Page 51

I froze, every muscle locking up. Part of me screamed to run back down the stairs, but I wasn’t a total idiot.

That would trap me. I swallowed hard, forcing myself to breathe.

Come on, Sanjana. You’ve got this. I took another step, then another, edging upward, my grip tightening.

The basement door opened straight into the kitchen, and to the right was the entrance to the garage.

If I could make it without being seen, I could slip out through there.

Roxxi’s motorcycle was inside, and the keys were probably still in it.

Theoretically, I could take it and go. Realistically, I’d wind up as a Sanjana-shaped skid mark two blocks over.

I had no business trying to ride a motorcycle.

I would be better off running, praying my Huntsman wasn’t as fast as I was.

I reached the doorway at the top of the steps, and when I didn’t see anyone, I wasted no time. I hurried toward the garage.

“What are you doing?”

I spun so fast my hair whipped across my face, a scream tearing out of me before I could stop it, loud enough to set the neighbor’s dog into a frenzy.

My Hydrobottle sailed through the air, hitting the floor with a metallic crash.

A palm clamped over my mouth, and I was propelled backward into the wall.

“Sassy.”

His voice overpowered all my fear. Relief hit me like a flood. My whole body sagged against him, knees untrustworthy, breath gone.

“It’s me,” he soothed, steady and calm, brushing my hair out of the way. “Just me.”

I nodded quickly, my heart still sprinting. He slowly let his hand fall from my mouth, but the other arm didn’t move. He kept me pinned, like he wasn’t willing to risk me slipping away now that he had me.

“What the fuck are you doing in my house?” I hissed, fear morphing into anger.

“Ari said you were home doing schoolwork, and I needed to check on you.”

“So you break in?” I snapped, shoving at his chest, and growing more annoyed when he didn’t budge.

An infuriating smirk curled his lips, completely unrepentant. “Didn’t break in. I have a key. Remember?”

Of course, I remembered. That was beside the point. I shut my eyes for a beat, trying to get a grip. My pulse was still hammering, adrenaline fizzing just beneath my skin. His fingers brushed my cheek, featherlight, moving aside more of my hair.

“With the way you froze just now? If I had broken in, if I wasn’t me, you’d be fucked, Sassy.”

The words sent a shiver straight down my spine because he was right. I swallowed hard and forced my eyes up to meet his. “Good thing it was just you then,” I rasped. “Even though you scared the hell out of me. Again .”

He grinned. “Maybe I like you scared,” he murmured, voice dipping to something low and lethal. “I’ve never heard you scream like that before.”

“Because that’s a totally normal thing to say,” I quipped dryly.

“Normal is overrated.”

My tongue flicked out to wet my lips. His eyes tracked it like a predator catching movement.

His teasing glint vanished. What replaced it was darker and far less performative.

I noticed then that his hair was still damp from a recent shower.

The familiar cedar-and-spice scent clung to him, filling my lungs with every breath I tried, and failed, to steady.

He was so close we were practically pressed together, his body heat lapping at mine, coaxing a response I fought to have the willpower to ignore.

It wasn’t fear sparking beneath my skin anymore.

I didn’t want to move.

But I had to.

I pressed my hand to his chest and slid past him, heart thudding like a drumline.

My fingers brushed the edge of his varsity jacket, and even that fleeting contact was enough to leave sparks trailing in its wake.

I bent to grab my now dented Hydrobottle off the floor, palms slick against the cold metal.

“Do you wanna tell me what happened last night?” I asked, hoping the question might shift the energy. Or at least distract me long enough to pull my thoughts out of the gutter.

“Aside from Deadweight running his mouth and disrespecting you?” His tone was cold but controlled. “I let him talk long enough to show everyone exactly what he was.”

“Meaning?” I turned the sink on, the rush of water masking the erratic rhythm of my pulse as I rinsed my bottle.

“He’s jealous. Desperate. Still clinging to something that was never his. He thought saying he had you first would shake me.”

“He said what?” I turned my head and looked at him. Surely, I’d misheard.

“He claimed he had you first. I think he forgot you’ve always been mine. So I told him the truth.”

“The truth?”

“I let him know that when you finally end up in my bed, you’ll find out what it feels like to be worshipped head to toe. And fucked so hard you forget any name that came before mine.”

I almost dropped my water bottle.

