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The air crackles with tension, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on us. He swallows, his resolve crumbling just enough for me to see the vulnerability underneath.

“Kiss me,” I say. “Do what I wasn’t brave enough to do last night.”

Before he can argue, I grab his face, my thumb grazing the sharp line of his jaw as I press my lips to his. For a second, his body is rigid, but then he melts into me, his hands clutching my shirt and pulling me closer. His lips are soft, yielding, and every inch of me aches for more.

“You were drunk last night,” I murmur against his mouth, my voice low. “But now? Now you’re mine.”

His eyes flutter open, and I can see the war raging behind them. His hands drop, letting me go like I burn. “We shouldn’t,” he whispers, stepping back. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

I eye his trembling hands, his flushed face, the way he avoids my gaze. “We shouldn’t?” I ask.

“I’m serious, Rowan,” he says, face flushed. “I don’t know what to think. We can’t pretend everything that has happened between us didn’t.”

As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right. We stand at opposite ends, and I can’t ask him to give up everything he’s worked so hard for. He can’t trust me, and I can’t trust him either. Not fully, anyway. Not when we’re still who we are.

“That’s not all it is, is it?” I ask, watching him carefully.

He releases a shaky breath and meets my eyes.

My chest threatens to cave in on itself. “I’m sorry I hurt you, Alex. I’m sorry for every fucked-up word I’ve said.”

His lips spread into a thin smile. “I’m sorry too. For everything.”

It’s clear that any trust between us is fragile and it will take a while to rebuild. I can’t fuck with that, no matter how badly I want him.

And I may not care that he works for the OCU, but he cares that I might one day be The Head of The Snake.

But he doesn’t move away or freak out and that has to be enough for now. For the first time in weeks, my head is clear. I know exactly what I want. I want The Snake, but I want him too and Ialwaysget what I want.

Chapter Fourteen: Alex

Ican’t sleep. I stare at the ceiling, Rowan’s words playing over and over again in my head: he knew all along and he loved me. None of it makes sense. I never thought for a second that it was possible, that he could possibly feel something. Worse, a part of me wants to believe him, really wants to believe he could be telling the truth.

I cover my head with my pillow, muffling my scream. But before I know it, the sun is creeping up the horizon and filling my room, painting it a watery silver. I look at my watch, my eyes heavy with all the missed sleep.

06:00.

I sigh quietly. There’s no point in me hanging out in bed and letting Rowan Vasilyev’s face and words torture me. I shuffle out of bed and head for the shower.

It’s seven thirty when I make it to the OCU building and a few people are already seated at their desks, steaming mugs of coffee in hand. I murmur a few good mornings, making pointless conversation with some of them before making my way to my own desk.

I get started on catching up with all my neglected cases, sifting through any collected evidence which I know I’m way behind on. Kane and the rest of the team have made good progress without me, but I know a few of them will start questions if I don’t get my shit together soon.

“Hey,” Kane says as he flops into his chair at nine and slides me a wrapped pain aux raisins. “Because I know you haven’t had anything to eat yet.”

“You’re amazing,” I say, smelling the buttery goodness of the pastry and taking a quick bite. “But doesn’t Tanya have you on a diet during the week?” I ask when I swallow down the first bite.

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” he says with a wink.

I shake my head, but I’m enjoying the pastry too much to care about his cholesterol. After a few minutes, he turns back to me, leaning back in his chair. “So, anything new on the Haze situation?”

My mood darkens in an instant. “Nothing yet,” I say honestly.

“What about Rowan? Has he reached out?”

I don’t think he wants to know that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him for the last two weeks, that I haven’t slept or that we’ve kissed, and my body has been begging for him in a way that is so familiar it’s disconcerting.

I shake my head. “Nope, nothing there either.”