a golden haze over everything, making it feel like we existed in a space outside of time—just him and me.

Jake pulled me in, his arms wrapping around me, one hand settling at the small of my back, the other still holding mine. His warmth seeped into my skin, his heartbeat a quiet rhythm against mine.

We moved together without effort, without thought, as if this was something we had done a hundred times before.

"Is this what you imagined for tonight?" I found myself asking, my voice barely above a whisper.

"I didn't know exactly what to expect." He glanced down at me, a smile tugging at his lips. "But I'm glad it's this."

A quiet laugh passed between us, easy and unguarded, melting away some of the weight pressing on my chest. For once, everything between us felt simple. Just two people wrapped in a moment where the past, the future, all the things left unspoken, didn't matter. Only now mattered.

Jake pulled me a little closer, his breath warm against my temple. "But I'll give you a confession."

I arched an eyebrow. "Oh?"

His smile deepened. "No matter how it went, I still wanted it to be special—for both of us."

I heard the sincerity in his voice, and it stirred something deep inside me—something like loss. Not of something I once had, but of something I never truly got the chance to hold.

"It is special," I said, feeling a lump in my throat. "It's more than I could have hoped for."

The song began to fade, the world creeping back in, but neither of us let go just yet. We stayed there, wrapped in each other's arms, savoring the moment a little longer.

I looked up at him, searching his face. "Thank you for this. For everything."

Jake's lips twitched, a familiar glimmer of mischief sparking in his eyes. "You're saying that like the night is over." He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping into something softer. "I promise you, it's far from it."

I tilted my head. "What do you mean?"

Jake grinned. "You'll see."

Before I could press him further, Luke and Chloe appeared, their faces glowing with happiness.

"Congratulations," I said, pulling Chloe into a warm hug. "You both look so happy."

"Thank you." Chloe beamed, squeezing my hands. "You two were wonderful out there."

I chuckled. "Oh, it's nothing compared to you two."

Luke pulled me into a friendly hug, grinning. "I'm thrilled to finally meet the infamous Emma."

I shot Jake a teasing glance. "Infamous, huh?"

Jake rolled his eyes. "Don't encourage him."

Luke's expression softened as he looked between us. "You've really made this night special. I haven't seen Jake this happy in ages." His voice dropped slightly, as if he was letting me in on something personal. "He's more comfortable with you than he's been with anyone else."

Jake and I exchanged a glance. Neither of us spoke, but the moment spoke for itself.

Chloe's excitement pulled us back in. "We're heading to the Caribbean for our honeymoon. I can't wait to hit the beach and just... breathe. Boarding starts soon, so we need to get going!"

My heart was full of genuine happiness for them. "Have an amazing time," I said. "You both deserve it."

With a final wave, Luke and Chloe disappeared into the night, their getaway car decorated with a classic 'Just Married' sign.

Jake then turned to me, his eyes searching mine. "Ready for the next part of the night?"

Something in his voice made my pulse quicken. "That depends. Am I walking into a kidnapping?"

He grinned. "Not unless you want it to be."

I laughed, shaking my head. "Fine, Parker. Lead the way."

And just like that, I let him.

My mind raced with guesses, trying to piece together what Jake might be planning.

I had expected a late-night coffee run or maybe a quiet walk through Central Park. Not this. Not the Empire State Building.

The towering icon loomed before us as we pulled up, its golden lights illuminating the night sky. I turned to Jake, utterly confused. "What are we doing here?"

He just smiled, that playful grin lighting up his face. "You'll see."

I narrowed my eyes, but curiosity gnawed at me as we stepped inside.

A sharply dressed man greeted us, shaking Jake's hand. "Everything is ready."

Ready for what?

I had no time to question it as Jake led me toward the elevator. We rode in silence, the soft hum of the machinery mirroring the buzzing anticipation in my chest. And when the doors slid open, I gasped.

A private floor stretched before us, bathed in the warm glow of candlelight. A single table was set up by the floor-to-ceiling windows, flickering flames reflecting against polished silverware. A bottle of wine waited, carefully placed beside an elegant arrangement of flowers.

I turned to him, stunned. "How did you pull this off?"

He shrugged like it was nothing. "The manager owed me a favor. I helped him out with something a while back, and, well... this is the least I could do."

I shook my head, still trying to process it. "Jake, this is... I don't even know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," he said, handing me a glass of wine before we sat. "It's just a small thank-you."