He’d never been so bold with me before. So direct, so shamelessly sure of himself.

God help me—I liked it.

I wasn’t a prude. Not even close. But something about hearing him say something like that, Ryder Voss, with that razor-sharp calm and eyes holding mine, lit me up from the inside out.

My face burned, heat blooming down my neck, and my thighs pressed together on instinct.

My body didn’t care that this was a disaster waiting to happen.

It only knew who was standing in front of me, and exactly what he was promising.

“Why would you tell him that?” I asked. The words came softer than I meant them to.

“I told you, he needed to hear the truth,” he said simply.

My lips parted, no words coming out. He used my silence like an open door and closed the distance between us.

“I warned you,” he murmured. “And that line you’ve been clinging to? It’s gone. I have no problem bleeding him or anyone else who wants to get in the way, dry over what’s mine.”

“What are you actually saying right now? Where is this coming from?”

“Remember the other night? I let you say your peace, even though every word was a lie. You knew it. I knew it. Now it’s my turn to speak mine.”

“This isn’t remotely the same thing.” I gestured with my hands.

“One of us had to end this fucking repetition we’ve been caught up in. We haven’t been us since the night you kissed me. I’m done pretending that meant nothing.” His eyes burned into mine, unrelenting.

“Then… where does that leave us, Rye?” My voice trembled, but I couldn’t look away.

“It leaves us exactly where we should’ve been all along. No more in-between. No more hiding. No more acting like we’re just friends. I won’t let you keep running from what’s already yours.”

“Ryder…” I shook my head, my chest tight. “This is actually insane.”

“I’ve never claimed to be sane,” he murmured, leaning in, his body brushing mine and stealing what was left of my breath. “But when it comes to you? I’ve never seen clearer.” His words wrapped around me, sharp and reverent all at once.

“After last night, I knew I needed to come here for three things. To make sure you were okay. To tell you this is happening and remind you who you belong to.”

I pressed a hand to my chest like I could steady the chaos inside. “I don’t get a say in this?”

His eyes didn’t waver. “No.”

“No?” I echoed.

“What is there to say?” His hands moved to my waist, fingers digging in just enough to ground me—or trap me.

He pressed me back against the nearest surface, his body caging mine completely.

“Tell me you don’t love me the same way I’ve always loved you.

Tell me you regret kissing me. Tell me you don’t want this, that you don’t feel me in your fucking bones,” he demanded, his hands sliding up to cup my face, holding me steady. “Lie to me, Sass.”

I didn’t want to. I couldn’t.

I’d never been any good at lying to him, and he knew it.

Still… “You have a girlfriend,” I whispered, the words brittle, my last pathetic shield.

“I’ll handle her when the time’s right.”

The words came out like a death sentence.

“So you’re just stringing her along until then?”

I tried to twist away, but he wouldn’t let me.

His grip only tightened, his thumbs stroking my jaw in a touch so tender it felt cruel.

“You know me, Sass. You know nothing I do is without reason,” he murmured, his forehead dropping to mine.

“You have forty-eight hours, give or take, to process.” His voice grew quiet, almost gentle, but beneath it was that dark, unyielding edge.

“After that, I start making moves for us. Our future.”

I didn’t know what to say.

I hadn’t seen this coming, but I also wasn’t surprised.

I wasn’t so oblivious that I couldn’t feel it, the invisible string coiling between us, pulling tighter with every shared secret, every almost, and every moment we pretended we weren’t already each other’s, knotting us into something neither of us fully understood but both of us needed.

“You don’t have to be afraid of this,” he promised, his voice low, like a vow meant only for me. “I don’t want anything but to be yours. Only yours.”

I wasn’t afraid of him.

I was afraid of what we’d risk losing if I let myself fall completely, the way I already wanted to.

But as he stood there, his eyes burning into mine like I was the only thing in the universe worth seeing, every argument I’d built crumbled at my feet.

I wanted every twisted, possessive, beautiful part of him.

I already loved him, ruthless edges and all. I always had.

And he was right.

We couldn’t keep spinning in this endless orbit.

Stalling, colliding, ripping each other apart just to put each other back together again.

I swallowed hard, my pulse thrumming like a war drum in my ears.

In that moment, I realized that if I stepped forward, there would be no turning back, and a part of me already knew I wouldn’t survive stepping away.