Page 103 of Hymns of the Broken

I gesture toward the den just off the hallway, shadows pooling in the corners. She hesitates, just a breath, then slips past me—her shoulder brushing my chest, sending sparks skittering through my whole body.

The second the door clicks shut behind us, it’s just us. The silence is loaded, every heartbeat magnified.

I don’tcrowd her, and neither of us says anything. I let the silence stretch, watching her fingers grip her oversized shirt, the way her chest rises and falls—nervous.

“You okay?” I ask.

She nods, but I see her swallow. “You?”

A half-smirk tugs at my mouth. “Got pulled into a brotherly warning session. Apparently, I’m not allowed to break your heart.”

Her brow furrows, eyes wide. “Jasper talked to you?”

“Like a dad whose daughter just started dating the guy with a rap sheet and a Harley.”

Her mouth drops open, then quirks at the edges. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” I take a step closer to her. “He’s not wrong to be protective. You matter to him.” I pause, letting the words hang. “To me.”

That does something to her—a crack, a flicker in her eyes like something fragile just gave way. She looks down, but I reach out, fingers gentle as I guide her chin up, thumb brushing the corner of her jaw.

“I’m not trying to be a problem,” I murmur. “But I will not disappear just because someone else got there first. Not unless you want me to.”

“I don’t want you to disappear,” she whispers, barely more than a breath.

I lean in, press a kiss to her cheek, her jaw, then the soft skin behind her ear—the spot that makes her shiver, even now. But I don’t push more than that.

I give her just enough to have her thinking of me later.

When I pull back, her eyes are closed, like she’s holding onto the feeling, the moment, the space between us that no one else gets.

I press one more kiss to her temple. “Goodnight, Hellcat.”

I leave before I change my mind, every nerve in my body still singing with everything I haven’t said.

SAWYER

By the time I close my door, I’m not even sure which one of them I’m thinking about.

Riot’s hands. Jasper’s words. They both look at me like I’m something worth wanting. Worth keeping. The ache in my chest feels like it’s alive, curling up against my ribs, filling every space with questions I don’t know how to answer.

I don’t know how to hold it all.

I take my time changing—peeling off my jeans, reaching for one of Jasper’s shirts I swiped from the laundry. Half because it’s soft, and half because it still smells like him. Warm, faintly spicy, and a bit like smoke. It doesn’t help the confusion, but it eases the ache. Just a little.

I climb into bed with one of my paperbacks—the one I’ve been half-embarrassed to read in front of anyone. Dark romance. Masked man. Dangerous, twisted devotion. I lose myself in it for a while, letting the tension curl low in my stomach.

I’m brushing my teeth when I hear a soft knock. Gentle at first, then again, a little firmer. I pause, toothbrush still wedged between my lips, my heart stuttering.

I crack the door open.

Jasper is standing there, barefoot, hair a mess like he’s been running his hands through it all night. He looks more vulnerable than I’ve ever seen him.

He leans one shoulder on the doorframe. “Didn’t mean to bug you. Just… wanted to say goodnight. And that my room’s open. If you want company.”

He doesn’t sound expectant. Just warm and slightly protective.

I shake my head, rinse quickly, wiping my mouth on the back of my hand. “Thank you. I just… I think I need to be alone tonight. Clear my head.”