"For what?"

"For coming with me tonight. For being here." His gaze held mine, steady yet unreadable, but there was something flickering beneath the surface—something deeper. "And for everything ahead. You've got big things coming, Emma. Before the whirlwind starts, I thought we should celebrate."

I smiled, warmth spreading through me, but there was a heaviness in the air, something unsaid lingering between us. And the night felt like it was teetering on the edge of something neither of us was ready for.

Pushing those thoughts to the back of my mind, I raised my glass. "To the whirlwind."

Jake smiled, clinking his glass against mine. "To the whirlwind."

The conversation between us flowed as naturally as it always did, easy and full of laughter. We had split a dessert, with Jake smirking as he caught me stealing the last bite.

It was comfortable, familiar, the kind of night I could have let myself believe would happen again and again. But deep down, I knew better.

Jake leaned back in his chair, eyes drifting toward the skyline for a moment before turning back to me. There was something different in his expression now—something quieter, more thoughtful.

"You ever think about all the things we don't say?" he asked, his voice laced with an edge of uncertainty. "The ones we keep locked up because we're afraid to mess things up?"

I gripped my glass a little tighter. "All the time."

And God, if only he knew.

I hesitated before adding, "I guess that's what makes it so complicated. Saying it out loud could change everything." Like maybe you getting to know the truth about me.

Jake studied me, his green eyes unreadable. "Yeah." A small pause, then, "But sometimes, it's worth the risk."

My throat tightened. Was he talking about us? About tonight?

Before I could find the right words, Jake stood and reached for my hand.

"Come on," he said, his voice lighter now. "I told you—the night's only getting better."

We rode another elevator, ascending higher and higher—up to the 103rd floor. And then the doors opened to reveal a small, secret balcony.

"Welcome to the top of New York," Jake said, his voice low, almost lost in the wind.

I blinked, momentarily breathless. The city stretched before us, endless and glittering, like someone had scattered diamonds across the darkness.

I shivered—not from the cold, but from the sheer gravity of the moment.

Jake's hand tightened around mine. When I turned to him, his expression was serious, intense.

"Emma. I have to tell you something."

A warning bell sounded in my head, but my heart pounded harder. "What is it?"

He hesitated, just for a second, before finally saying, "I really like you. And I don't want to keep pretending that I don't."

The confession hit me like a wave. I felt like the ground had just shifted beneath me. My mind scrambled, trying to grasp onto something—some excuse, some way to deflect—but nothing came. Because Jake wasn't playing a game. He wasn't maneuvering or trying to out-think me. He was just... telling me the truth.

My heart pounded against my ribs, every instinct screaming that I should step back, that I should remind myself of who I was, of who he was. That I was the girl who had been lying to him since the moment we met. That I couldn't afford to let myself feel this.

But as I stood there, his green eyes looking into mine, I couldn't bring myself to walk away. Because the truth—the real, dangerous truth—was that I felt it too.

I watched as Jake's gaze traveled to my lips, and suddenly I forgot how to breathe. And that when I should have stepped back. Should have stopped this before it crossed a line I couldn't uncross. But I didn't.

Instead, my eyes fluttered shut, and softly—hesitantly—his lips brushed against mine. A featherlight touch. A question, not a demand.

Like we were standing on the edge of something inevitable, savoring the last second before the fall. And for those few stolen moments, the world outside of us ceased to exist.

When we finally pulled apart, my pulse was a frantic drum against my ribs. Jake didn't move away, his forehead still so close to mine that I could feel his breath—warm, steady, grounding.

But I wasn't grounded. I was spiraling. Because this wasn't supposed to happen. I wasn't supposed to feel this way. I wasn't supposed to want more.

Before I could untangle the mess of emotions crashing over me, Jake spoke again, his green eyes captivating in a way I had never seen before.

"I've been waiting for this," he said, his voice low, intimate. "But no more waiting, Emma. Whatever this is... I want it."

His words settled over me, peeling back every layer of doubt, every reason why I should have pulled away.

And maybe I should have. Maybe I would regret this.

But in that moment, the only thing I knew—the only thing that felt right—was to close the space between us.

So I did. I kissed him again, this time with certainty, with need.

And as we stood there, high above the city, a realization sank its claws into me, sharp and unforgiving.

I wasn't just falling for Jake.

I had already fallen. Hard.

And I didn't know if I would ever land.