Page 127 of Hymns of the Broken

“Stop,” I laugh, blushing so hard my ears burn. “I’m pretty sure my soul left my body. I don’t even remember half of it.”

She grinslike a demon, waving the spoon. “Oh, you will. That kind of thing rewires your brain, babe. You’ll be making accidental sex noises at brunch for weeks.”

I bury my face in her shoulder. “Please, please tell me you’re going to make this less mortifying?”

She hugs me, softening for just a second. “Absolutely not. I’m living for this drama. Also, I need to know… was it as hot as all those books you made me read?”

I groan again, thinking of all the smut I made her read.

But when I finally look up, I’m grinning. And Macee? She raises her spoon in salute.

She grins, handing me the tub of ice cream. “I’d say Godspeed… but I don’t think evenHecould help you now.”

Chapter 21

RIOT

The second the door clicks shut behind her, the garage goes silent.

My pulse is still hammering. Jasper’s hands are white-knuckled on the workbench, veins straining like he’s a second away from wrecking me—or himself.

I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, savoring the taste still clinging to my tongue, and let a crooked, shit-eating grin curl my lips.

“She tastes like heaven,” I murmur, low and taunting—because I can’t help myself. “No wonder you’re obsessed.”

His head lifts. Jaw tight. He doesn’t bite back—not out loud.

But his eyes? Molten.

“I should break your jaw for touching her,” Jasper growls, voice like gravel dragged across steel. “But I didn’t stop you. Because I needed to see it.”

I arch a brow, swagger closer, arms folded across my chest. “See what? If I could make her fall apart in front of you?”

His nostrils flare, but he shakes his head. “No. If you want her—or if you’re just here to fuck with me.”

That digs under my skin enough to drop the smirk. I meet him head-on. “You think I’d eat her out next to you just for the fuck of it?”

He scowls. “You’ve done worse, Riot.”

air.

But not this time.

“Not her,” I say, heat draining to truth. “Sawyer’s different. You know it. I know it. So quit acting like you’re the only one losing sleep over her.”

Jasper stares at the closed door, her cries still echoing in the air like smoke after a fire. He’s replaying it—her on that bike, mouth open, body shaking for both of us. I almost pity him. Almost.

“She’s not a toy to pass between us,” he says, rough.

“Agreed.” My answer’s immediate. “She won’t survive it if we fuck this up.”

He drags in a breath—long, shaky, scraped from somewhere deep.

“She’s ours now.”

And, fuck, if that doesn’t hit different. The way he says ours—not his. Not mine. Ours.

Something shifts inside me. Not surrender. Not peace. But maybe… understanding. A rivalry with teeth, sure, but a shared obsession all the same.