The man behind the door

Jamie’s POV

The night smelled like champagne, camera flashes, and exhaustion.

I stood in the corner of the grand hall, hidden behind a velvet rope, watching Aiden Vale move across the red carpet like he was born to be in the spotlight. Hollywood’s golden boy, America’s sweetheart, the man who could make an entire theater fall in love with a single smile.

God, he looked perfect.

The tailored black suit hugged his broad shoulders and tapered along his lean waist, the faint glow of the silk lapel catching the light each time he turned his head. His dark hair was slicked back just enough to look intentional, not stiff. And his face… I’d memorized it a thousand times in the dark, but tonight it belonged to the world.

And yet, while he posed for the cameras and fans screamed his name, I knew the truth. That perfect jawline had just been under my fingers. Those lips that smiled for the world had whispered my name like a prayer.

I adjusted the strap of the sleek leather bag on my shoulder, feeling the familiar weight of his iPad and backup phone inside. To anyone else, I was just his assistant, but Aiden’s glances told a different story.

Every few minutes, he would look at me, never long enough for anyone else to notice. But I saw it. The spark in his eyes that said he wanted nothing more than to leave this circus behind and lock the door with me on the other side. My chest tightened with something that felt like longing and pride.

I wanted him. God, I always wanted him. But tonight, after weeks of late‑night shoots and endless press tours, that want was a raw ache in my bones.

And I knew he wanted me too.

That alone sent a quiet thrill through me, enough to make standing here in the dark worthwhile.

The red carpet felt endless. Flashlights, handshakes, endless requests for interviews or pictures. My job was to follow seamlessly, to attend to his needs before he even says them. I handed him water when his throat was dry, collected gifts and pens from fans, and stayed one step behind like a shadow no one would notice.

But shadows sees every thing.

At one point, as Aiden posed with a director, my gaze swept through the crowd. Beyond the screaming fans and paparazzi, one man didn’t hold up his phone like the rest. He didn’t cheer. He didn’t blink. He just stood at the barricade, a camera with a long lens hanging at his side, his eyes were fixed on me.

Our eyes met for a second before he looked away.

I simply told myself that I imagined it, that he was just another photographer, but I had this gut feeling coiled in my gut that it was different.

When the premiere ended and Aiden signed the last poster, he flashed a charming smile for the camera before getting into the back of the SUV. His thigh gently brushed mine as I followed him in, dangerous enough to send heat curling through my stomach.

He didn’t speak, and neither did I. At this point, words weren’t necessary and for the first time that night, it was just us.

Aiden let out a sharp exhale, leaning back against the leather. “God, I thought that would never end.”

I smirked softly. “You looked like you were enjoying it.”

He cracked one eye open to glance at me, his lips curving into a smirk. “I did. Especially when you were trying not to look jealous.”

I rolled my eyes, heat blooming in my chest. “Jealous of what? Of the entire universe wanting a piece of you?”

“Maybe,” he teased, his voice low. “Or maybe you just want to be the only one who gets me.”

I didn’t answer, because the truth was written all over my face.

The SUV rolled through downtown, and for a moment, I thought I saw it again, something glinting from a side street, the faint gleam of a camera lens pointed our way. By the time I turned to get a closer look, it was gone.

When we pulled up to the hotel, the chaos returned.

The entrance swarmed with paparazzi, lights exploding as his driver parked. I lowered my head instinctively, the way I’d been trained to, as his security cleared a path.

It took nearly fifteen minutes before the crowd died down and his head of security signaled that it was safe. Then Aiden’s hand brush my sleeve, subtle but urgent, as he muttered under his breath, “Come on.”

We slipped through the side entrance, moving through the quiet corridors until the elevator doors slid shut.

The moment the suite door clicked shut behind us, Aiden exhaled sharply. His shoulders slumped, the charming smile evaporated like mist. He turned to me, his eyes filled with a hunger I haven't seen in weeks.

“Jamie…”he breathed, like my name was all he needed.

I moved across the room in three quick steps, without waiting, grabbed his tie, and pulled him forward. His chest collided with mine, and I pressed him against the wall, the soft thud of his back hitting the panel sent a jolt through both of us.

“You’ve been staring at me all night,” I murmured against his jaw. “Acting like you don't want this.”

He shivered under my touch, his fingers curling into my jacket. “I couldn’t..The cameras—”

“They don’t matter here,” I cut him off, brushing my lips over his ear. “Here, you’re mine.”

He let out a desperate sound, and that was all I needed. I kissed him hard, claiming what I’d been denied for too long. He melted into my arms, holding on to me like I was the only thing keeping him afloat.

“God, I missed this,” he whispered against my mouth.

“Missed me,” I corrected softly, my thumb brushing the sharp edge of his jaw. “Say it.”

His eyes fluttered closed, he blushed faintly. ".…I missed you, Jamie.”

“That's what I want to hear.” I trailed kisses down his neck, every scrape of my teeth reminding him, that he belonged to me.

The kiss that followed later on was slower, heavier and more intense. After weeks of being apart, the longing poured into every slide of tongue, every scrape of teeth. His fingers moved through my hair, tugging just enough to make me growl softly against his mouth.

I walked him backward towards the bed, savoring the little gasps and stuttered breaths he gave me. When his knees hit the edge of the bed, I pushed him down gently, leaning over him, while pinning him in place.

“You’re beautiful,” I murmured, as I watched his chest rise faster. “And you’re mine.”

His reached for me, as his fingertips brushed my cheek. “I hate how much I need you.”

I smirked, letting the weight of my body press into his enough to remind him who was in control. “I know, cause I want you too. He kissed me again, softer this time, with his forehead pressed to mine.

His hands held my face like I was the only real thing he’d felt in a long time. “I hate that it’s like this. That I can’t hold your hand in public.”

The world outside didn’t exist for a long time. It was just the heat of our mouths, the soft dragging of hands along the sheets, the quiet gasps in between.

It wasn't just lust, it was a burn that has been denied for too long. I was the man who could bring him to his knees without a single word, and in this quiet moment, he wasn't just a star and I wasn't just his assistant.

The city lights spilled in through the tall windows, He laid beside me, wrapped in my arms, our fingers intertwined together, his lips swollen from my kisses, his eyes heavy with something that always made my chest tight.

At some point, as dawn crept closer, a flicker of light cut across the room. It wasn't the city glow, nor the gentle hum of the morning.

It was a flash.

And somewhere below in the street, someone had taken a picture, a blurred silhouette of two men together in a hotel suite.

And that's when I realized, someone knows.

But who?