Page 8 of Let it Ignite (Playing with Fire #2)

Byron

The drive back is quiet.

Cassie’s curled up in the passenger seat, her knees pulled to her chest, arms wrapped tightly around them, staring out at the road like she can erase the past hour.

The silence between us is thick, humming with everything we’re not saying.

I can feel it pressing down on my chest, coiling in my gut like a storm that hasn’t fully broken.

She hasn’t cried.

Not yet.

But I’ve seen enough women cry to know when one’s close. I can see it in the way her jaw clenches, the way she keeps her mouth tight like she’s holding it all in with nothing but sheer will. She’s tough. Tougher than anyone ever gave her credit for. But even steel bends under enough pressure.

I grip the steering wheel harder, my knuckles going white. I should never have taken her there. Should’ve known what that bastard was planning. Should’ve known a casting director was shady. But I let her go in there. I let her walk in thinking it was about talent. About dreams.

And it wasn’t.

It was about what they could take from her.

My jaw aches from how hard I’m clenching it. The thought of his hands anywhere near her makes my blood go cold. If I’d walked in five minutes later—

I shake my head. I can’t think about that. Not now.

The road curves gently through the trees, the town lights still a ways off. The quiet stretches until I can’t take it anymore.

"I want you to chase your dreams, Cassie," I say, my voice rough, low, like gravel dragged across asphalt. She doesn’t move, doesn’t look at me, but I keep going.

"You deserve that. You’re talented, and brave, and.

.. fuck, you’re magic, Cass. But I won’t ever be sorry for wanting you safe. For wanting you to be mine."

Her head turns slowly, eyes meeting mine, and just like that, the air shifts.

Not soft.

Not sweet.

But charged.

Like she’s about to say something that’s going to change everything.

"I don’t think I want that world anymore," she whispers. "The one that wants to change me. That looks at me like I’m not enough until I take off more clothes or smile just right or starve myself into something prettier."

She swallows hard. "I thought I had to make myself smaller to make room for my dream. But maybe the dream was never worth it if I had to lose myself to get there."

I flick my gaze from the road to her, heart thundering. "What are you saying?"

Her lips press together for a beat, then she exhales shakily, like she’s been holding this inside too long.

"I’m saying I want to stay."

I blink. "Stay where?"

"With you."

The weight of her words slam into my chest, cracking me wide open.

She’s choosing me.

She’s choosing us .

"I’m not giving up," she adds quickly, like she needs to explain. "I’m choosing myself. And you. Because when I was in that room, scared and humiliated and so goddamn small—I didn’t think about the role or the dream or any of it. I thought about you."

My throat tightens.

"I thought about your hands on my waist when you’re helping me down from the counter.

The way you laugh under your breath when I burn the toast. The sound of you hammering nails into the wall like you’re fixing a damn kingdom for us.

The way you encourage me to go after what I want. That’s what felt real."

"Cass..."

She reaches over and grabs my hand, threading her fingers through mine like she’s anchoring both of us.

"I still love acting. I always will. But I don’t want to be in a world that punishes me for who I am. Not when there’s a man who looks at me like I’m already enough. More than enough."

My heart pounds so hard it feels like it might crack open. I grip her hand tighter and pull off the road, gravel crunching beneath the tires. I throw the truck in park and turn to her fully, my chest rising and falling with each uneven breath.

"Say it again," I murmur.

She blinks. "What?"

"That you want to stay. That you choose me."

Her gaze doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t waiver. "I choose you."

I’m on her in a second, unbuckling her seatbelt, pulling her into my lap. I need her closer, need her pressed against me to believe this is real. Her lips find mine, desperate and messy, all teeth and tongues and the softest sighs. It’s not lust.

It’s relief.

It’s love.

I cradle the back of her neck, pressing kisses along her jaw, her cheek, her temple.

"You wreck me, Cassie," I whisper. "Every damn day. You make me feel things I thought wouldn’t feel for anyone. You’re not the one who’s lucky. I am."

She laughs, the sound wet and shaky as she brushes her thumb over my cheek.

"I’m scared, Byron."

"Me too."

"What if I wake up one day and regret walking away from the audition?"

I cup her face in both hands, forcing her to look at me. "Then we’ll get in the truck, and we’ll drive to the next one. And the one after that. I’ll be with you every step of the way, Cassie. This isn’t about giving up. This is about doing it on your own terms."

She stares at me for a long moment before something in her melts. She leans forward, rests her forehead against mine, and breathes me in.

"I love you," she says, so soft I barely hear it.

But I feel it.

Every word sinking into my bones like it belongs there.

I press a kiss to her lips. "I love you too, baby. And I’m going to spend the rest of my life proving it."

She settles into my lap, her arms wrapped around my neck, her face tucked into the crook of my shoulder.

Just Cassie and me.

And the life we’re finally choosing—for real this time.

I stroke her hair gently, the scent of her shampoo grounding me like nothing else ever has. My chest rises and falls with the rhythm of her breathing, syncing with mine until we’re one steady pulse.

"When I was ten," I murmur into her hair, "my teacher asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I didn’t even blink—I said I wanted to be a fireman.

Not because I thought the truck was cool or because of the sirens.

But because I wanted to save people. I wanted to be the guy who showed up when everything was on fire and made it better.

I wanted to be the reason someone got to go home to their family that night. "

I pause, swallowing past the lump rising in my throat.

"And I guess somewhere along the way, I forgot that saving people isn’t just about dragging them out of burning buildings. It’s about standing by them when the world tries to burn them down from the inside. It’s about being the one person they know won’t ever walk away."

Cassie doesn’t say anything. She just watches me, her eyes glossy, her chest rising and falling like she’s trying to breathe through my words.

"I wanted to save people," I whisper, brushing my thumb along her jaw. "And now, I just want to be the man who makes you feel safe enough to save yourself."

She lets out a tiny sound—half laugh, half sob—and presses her forehead against mine, like that’s the only way to keep herself from falling apart completely.

“I love you so much, Cassie.”

“I love you too, Byron.”

She kisses me again, softer this time, reverent. And when she leans back, she smiles. Really smiles. The first real one since before the audition.

"Then let’s go home, Byron. Let’s figure this out. Together."

My throat tightens, and I clear it before turning the engine back on.

"Yeah, baby. Let’s go home."