Ethan couldn't believe himself.
He'd followed this man, this stranger who'd been stalking him for days, to a hotel room. Like some foolish character in a movie who ignores every red flag and walks straight into danger because they can't think straight.
Except Ethan wasn't in danger, at least not the kind that involved physical harm, the danger here was entirely different, entirely his own making, and he'd walked into it with his eyes wide open.
They stood in the hotel room, the door clicking shut behind them with a finality that made Ethan's heart race, the space was small and impersonal, the kind of room designed for exactly what they were about to do.
A bed dominated the center, generic artwork hung on the walls, and everything smelled faintly of cleaning products and air freshener.
Ethan opened his mouth to say something, to ask what they were doing here or demand an actual explanation about the stalking, but before he could get a word out, the man moved.
