Page 52

“Why forty-eight hours?” I latched onto it like a lifeline. Something to hold onto while everything else felt like it was shifting beneath my feet.

His fingers brushed a strand of hair from my cheek.

“I want to do this right. You overthink everything, and there are things I need to handle first. Things that'll silence the doubts you already have, and the ones I know you’ll invent before this becomes official.”

“I’m not that bad,” I said, half-defensive, half-teasing, though my voice betrayed how hard my heart was pounding.

He gave me a look, knowing and laced with something unreadable. The ‘things’ he needed to handle sounded ominous, but I didn’t ask him to explain. I knew it was better that I didn’t have all the details.

“I don’t completely understand… but I trust you.”

A slow, crooked smile curved across his mouth. “That’s all I need.”

He traced the pad of his thumb along my jaw. “Does this mean you’re finally done denying this? Or do I need to be clearer?”

“Are you giving me a choice?”

His answer came soft but unflinching. “You already made it.”

His gaze dropped to my mouth, and I swallowed hard. My hand came up, hesitant, cupping his face.

“We can’t…” I whispered, my voice breaking on the edges.

If I let myself go there now, there’d be no pulling back. I was already past the point of redemption as someone’s girlfriend, but crossing that final line? It wouldn’t be a one-time thing. It would never stop. It would consume us both, and I wasn’t na?ve enough to pretend otherwise.

“I know, Sass. I know,” he said, his voice low and rough, threaded with a restraint that nearly undid me.

“I can’t fuck you on the counter yet. Can’t put you on your knees in the middle of this kitchen.

Can’t bend you over the couch and make you forget every excuse you’ve ever given yourself for why this shouldn’t happen.

” A dark laugh curled at the edge of his words.

“This stopped being just friends a long time ago, Sass. For me, it’s all been foreplay. And I can play a little longer.”

His breath brushed my lips, warm and deliberate. The self-control in his voice, so unlike him, was almost more dangerous than the words themselves.

“Ryder—” I breathed, torn between panic and the raw, aching desire for him spiraling through me.

He leaned in, his nose brushing mine, mouth so close I could almost feel his lips. Then, just as suddenly, he drew back, brow furrowed as he looked around the house.

“What is that smell?”

I blinked, dazed. What? I took a breath and smelled it too. My eyes widened. “Crap.”

I spun around; my gaze locked onto the toaster.

Smoke curled up like an omen from hell. “Damnit.” I hit the cancel button and yanked the lever back harder than necessary.

Two burnt-to-hell toaster strudels launched out like they were mocking me.

I stared down at their charred edges, blackened beyond saving, and noticed the dial turned all the way to the max. Who the hell was using that setting?

“They’re burnt, Rye.”

I heard him as he came closer. “Sanj,” his voice was careful, like he wasn’t sure which direction to take. “Are you… crying?” He was attempting not to laugh. I could tell.

“No.”

“You’re trying not to.”

My eyes stung. Go figure, it was this stupid, blackened, sugary mess that cracked me entirely. “Only because you pointed it out.”

He wrapped his arms around my waist, hugging me from behind. “I think you need this,” he murmured. “Nice outfit, by the way.”

I laughed lightly. “I love this hoodie.” I brushed the hem where it hit mid-thigh. “It makes me feel safe like you do, and it’s comfy.”

Ryder let out a soft sound, something close to a hum, and rested his chin lightly on the top of my head. “I make you feel safe, do I?”

My eyes closed, a bittersweet ache blooming in my chest. It was so easy to fall back into…well, us.

I turned in his arms and pressed my cheek against his chest, listening to the steady, unrelenting rhythm of his heartbeat. “You’ve always been my safe place, Rye.”

He didn’t answer with words. Just held me tighter, fingers trailing through my hair, slow and soothing, like he knew I needed to hold onto him a little longer. I pulled back with a small, embarrassed smile and turned toward the counter.

“Let’s pretend I didn’t almost need to be institutionalized over burnt toaster strudels.”

He laughed, the sound low and warm. “It’ll be our secret.”

I caught my reflection in the microwave door and winced. “Oh my God. Rye, I look like a trash panda.”

His eyes dragged over me slowly, like he was mapping every inch.

“Your hair’s messy in that just-rolled-out-of-bed way. No makeup. Drowning in my hoodie. You’ve never looked more fucking beautiful.”

I rolled my eyes, but my face flushed warm all the same as I changed the subject. “Hey, about the fight at the Nest. Is everyone okay? Cade and Nick weren’t hurt?”

“Sass.” His tone said it all.

“I still needed to ask.” I flinched when I touched one of the scorched pastries and burned my finger.

Ryder stepped in, gently easing me out of the way before grabbing the strudels and tossing them in the trash with no reaction to how hot they were. “You know those two live for that shit. Rook’s good too.”

“Why did you let Aiden fight?”

“ Let? ” He laughed. “I wasn’t gonna be the one to stop him.”

“Fair enough.”

His expression shifted enough for me to notice the edge temper into something quieter. “I did have another reason for coming over tonight, besides laying eyes on you and making it known where we’re at.”

Right. He said he had three reasons. So far, I’d only heard two.

“What is it?”

“What’s upstairs right now?”

“Um… bedrooms?” I offered, confused.

“And?” he pressed.

“My bathroom…” I trailed off, my stomach flipping as realization set in.

He knew.

