Page 73

My stomach tightens, not with anxiety exactly, but with the gravity of what today signifies. I place the phone face-down on the counter and force a sip of my latte. Bianca’s up early as well, making Enzo’s smoothie. “You’re up early.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” I reply.

“Oh?” she questions, resting on the kitchen island. “Why’s that?”

I sense her gaze on me as I take another long sip, avoiding looking up. I just offer her a one shoulder shrug. “I don’t know, I just couldn’t fall asleep so I read for a while.”

“Hmm,” She hums, tossing vegetables into the blender. “You’re dressed already. You going somewhere?” she inquires, trying to sound nonchalant but failing.

I keep my tone light. “Yeah. Thought I’d head into town. Pick up some things.”

She leans against the counter against, arms crossed, one eyebrow lifted. “Things?”

“Yeah, like…” I gesture vaguely. “Just girl stuff. Maybe swing by that little shop by the church. Sophia mentioned they get new stock in every week.”

Her eyes remain steady. “Sophia.”

“Mm-hm.” The silence lingers, intentionally stretching.

“You didn’t say you were meeting her.”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “I’m not. Just said she told me about the shop, that’s all.”

Her voice stays airy, but her eyes narrow. “And you’re going alone?”

I look up at her, my own brow lifting. “Is that a problem?”

She examines me, lips tight, then shrugs. “No. Just… you’ve been acting strange lately.”

I stiffen. “Strange how?”

Bianca shrugs again, too casually. “I don’t know. Distant. Secretive. Like you’re hiding something.”

I set down my fork with a sigh. “I’m not.”

She tilts her head, still scrutinising me like she’s waiting for a slip. “You sure?”

“Yes,” I reply, forcing a smile. “I’m just tired, B.

I’m also getting really sick of sitting around this place with nothing to do.

” I add, pushing the eggs around on the plate.

“I might try again to find a job somewhere. Maybe the elusive dark prince of the manor would allow me to work at the library.”

Bianca snorts. “The library?” She eyes me over her coffee cup. “Pretty sure the elusive dark prince doesn’t do quiet buildings and story time.”

I smirk. “Maybe not, but I bet he owns the damn place anyway.”

She goes quiet at that, lowering her mug slowly and I regret the words almost instantly.

Her eyes narrow, sharp and steady. “Why do you talk about him like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you know him.”

I freeze for half a second, then shrug. “Everyone knows Ares. He’s not exactly a mystery.”

“He is to most people,” she says slowly. “But not to you. At least, not lately.”

I push the plate away, appetite gone. “I think you’re reading too much into things.”

“Am I?” she says, tone turning cool. “Because I’ve been watching you. And you act different when he’s around.”

“Bianca,” I warn.

But she leans in slightly, lowering her voice. “Jordyn, tell me the truth. Is there something going on between you two?”

My pulse jumps. I force myself to laugh. “Wow. Really reaching today, huh?” She doesn’t laugh back. Just stares at me like she’s searching for a crack in my lie.

I stand abruptly, grabbing my phone. “Maybe pick up a hobby, Bee. Something to keep you busy, so you don’t spend so much time speculating about my social life.” I toss the napkin onto the table and force a smile. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

“Jordyn.”

I stop in the doorway but don’t look back.

“Be careful,” she says, quiet now. Not suspicious, just… worried.

I don’t answer. Because I’m already in too deep to pretend I’m not.

The walk to town feels longer than usual. Every step tightens the knot in my stomach. Not because I’m scared, just the weight of everything we didn’t say to each other last night.

My phone is silent in my pocket. No new messages. No check-ins.

Bianca’s words still ring in my ears; You act different when he’s around.

She has no idea.

The road curves at the top of the hill, and as the town comes into view, so does Ares.

He’s leaning against his all-black Ducati like he belongs to another world, the kind that moves in silence and shadows. Then again, I suppose he does. His black t-shirt clings to him like a second skin, ink peeking beneath the sleeves, sunglasses hiding his eyes, jaw sharp and unreadable.

His arms are crossed. One boot propped casually against the curb.

He looks calm, controlled, deadly . And somehow… he makes the entire street fade away.

As I get closer, his gaze lifts behind the lenses. He doesn’t move. Doesn’t smile. Just watches me like he’s been doing it his whole life.

“You’re late,” he says when I reach him.

“I’m exactly on time.”

He arches a brow, then reaches for the spare helmet hanging off the handlebars. He holds it out. “Get on.” I hesitate for half a second.

