Page 20

CHAPTER 20

KAI

I wake slowly, my body sore in the best way. That perfect, lingering exhaustion that only comes after a night well spent. Muscles loose. Mind foggy in the best possible way. The sheets are warm, the scent of her still clinging to them—faint, but unmistakable.

My hand instinctively reaches out, fingers brushing over the sheets. Expecting warmth. Expecting her.

But there’s nothing. Just cool, empty space.

I frown, my body shifting, my mind catching up too slowly. My eyes blink open, adjusting to the dim morning light filtering through the curtains. The weight of the night before still lingers, a heady mix of memory and sensation. My muscles ache in the best way, a reminder of how thoroughly I had her beneath me, around me. The way she gave as good as she got. The way she wrecked me just as much as I wrecked her.

I turn onto my back, my gaze drifting toward the other side of the bed.

No Trouble.

No trace of her at all.

For a second—a stupid, fleeting second—I wonder if I just dreamed the whole damn thing.

But then I see it.

A faint, barely-there lipstick mark on the pillow beside me. Smudged. Subtle.

The only trace of her left behind.

I stare at it. My fingers reach out, brushing over the soft imprint, like I could somehow hold onto it. Like it’ll tell me something she didn’t.

Like it’ll fill the silence she left behind.

My lips curl into a smirk. But it’s not the usual kind. Not the cocky, self-satisfied grin I usually wear after a one-night stand. This one is…different.

This isn’t new.

I’ve had plenty of women sneak out before. Some left notes. Some texted later. Some expected more. Some wanted nothing at all…although they usually follow up for a second or third round somewhere down the line.

But Trouble? She left nothing but a kiss stain.

And a silence that feels too fucking loud.

I drag a hand down my face, exhaling slowly, staring up at the ceiling. I tell myself it’s fine. That this is how it’s supposed to go. No expectations. No attachments. No strings.

That’s how I live.

That’s how I like it.

And yet I can’t shake the feeling that she’s already under my skin.

That she’s not just another girl who walked away.

That if I had woken up just a little earlier…

I might have asked her to stay.

And that thought? It unsettles me more than I’d like to admit.