Trapped, Tempted, and Totally Unexpected

Lena hadn’t planned on getting trapped in an elevator that evening. But as fate would have it, she found herself in just such a predicament.

She glanced at her watch for the third time in less than a minute. Late again. She sighed and quickened her pace through the elegant hotel corridor, the air filled with the scent of fresh lilies and polished wood. These were the unmistakable fragrances of weddings—champagne toasts, feet aching from high heels, and speeches that left eyes teary.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, and Lena stepped in without hesitation. Just as they began closing, a fast-moving blur caught the edge.

It was a man.

Broad shoulders, sharp suit, effortlessly composed—until he bumped into her, almost sending her suitcase sprawling.

“Sorry—” he began with a breathless but amused tone, smoothing an invisible wrinkle on his sleeve.

Lena barely glanced up. “No worries.”

Then—everything stopped.

A jolt. A flicker. Silence.

The elevator was dead.

Lena’s stomach twisted as she frantically punched the buttons. Nothing.

She exhaled sharply, pressing her palm against the cold metal doors, as though sheer willpower could open them. Beside her, the stranger let out a low, almost amused sigh.

“Classic,” he muttered. “Always when you’re in a rush.”

Lena then turned to him, fully taking him in for the first time. Sharp blue eyes. Messy blond hair. A smirk that seemed straight out of a rom-com.

She should have been annoyed. Instead, she found herself asking, “Got somewhere important to be?”

“Wedding. Tomorrow,” he replied, slipping his hands into his pockets as if they weren’t trapped. “Best friend’s big day. Need an urgent date.”

She blinked in surprise. “Wait. What?”

His grin widened. “I need a plus-one. A pretend one. Just for the night.”

Before she could fully process the absurdity of it, the intercom crackled to life.

“Uh, folks? We’ve got a small power outage. We’re on it. Might take a bit.”

Lena groaned. “Perfect.”

The stranger—Dylan—tilted his head, eyeing her. “So, up for a second wedding this week?”

She snorted. “You’re asking me while we’re stuck in an elevator?”

Dylan leaned back, unfazed. “So… is that a yes?”

A Fake Date Becomes Something Else

Lena had no plans to agree initially.

Yet there she was. Wearing a dress she hadn’t planned to don, standing beside a man she barely knew, acting as the perfect date.

Dylan was smooth. Effortlessly charming. His hand rested lightly on her back as he introduced her to guests, providing a steady, reassuring presence.

At one moment, he leaned closer, voice a warm whisper against her ear. “That woman in blue keeps checking if we’re engaged.”

Lena smirked. “Should I pretend I have a ring?”

“Tempting. But then I’d have to pretend to propose,” Dylan mused.

Then, the dance happened.

His fingers laced with hers, guiding her across the floor as if they’d done this countless times before. The warmth of his palm on her waist sent an unexpected thrill through her.

This was supposed to be an act. Just an act.

But the way he looked at her—like she was the only one in the room—made it hard to remember.

Then Maya entered.

Maya.

Tall, poised, possessing a kind of beauty that makes others second-guess themselves.

Lena knew without introduction. This was the ex.

And when Maya embraced Dylan, something inside Lena twisted more than she thought it would.

This wasn’t real.

Yet, it surely felt like it was.

The Goodbye That Didn’t Stick

Lena packed before the sun had fully soared.

No complications. No mess. A clean exit.

She had convinced herself it was for the best—until she turned a hotel corner too fast and collided with Dylan.

Hot coffee nearly spilled as he steadied himself, blinking down at her.

“Lena?”

She muttered a curse. Of course.

“You were just…” Dylan trailed off, with his sharp gaze locking onto hers. “Leaving?”

Lena swallowed hard. “It was supposed to be one night, right?”

He was silent for a moment, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah. That’s what I thought, too.” A breath. A pause. Then, he moved closer.

“Until I realized I didn’t want it to end.”

Her heart skipped. “What?”

Dylan exhaled, voice gentler now, sincere. “Last night, you walked away, and all I could think was how I didn’t want you to go.”

Lena wanted to believe him. But doubt lingered. “What if this is just—”

“It’s not,” Dylan interrupted, sensing her hesitation. “You feel it, too. Don’t you?”

And, truth be told—she did.

So, for once, she stopped overthinking.

She moved forward, reached up—and kissed him.

A kiss that was warm. Unquestionable.

Dylan smiled against her lips. “Does this mean you’ll stay?”

Lena laughed softly, fingers curling into his jacket. “Maybe. But only if you promise not to get us stuck in elevators again.”

Dylan chuckled, wrapping an arm around her waist. “No guarantees.”

And with that—Lena let herself fall.