Leo’s gaze snaps to me, then to Nate. His mouth thins; for the first time I catch a flicker—almost fear—at what he sees between us. “What?”
I blurt out, “There was a thunderstorm! I was scared! Ryan was sleeping like a corpse!”
Nate’s tone is calm, steady. “She couldn’t sleep. That’s all.”
Leo’s eyes cut between us, sharp and assessing, taking in how natural we look together. His glare softens when it lands on me but stays razor sharp when it shifts back to Nate. “This isn’t cool, man.”
Ryan, unhelpfully, grins and layers on. “Relax, Leo. It’s Nate. He’s not gonna do anything—look at him, he’s practically a babysitter.” He smirks, clearly enjoying himself. “Besides, she’s safer with him than with you scowling holes in the wall.”
Leo shoots him a look that could melt steel, but Ryan is undeterred. He claps Nate on the shoulder as he walks out. “Better watch yourself, Russo. She’s trouble.”
Nate doesn’t flinch, meeting Leo’s stare head-on. “I know.”
The words hang there, loaded with an undercurrent I don’t understand but can feel crackling in the room. Leo stares at him for a beat longer, trying to figure out exactly what it is that’s bothering him, before huffing and walking toward the kitchen. Ryan’s laughter still reverberates off the walls.
I sit there clutching Greenbeary, cheeks blazing, heart pounding so loud it hurts. Nate looks at me, his eyes steady, telling me Leo’s warning doesn’t change anything between us.
And even with that tension hanging in the air, I feel secure, and...something else I don’t have a name for yet. Something that makes me want to stay in his arms forever, even when the storms are long gone. Something that makes Leo’s warning feel less like protection and more like a wall I’ll eventually want to tear down.
Years later, I’ll realize this was the night I started falling for Nate Russo. Not the dramatic, heart-stopping kind of falling you see in movies, but the quiet, inevitable fall that starts with trust and grows until it changes your life. The kind that makes a twelve-year-old girl believe that as long as she’s with him, nothing bad can ever happen.
15
RUNNING ON FIRE (EDEN)
Istare at the email, cursor blinking accusingly. Three drafts deleted, and I still can’t find the words that won’t make me sound like a coward.
Finally, I type:Hey, Melissa. Feeling under the weather—can Alex cover my Defenders sessions today? Can you ask Monica to reschedule the rest?
I hit send before I chicken out.
The reply comes fast:No problem, we got you. Feel better, Eden.
Short. Kind. No questions. Which somehow makes me feel worse for lying to her.
I toss the device onto the couch and sink down beside it, knees pulled to my chest. The apartment feels too quiet. Nate’s kiss replays in my head on a brutal loop—I can still taste him on my lips, whiskey and want and ten years of silence breaking. Still feel how my body came alive under his touch.
And then his words, low and dangerous: “Come upstairs with me. Let me show you what you mean to me.”
My stomach plummeted when he said it—not from fear of him, but from fear of what would happen if I let go.
Because I was that close to letting go.
I’ve spent years craving the idea of giving up control. It’s lived only in my head, tucked away in the quiet, secret corners no one else can reach. I’ve never trusted anyone enough to give it to them. The thought of a man truly taking it, owning it, has always been the frightening thing I wanted but never believed I could allow myself, not after what happened to me in college.
And last night, with Nate, it wasn’t just a thought anymore. He’s the one man who could take it from me and make me want to give it. That kiss, that growled command, was the edge of everything I’ve feared and wanted.
And how fucked up is it that instead of allowing him to give me what I imagined for years, I’m terrified? Even more than staying numb forever. What if I surrender, and he decides I’m not worth keeping? What if I fall, and there’s no one there to catch me?
Last night, I ran because the unknown was worse than the predictable reality I’ve lived with for years. At least numbness is safe. What Nate offered was everything I’ve never had, and I don’t know if I could survive it, if—when—he realizes I’m not enough.
I bury my face in my hands. Other men I could keep at arm’s length. But Nate? He already knows every weakness, every crack in my armor. He could slip past my defenses without even trying. He’s the only person I ever trusted completely. Which makes him the only one who could break me beyond repair.
My phone buzzes on the counter, sharp enough to make me flinch.
Nate
Skipping out on me, Trouble?