But I take it, and the moment my hands brush his, the chaos inside me goes still. The helmet is warm in my hands, like it’s been waiting for me. I slip it on, fingers trembling just enough that I hope he doesn’t notice.

Ares swings his leg over the Ducati in one fluid motion, the leather of his gloves creaking as he grips the handles. He doesn’t look back as he says, “Hold on.”

I slide onto the seat behind him, letting my knees bracket his hips. The moment my hands find his waist, he stiffens. Just barely, but enough that I feel it.

He revs the engine once, low and hungry then peels away from the curb like the road belongs to him.

The wind bites at my skin, tugging my clothes tight against my frame. But I barely feel it. All I can focus on is the steady thrum of his body beneath mine, the way his spine aligns with my chest, how even now… I press my forehead to his back and feel safe. Even now.

The streets blur around us, sun flickering through the trees like strobe light.

We don’t speak. Not one word. But the silence is louder than anything we could say. Ares doesn’t take the usual roads into town, no main square, no casual passersby. Instead, he winds through quieter streets, down narrow turns that keep us hidden. Discreet, just like him.

Ten minutes later, we pull into a small parking lot tucked between two buildings with no signs. No markings. Just a slate-grey entrance and mirrored glass windows. He kills the engine and steps off the bike like he’s switching masks.

By the time I pull the helmet off, he’s already holding the door open for me.

But I don’t move. Not yet.

I stare at the dark glass, heart pounding, stomach twisted into something tight and painful. Like if I walk through those doors, something about us shifts for good.

Ares watches me, fingers twitching slightly at his side, like he wants to reach for me, but won’t.

Finally, I speak. “Is this how it’s going to be now?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Then, quietly, “What do you mean?”

“This.” I gesture between us. “The silence. The tension. I feel like we’ve taken ten steps back, and you’ve gone back to how we used to be. Like you’re keeping a wall up because things got too real.”

His eyes narrow. “I’m not keeping a wall up, Jordyn.”

I raise a brow. “No?”

He steps closer, close enough that I can feel his heat again, smell the leather of his jacket, the faint trace of coffee on his breath.

His voice drops, low and gruff. “You think if I didn’t want you, I’d be here? That I’d bring you myself instead of sending someone else?”

“Then say something,” I whisper. “Because right now, I don’t know what the hell we are or how to act around you.”

His eyes drop to my lips, then lower and when he looks back at me, he’s all Ares again, dark, brooding, and mine.

“It’s not you I’m angry with, bambina,” he grits out. “It’s me. I let my guard down. I never do that.” His hands flex at his sides like he’s bracing for a fight, not with me, with himself.

“Twice now, I’ve lost control. And both times, it was with you.”

His eyes flash. “Last night, when you asked me not to pull out, and pulled me deeper, I should have protected you. I should have known better, been stronger. I wasn’t. I lost control. That’s on me, not you.”

The air crackles between us, heavy with unspoken words and raw emotion. I search his face for answers, but all I see is a storm raging behind those dark eyes, one part regret, two parts resolve.

“A kid? A future?” He scoffs. “That shit doesn’t belong in my world.” His eyes meet and hold mine, dark and burning. “And neither do you.”

His knuckle brushes my cheek and I lean into it. “But you’re already the one thing I never meant to let in… and I can’t seem to let go.” Words stick like glass in my throat.

“Now go in there,” he murmurs, “and take care of this. Not because I said so. Because you know it’s the right thing to do.”

I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat.

“And Jordyn,” he adds as I turn toward the door. I glance back and his eyes are molten. “I’m still inside you in every way that matters.”

I blink at him, stunned by the credence of the words.

They hit me low and deep, right where I’ve been trying to hold everything in place.

For a moment, I just stare at him. At the man who says so little and yet somehow manages to leave me shattered with the few words he does give.

Then I speak, keeping my tone quiet, but steady. “That’s the problem, Ares. You are.”

His brows dip, like he doesn’t understand.

“You’re in my thoughts when I try to forget. You’re in my chest when I try to breathe. You’re everywhere. All the time.” I shake my head slightly, eyes stinging. “And I don’t know how to carry that.”

His face doesn’t change, but I swear something flickers in his eyes...a crack in the steel.

I take a small step closer, not touching him, but not backing down either. “So don’t say things like that unless you mean them. Because I will believe you. Even when I know I shouldn’t.”

A muscle ticks in his jaw. For a moment, I’m convinced he won’t say anything. And just as I’m about to turn and go inside, he steps forward, slow and deliberate, until his chest nearly brushes mine.