Page 55 of King of Pain (Damaged Hearts #1)

I look up at him and sigh. “We need more tequila.”

Ant nods, then pats Little G on the head. “Yeah, we do.”

I grab both our glasses, then stand, gripping them in one hand and extending the other to him. “Come on, Beautiful. You can yell at me while I make drinks.”

Ant looks at my hand, then up to my face before finally taking it. As I pull him up, he stumbles forward, crashing into my chest. We’re suddenly pressed together, chest-to-chest, and I can feel his breath warm against my skin.

“Hi,” I say softly, focusing on the flecks of green in his eyes. My kryptonite.

I watch his throat work as he hesitates, then finally says, “Hey.”

Then he steps back quickly, shaking his head, and looks me straight in the eye. “It's not gonna be that easy, Sullivan. I'm not done yelling at you.”

I laugh, nodding toward the kitchen. “Come on then. Let me get some more tequila in me, and you can get started with all the yelling.”

We step into the kitchen, and I grab two shot glasses, filling them with tequila. Sliding one over to Ant, I smirk. “Bottoms up.”

His eyes flick down to my ass at the phrase, and I don’t miss it. “Okay, carry on with the yelling.”

Ant crosses his arms over his chest; those beautiful lips set in an unreadable line. “Your last text lives rent-free in my head. Do you know what that did to me? No explanation. Nothing. For all I knew, your mom died from any number of reasons, though I had my suspicions based on your reaction.”

I close my eyes and nod, guilt heavy in my gut.

“You could have at least told me something in that last text,” he presses.

I shake my head, raising my voice. “No. I couldn't, Ant. It was bad enough that you were even a contact in my phone.”

He scoffs, anger flickering like lightning through his eyes.

“You don't know the resources these organizations have, Ant. They might as well be FBI, CIA or any other agency in the alphabet mafia.”

His jaw drops slightly, and I continue, “They would not hesitate to use you to draw me out if they knew what you meant to me.”

Ant shifts uncomfortably, his gaze dropping to his shoes before snapping back up to me, and he yells with raw frustration. “You should have taken me with you! You could have kept me safe with you!”

The pain in his voice hits me like a right hook. I just stare at him, stunned.

Ant runs his hands through his hair, gripping tight. “I would have gone with you, Chance. I could have been there for you. Fuck, I would have even helped hide the body.”

My breath catches at his words, and I reach for him, but he pulls back. “No. You didn't give me a choice. You let me wonder and worry.”

I answer carefully. “I know. But I would do it again to keep you safe.”

A moment passes between us, thick with emotion.

I add a splash of orange juice to the drinks I had started and pour two more shots, sliding one to Ant.

He slams it back faster than I can pick mine up.

I give him a look, then down mine as well.

He pulls his mixed drink closer, spinning the glass on the counter before looking up and hitting me with a sentence that shatters my soul.

“I lost Ma too.”

The words rip through me. My voice is filled with gravel when I finally whisper, “I know you did. I'm so sorry, Beautiful.”

Ant studies the vein work in the marble counter, tracing them with his fingers. I step closer and quietly tell him, “She loved when you called her Ma, by the way.”

His head snaps up, surprise flickering across his face.

“She told me so herself,” I explain. “She loved you, Ant. More than you even knew.”

He just blinks at me for a moment. “I think I need to sit down.”

I pick up both our glasses. “Yeah, okay. Let's go back to the couch.”

We settle in, both of us sinking into the cushions. Ant narrows his eyes at me. “You still haven't explained yourself about your condo being right next to my office.”

I shrug. “Like I said. I need to know you're safe.”

He rolls his eyes, but I catch the slight twitch of his lips, and I swear he's holding back a smirk.

The tension between us eases a little as we drink and talk.

I tell him about my time at the cabin, about the goat I gave an Italian name in his honor that became my only company, about how fucking bored I was.

I tell him how much I missed his cooking, and he laughs, telling me it served me right.

I ask him about his job, and his face lights up as he tells me about his internship and working under Meg and becoming a full-fledged agent alongside her.

The way he talks about it—his passion, his drive—ignites me with pride.

Before long, he's fading—the sun set hours ago, and the alcohol’s making him blink slow and heavy. I can tell he's fighting it, but it's a losing battle.

“You're not driving anywhere,” I say firmly.

Ant grumbles, rubbing his eyes. “Fine. But I'm sleeping on the couch.” He points a finger at me, his voice slurring slightly. “Don't come out here in your underwear, either. I'm not that strong.”

I chuckle as I stand up and head to the hallway. “So come out here naked. Got it,” I say as I open the hall closet to grab a blanket and a pillow.

“You're mean,” he mutters, flopping onto his back on the couch.

I throw the blanket over him and lean down, tucking the pillow behind his head. My lips hover dangerously close to his, our breath dancing together in a frozen moment.

“No, I'm just hopelessly head over heels.”

Ant mock gasps, then rolls onto his side. “Keep saying stuff like that, and we'll see.”

I laugh, trying not to let that little seedling give me too much hope.

“Hey, you wouldn’t happen to have a phone charger, would you?” He asks.

I look down at his phone on the coffee table. “Yeah, my phone uses the same charger. I have one in the kitchen. It will be on the counter for you.”

Ant nods and I clip Little G’s leash on him. “I'm gonna take him out before bed, maybe run him around the block.”

Ant nods, mumbling, “Okay, thanks. Night, Chance.”

I watch as his breathing evens out, his body sinking into sleep. “Night, Ant. I—” My voice softens, and I change my choice of words when I realize he's already out cold. “Love you.”

I put his phone on my charger in the kitchen then get Little G down the elevator and take him out for a run, trying to clear my mind.

Thoughts of tonight are racing through my head.

Could this be a start to rekindling what we had before?

Will he be able to forgive me one day? Who has he let taste those lips?

When I get back, I grab a bottle of water from the fridge. Uncapping it, I take long swigs as I lean against the counter and watch Ant’s chest rise and fall in sleep.

Then his phone vibrates on the counter, lighting up the screen.

A text message.

Jason Ciccone: Hey cutie! Just confirming we're still on for dinner Thursday. 7pm at Thai Basil, right? Can't wait to lay eyes on you.

My grip tightens on the water bottle, squeezing it so hard it overflows.

My blood boils.

Oh, fuck no.