He drags a hand across his jaw like the words taste bitter in his mouth. “I guess what I’m trying to say is... I bring nothing but trouble into your life. And maybe you were right to let go.”
The words hit harder than they should, scraping across nerves I didn’t think were still raw. I study him for a beat—how still he is, how practiced the distance in his voice sounds.
“Why does it sound like you’re breaking up with me?” I try to keep my voice light, but there’s a crack running beneath the words I can’t quite seal.
He glances at me now, brows pulling together. “Pretty sure you already beat me to it. Remember?”
He leans in slightly; the couch dipping beneath his weight. His knee brushes mine, and I go still, ridiculously aware of even the slightest contact. Something in me tightens, like my body is reacting before I’ve even given it permission. I sense the change in him, too—more watchful now, like he senses the air between us has tilted.
“I told you exactly how I feel in the elevator, Violet. Every word was true. But the thought of what could’ve happened last night—” He pauses, jaw tight, hands flexing at his sides like he’s trying not to break something. “I can’t stop replaying it. I’m barely holding it together. That’s why you’re better off without me.”
“But you came,” I murmur. “You saved me. You can’t punish yourself for what Elliot did—or let him ruin things.”
He shakes his head slowly, the muscle in his cheek twitching. “Ruin what, Violet?” His voice is low, but there’s steel under it. “I didn’t think there was anything left to ruin.”
He reaches for my chin, tilting it up with maddening gentleness until our eyes lock. He’s doing what he always does—refusing to let me hide. Dragging the truth out of me, whether I’m ready or not.
“God, you’re such an asshole,” I mutter, throwing my hands up in surrender. “I decide I want to be with you, that I love you, and you’re basically telling me tohave a nice life.”
He stills, like I just pulled the ground out from under him.
“Wait - What?”
I shrug, twisting my lips into a half-smile. “But if that’s how you feel, I should get going. London won’t wait forever.” I start to rise.
His hand shoots out, curling around my wrist with enough force to stop time.
“Oh no, Violet,” he says, voice gruff. “You don’t get to tell me you love me and then walk away like that.”
His tone softens, but there’s nothing soft in the way he’s looking at me.
“Tell me you mean it. Tell me you’re not messing with me.”
I meet his eyes with conviction and shake my head.
“I’m not,” I whisper. “Not even a little.”
A flicker of tenderness edges into his gaze before his mouth twitches, a trace of amusement rising to the surface.
“Did you really just call me an asshole while telling me you love me?”
I half-laugh, half-cringe. “Yeah. The version in my head was a lot better.”
His whole body seems to smile, from the slow lift of his chest to the light in his eyes—and just like that, I fall in love with him all over again. My face breaks into the goofiest damn grin it’s ever managed.
“Violet,” he says, his voice dropping an octave. “Don’t show me those dimples unless you’re ready for the consequences.”
“Is that a threat?”
I squeal as he pulls me onto his lap, his hands gripping my thighs.
“Oh, it’s both a threatanda promise.” The possessive glint in his eyes returns, but it doesn’t scare me this time. It’s exactly what I want. I want to be his. There’s no one else I could ever love like this.
“You realize,” he murmurs, brushing his knuckles over my cheek, “now that you’ve told me you love me, you’re never getting rid of me.”
His mouth ghosts over mine, just breathing me in, grazing the corner of my mouth, my jaw, the delicate spot beneath my ear before his tongue parts my lips with a raw sigh. My fingers tangle in his hair as I sink into the heat of his mouth. His tongue teases at first, slow and coaxing, before claiming mine in a kiss that deepens with every desperate flick and breath. I moan softly intohim as his hands slide down—over my ribs, my hips—until he grips my ass, dragging me flush against him.
I start to grind instinctively, rocking my hips, breath coming fast now, the kiss turning wild. His mouth is everywhere—biting, sucking, consuming, like he’s trying to make up for every second we lost. Then—his fingers slide straight between my legs, slicking through my folds, rubbing just right until a quiet curse slips from my mouth.