Someone told him.

He was watching me so closely that he caught the exact moment I registered it. I didn’t have time to blink before he grabbed me by the waist and lifted me clean off the floor like I weighed nothing. I gasped, flailing.

“Ryder—what the hell—put me down!”

He gripped me just beneath my thighs, slinging me over his shoulder. His pace up the stairs was slow. My fists hit his back twice before I gave up.

The only sound was his breathing and my own heartbeat, which sounded like a war drum between my ears.

He reached my bedroom and pushed the door open without ceremony, dropping me onto my bed.

The mattress bounced under me from the impact, but he was already striding across the room, headed straight for the bathroom.

When his eyes landed on the black trash bag taped over the cracked window, he stopped.

“Ryder…” I started.

“Why didn’t you tell me the night this happened?” His voice was low, clipped. “You didn’t mention it yesterday either.”

I started to sit up, heart thudding. In one seamless motion, he was across the room and on top of me, pressing me flat against the mattress. The breath punched out of my lungs.

“Hey!” I protested and tried to shove him off.

He caught both of my wrists in his hands, dragging them above my head and pinning them there, his grip firm but not cruel.

The hoodie I wore—his hoodie—rode up as I shifted beneath him, the hem bunching at my hips.

Cool air licked my bare thighs. Our bodies aligned too perfectly, hips to hips, chest to chest, and my pulse spiked so violently I was sure he could feel it.

Every nerve ending lit up. I didn’t know if I wanted to punch him or pull him closer.

“Why the fuck would you hide this from me?” he asked again, his voice low and razor-sharp. He never needed to be loud to be lethal. Sometimes, I almost wished he would just yell. This quiet fury was so much worse.

“I was going to tell you,” I said, my breath catching. “I swear, I was going to—”

“Tell me. I know. Of course you were. But when? After they tried again? It got worse during the actual Hunt? When I first heard about this, I told myself there was no way it was true, not after you had every chance to tell me yourself. Turns out it was the truth, and I had to find out through a third fucking party.”

A humorless laugh cut through the air, colder than any shout

“What did I do, Sass? If you trust me… why the fuck have you been keeping secrets from me?”

My heart twisted in my chest. I wanted to say it wasn’t like that, I didn’t mean for it to be this way, but every excuse felt thin and pathetic on my tongue.

I hadn’t told him because part of me had been terrified of how he’d react.

Another part of me, albeit small and shrinking, had wanted to handle it with the girls, prove I wasn’t just some fragile girl who needed saving.

Now, I realized how badly I’d miscalculated. I had hurt him.

I forced myself to hold his stare. “I didn’t tell you because I thought I could handle it, and I didn’t want to drag you into something I wasn’t even sure of myself.”

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway drove right through the tension. Doors slammed. Laughter spilled out, drifting closer.

“They’re back,” I rasped, panic sparking in my chest. “Let me up.”

Instead of moving, his body pressed even harder into mine, a dark smirk tilting his lips. “What’s wrong, Sass?” he murmured, low and taunting. “Don’t want them to see how fast you fall apart for me?” He rolled his hips once, slow and deliberate.

A strangled sound clawed free before I could stop it, my head tipping back.

His grin sharpened into something feral. “If I couldn’t feel how much you want this,” he drawled, his gaze dragging down between us, “I could sure as fuck see it.”

I bit down on my lip so hard I tasted blood. Frustration and want tangled into something scorching, almost unbearable. My thighs clenched around him, desperate and instinctive. He rocked forward again, harder this time, and I felt all of him, thick and unyielding against me.

Jesus.

I’d seen the outline before, plenty of times. Feeling it? There was no preparing for that.

“It’s mutual, by the way. I want you so fucking bad it hurts. I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

His words detonated something low in my stomach, heat flaring across my skin.

“You said we wouldn’t,” I whispered, my voice catching. My lashes fluttered, everything in me trembling from the effort of holding back. Not just the tears pricking at my eyes, but the need that had been gnawing at me for years, patient and endless.

“No crying,” he warned softly. “I’ll break my promise, and we’ll destroy your pretty bed.”

My thighs clenched again at the threat. He hadn’t even touched me where I wanted him most, and I was already ruined.

Like flipping a switch, he kissed my cheek before taking my hands and lifting me upright with careful, deliberate gentleness, so at odds with the dark edge that still lingered in his voice.

“Tell me what your note said.”

The sudden shift left me rattled, unsteady. He reached down, easing his hoodie back over my bare thighs, smoothing the hem like he hadn’t just been seconds from ruining me.

“I… I don’t remember, honestly.”

It wasn’t a lie. I truly didn’t know where the original note had gone. I hadn’t thought about it until now. He studied me, his expression giving nothing away.

“I believe you. Is there anything else?”

I hesitated, my mind still scrambled, heart hammering.

I could barely think straight, let alone come up with more confessions. He disarmed me so easily, with every word and touch.

“I… I don’t think so.”

He held my gaze a moment longer, then gave a small, firm nod.

“Okay.” He leaned in, pressing a warm kiss on my forehead, then dragged his lips across mine, a whisper-soft touch, a promise of everything he hadn’t yet taken.

“I have to go,” he murmured, “But if anything else happens… I better not hear it from someone else.”

I didn’t get a chance to reply.

He turned and walked out, unhurried. A few seconds later, the front door slammed shut behind him.