Page 12

I knew the second I laid eyes on Kian O’Malley that he wasn’t like other men.

There was just something about him.

Too magnetic.

Too intense.

Too everything.

The kind of man you stare at from across a room and immediately decide nope . He’s not for me. And I had every intention of keeping it that way.

He’s too good looking. Too confident.

Built like he was carved from stone and chaos, with that permanent five o’clock shadow and those sharp eyes that seem to see way too much.

He’s not in my league.

Hell, he’s not even on the same planet as me.

And yet, somehow, I’m here.

In his cabin.

In his bed.

In the middle of the goddamn night.

We started like horny teenagers, groping, kissing, tugging clothes off with clumsy, fevered hands. I’m pretty sure I tore my shirt in the process, but I don’t care.

It’s not like I’ll be putting that Bob’s Bar uniform back on anytime soon.

Not after the way I quit.

The idea of flirting with anyone I was uncomfortable with, especially a customer who gave me the creeps, made me want to vomit. Add on pressure from my boss to do just that and hell no.

That was absolutely not okay.

Sure, it was risky. Quitting like that was not like me.

I mean, the weight of the world still lingers, though. All the bills I’m responsible for and taking care of Gramps. Not to mention this constant state I seem stuck in, treading water emotionally and financially.

It hovers just above me, threatening to crash through the roof and bury me in the rubble.

But I won’t let it.

Not yet.

Not tonight.

Because right now? I’m still riding the come-down from the best sex of my life—and I don’t say that lightly.

Hands down.

No contest.

I’m still a little breathless, muscles loose and trembling, body humming from the intensity of what just happened. And there’s this weird ache between my legs that I swear is part pleasure, part disbelief.

Also, he bit me.

I brush my fingers over the tender skin on my neck, and oddly enough, tingles of pleasure seem to spread through me from that spot.

Yeah. That is definitely weird.

And hot.

I don’t know what it was that made Kian do that. I mean, not exactly.

Instinct? A kink?

Whatever. Fact was, it made my toes curl, so I’m not asking questions.

Tomorrow, though?

Yeah. Tomorrow’s gonna hit hard.

The guilt.

The doubt.

The second-guessing.

I’ll probably spiral a little.

Overthink it all until I’m convinced I hallucinated the whole thing.

Because why would a man like him want a girl like me?

But right now, I don’t want to think.

Tonight, I just want to forget who I’ve been.

The tired, invisible version of myself who tiptoes through life trying not to take up too much space.

Tonight, I get to be wanted.

Claimed.

Touched like I’m precious.

Like I’m the fire instead of the ash.

And Kian— God, Kian —he just did everything right.

The man touched me like he couldn’t breathe without me.

Like my curves were a gift, not a flaw.

Like my softness made me powerful.

He looked at me like I was some kind of miracle.

Like I mattered.

It’s dangerously addictive, that feeling.

Like falling into a dream you never want to wake up from.

And I know it can’t last.

It’s too good.

Too intense. Too fast.

But for once in my life, I’m not going to talk myself out of a good thing.

I’m going to savor this moment.

His warmth beside me.

The way his breath evens out as he sleeps.

The ghost of his touch is still on my skin.

B ecause for the first time in forever, I don’t feel broken. I feel alive.

And for tonight, that’s more than enough.