SAM POV 
"He looked for me? Why?" I blurted out, my voice filled with a mixture of disbelief and confusion. The disclosure sent a shock of surprise through me, causing me to question everything I thought I knew about him.
He looked at me, his eyes holding a touch of sadness. "D-Do you remember me?" I stuttered, needing confirmation, needing to understand why he would go to such lengths to find me.
A flicker of recognition crossed his face, and for a moment, I saw a glimpse of vulnerability in his eyes. "Yes," he replied softly, his voice tinged with a mix of longing and regret. "I remember you."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. It was impossible, right? Everything I had read in books and heard from friends had led me to believe that men didn't remember the women they had been with in bed. It was a casual encounter, a brief moment of passion that was quickly forgotten.
But here he was, standing before me, recalling me. It defied all logic, all the tales I had been told. I couldn't help but wonder why. Why did he remember me? What was it about that night that had left such a lasting impression on his memory?
It's just a one-night stand, isn't it? Why does he need to remember that mistake? Is that the reason why he's here? Oh no, that would be freaking shit!
As I looked into his eyes for answers, I saw a blend of emotions swirling within them. Regret, longing, and something else, something I couldn't quite understand. It was as if he held a secret, a concealed truth that he was reluctant to disclose.
"I remember you," he repeated, his voice barely audible. "And I've been looking for you ever since."
My heart skipped a beat at his words, a mix of hope and worry washing over me. Searching for me? Why? What had pushed him to pursue this mission to find me? Questions flooded my mind, each one more pressing than the last.
He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently touch my cheek. His touch sent a shiver down my spine, awakening a dormant desire within me. "I remember how you made me feel," he confessed, his voice filled with a raw honesty that touched my heart.
"Why would I let myself forget the woman who made my night amazing?" he said, his words making my cheeks flush. His open admiration surprised me, leaving me briefly speechless.
"You're so sexy and irresistibly hot," he continued, his voice low and husky. "That night with you was unforgettable. Your voice... it's like music to my ears. And your moans..." He stopped, a playful sparkle in his eyes.
I interrupted him before he could say anything else, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. "Stop!" I exclaimed, unable to handle the intensity of his gaze.
He chuckled, the sound rich and deep. "What's wrong? Don't you want to relive that night?" he teased, his tone playful.
"Tristan!" I snapped, my frustration bubbling to the surface. "Stop it."
But he seemed unfazed by my outburst, his grin widening. "Ahhh, it's nice to hear you saying my name," he remarked, his tone teasing.
"Tristan, please," I begged, my patience waning. I could feel the eyes of our neighbors on us, their curiosity sparked by our intense conversation.
"Fine, fine, I'll stop," he conceded, though his smirk hinted otherwise. "But just one last question... Was I good? Did you like it too?"
I felt a surge of annoyance growing inside me, fueled by his continuous teasing. "I said stop!" I exclaimed, my voice ringing out in the quiet street. "Enough, Tristan!
He raised his hands in fake surrender, though the twinkle in his eyes suggested he wasn't sorry at all. "Okay, okay," he agreed, though the hint of a smile played at the corner of his lips. "But you can't blame a guy for wanting to know if he left a lasting impression."
I clenched my fists at my sides, my annoyance rising to the surface. "Yes, I can," I retorted, my tone tinged with frustration. "Especially when those questions cross the line of decency."
Tristan's grin widened, unfazed by my criticism. "Come on, relax," he urged, moving closer. "You know you secretly like the attention."
I shook my head in frustration, the last traces of embarrassment turning into irritation. "You're unbelievable," I scoffed, amazed at his boldness. "Enjoy the attention? More like tolerate it," I replied, refusing to let his charm affect me.
But Tristan was persistent in his pursuit, his charm evident despite my annoyance. "Ah, but you can't deny there's a connection between us," he persisted, his voice smooth as silk.
I rolled my eyes, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me flustered. "A spark? More like a wildfire," I muttered under my breath, though a small part of me couldn't deny the truth in his words.
Tristan chuckled, the sound warm and inviting. "That's the spirit," he teased, reaching out to ruffle my hair playfully.
I pushed his hand away, my annoyance reaching its peak. "Don't touch me," I snapped, stepping back to create space between us.
 "Okay, okay, I'll behave," he assured, though the glint in his eyes hinted otherwise.
I narrowed my eyes at him, refusing to be persuaded by his charm. "You should," I cautioned, though a small part of me couldn't help but find his behavior amusing.
Tristan gave me a smile, his charisma evident despite my annoyance. "That's why you like me," he teased, moving closer.