Page 42 of No Mistakes

“You were,” I whisper before I could stop myself.

I see the moment flicker across his face… regret, maybe. Pain. But it’s gone instantly, buried under the heat and hunger.

“I still am,” he breathes.

I shake my head. “No-”

But he moves closer, pressing my back until the sink digs into my spine. His body cages me in. Tall, broad and relentless. I can feel the heat of him, the way his chest rises and falls like he’s holding back the worst of his sins.

“You think I haven’t dreamed about you?” He growls. "That I haven’t woken up with your name on my lips and my cocksofucking hard it hurt?”

“Axel…”

His name falls from my lips like it always does… wrecked and wanting.

His hand moves to my hip, fingers gripping tight like he’s afraid I’ll disappear again.

“You ruined me,” he whispers. “That day I met you outside of the gym… You fucking broke me. And I’d let you do it again.”

I feel his mouth brush against mine, just enough to take my breath but not enough to steal my control.

“Tell me to stop,” he says. “Say the words, Eva, and I’ll walk out that door and never touch you again.”

My mouth opens, but nothing comes out, because I don’t want him to stop. I want to remember what it felt like to be wanted like that. To be needed. To be his.

“You can’t do this,” I say instead, the words barely audible.

“Why not?” His voice is hoarse. “Because I hurt you? Because I didn’t protect you when I should have?”

Tears burn my eyes as images of me in the hospital flood my mind.

“Because I loved you,” I snap. “And you fuckingdestroyedme.”

He exhales sharply, like I punched him right where it hurt. I try to move, but he stops me with a hand on my waist, his touch suddenly gentle.

“I never stopped loving you,” he says, barely a whisper. “I just didn’t know how to hold onto you, without breaking you.”

Silence stretches between us, neither of us knowing what to say next. I should walk away. I should scream, slap him. I should do something.

But instead, his mouth meets mine, and I don’t stop him.

It’s not like the kiss we once shared, it’s a war. All teeth and tongues as our anger unleashes on each other. He drinks from me like he’s dying of thirst, and I’m the only thing that can save him.

His hands roam my waist, making their way up to my jaw. I lean into his touch, and he moans gently from my movement.

I shove him back, his moan bringing me back to reality.

“We can’t,” I choke. “Not here. Not like this.”

He nods, but his eyes stay on me, lit by fire. He takes a step back, dragging a hand through his hair.

“Gunnar was right,” he tells me, “I wouldneverlie about who my heart beats for. Not when it comes to you.”

He moves towards the door, unlocking it before pausing. “I’ll wait for now,” he adds, not looking back. “But you need to know, your body might lie to me, Buttercup. But your eyes never do.”

The door clicks shut behind him, but the tension he left clings to my skin like steam. I press my palms to the edge of the sink, eyes locked on my reflection like I might find some answers there. But all I see is a flush creeping up my neck and the wild, slightly dazed look of a woman who just had her past, and everysinful memory tied to it… dragged up in a whisper against her throat.

He remembered every… little… detail.