Page 57 of Held-

He steps back, opening the door wider. “Come in, princess.”

I walk past him into the small living room, the reality of what I've done finally hitting me full force. My legs feel weak, and I set down my suitcase before I drop it.

“I burned my wedding photo,” I say, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. “In the fireplace. Right in front of him.”

Brayden's eyebrows shoot up. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah.” I laugh, but it comes out shaky. “I think I might have traumatized him.”

Brayden crosses the room in two strides and pulls me against his chest. The solid warmth of him steadies me, his heartbeat a grounding rhythm under my ear. His arms wrap around me, and I let myself collapse into his strength, just for a moment.

“You okay?”

“I don't know.” I pull back just enough to look up at him. “I've never done anything like that before.”

His hand comes up to cup my face, thumb brushing across my cheekbone. “Burning wedding photos? Or telling your old man to fuck off?”

“Both.” I lean into his touch. “All of it. Running away. Coming here.” I gesture to my suitcase. “Showing up on your doorstep like some cliché romance novel.”

“If this were a romance novel, it’d be raining,” he says, mouth curving in amusement. “And you’d be wearing something far more dramatic than…” His gaze drifts down my body, taking in my faded jeans and plain T-shirt. “Still, you pull it off.”

I laugh, and this time it feels more genuine. The knot in my chest loosens a fraction.

“So,” he says, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “You need a place to crash.”

It’s not a question, but I nod anyway. “Just until I figure things out. I can pay rent, or?—”

“Stop.” He presses his thumb gently against my lips. “You’re not paying me shit. This place is barely mine anyway. Besides, my aunt would kick my ass if I turned you away.”

“I don’t want to impose.” The words sound ridiculous even as they leave my mouth.

Brayden’s expression shifts, sharpening as he studies me. “You think I mind having you in my space? In my bed?” His hand moves to the back of my neck. “Trust me, princess, that’s the opposite of a problem.”

The way he’s looking at me makes my skin flush hot. Even after everything we’ve done together, the raw hunger in his stare still catches me off guard.

“I just—” I swallow hard. “I don't want you to feel trapped. Like you have to take care of me.”

He laughs, a low rumble that I feel more than hear. “Nobody's ever accused me of being a caretaker before.” His thumb traces my jawline. “But you're welcome to stay as long as you want.”

The casual way he offers his space should scare me. This is moving too fast, too intense. But I don't care. I need this—need him—right now, when everything else in my life feels like it's burning down around me.

I don't know what comes over me, but something inside me snaps. Whatever it is, I launch myself at him.

My hands grab his face, pulling him down to me as I crush my mouth against his. It's not gentle. It's not sweet. It's desperate and hungry and wild. I can tell I've caught him off guard by the way he stumbles back a step, but his arms wrap around me instantly, lifting me off my feet.

“Whoa,” he breathes against my lips, but I don't let him finish.

I wrap my legs around his waist, clinging to him like he's the only solid thing in a world and I’m spinning out of control.My fingers tangle in his hair, tugging harder than I mean to. He groans into my mouth, the sound vibrating through me.

“I need you,” I gasp between frantic kisses. “Right now.”

He doesn't question it. Doesn't try to slow me down or tell me I should take a breath. He just carries me to the kitchen counter, my body still wrapped around him, my mouth still devouring his. He sets me on the cold counter with a thud, his hands already working up the hem of my shirt. I press into him, desperate for the contact, for the distraction, for anything that will pull my mind away from what I’ve just done.

“You sure about this?” he asks, voice ragged as his mouth trails down my neck.

“Strip me, please. I need to feel your hands on my skin,” I pant, yanking at his belt.

His expression shifts. Without hesitation, he pulls my shirt over my head and tosses it aside. The sudden chill against my skin sends goosebumps racing across me.