Three months later.
It had been three months since everything changed. Three months since Mya fell asleep on my chest in the quiet safety of my house, her cheek flushed, her eyelashes stuck together, her voice hoarse from calling meMasterand then whispering my name like it meant something more than my past.
Now we’re in my parents’ backyard, with the smell of charcoal and the sound of someone blasting 2000s rock. It’s our usual summer cookout. The kind we’ve done a hundred times. But it doesn’t feel the same. I’m not the same.
I glanced over at Mya across the yard. Her hair was pulled up, legs tucked underneath her, and that ADHD sparkled in her eyes as she tried to follow two conversations at once. She’d already dropped her drink, forgotten where she put her sunglasses, and asked me twice if she said something weird to my mom. I loved her for it. I loved her in a way I didn’t think I was ever allowed to love someone. Only, I still needed to tell her.
“Hey.” Tyler clapped a hand on my shoulder. “You look good.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Thanks?”
“Dude, you used to show up to these things hungover and brooding. Now you’re clean-shaven and bringing dessert.”
“It was astore-boughtdessert,” I grumbled.
“Still.” He handed me a soda. “You deserve good things.”
I didn’t say anything to that. Just nodded. Because Ihadfought to believe that. For years, I fought myself every single day, thinking I wasn’t worth saving. Then Mya showed up and stared at every broken piece of me without blinking.
I watched as Sean came over, one arm slung around Lilly, the two of them glowing like they belonged on the cover of a Nicholas Sparks novel. He handed Lilly a drink, kissed the side of her temple, and then walked over to me with that unreadable expression he wears when he’s about to say something meaningful.
He stood beside me quietly, watching Mya. “You really did it.”
“She makes me happy.”
He smiled back but didn’t answer. Just patted my shoulder and went to help Ben burn the burgers.
“You proved all of us wrong,” Connor said behind me. “In the best way.”
“I know.” I muttered.
I watched as Mya went to sit beside my mom, both of them laughing over an old photo album. I saw my dad bring her a plate as he muttered something sarcastic that made her eyes go wide and then narrow in amusement.
She fit in. Not because she was trying to. Not because I asked her to. Because she was justMya. Messy, brilliant, mouthy, soft-hearted Mya. And she walked into this family like she belonged from the beginning.
* * *
Later that night, when we got home, I kicked off my boots and watched as she pulled her dress off and changed into a little button-down sleep piece. She curled into the corner of my couch like it was hers. Truth be told, it was. Everything in this house was now hers, including Bear, who loved her almost as much as I did. This house wasn’t just mine anymore. This life wasn’t just mine. I stood at the counter, watching her. Thinking about how different my life would be had I not met her or if I had picked up that drink months ago.
“Mya,” I whispered, not knowing if she’d hear me.
She looked up, a smile already forming on her face. Her eyes were soft, tired from the day, with makeup smudged under them. She was all undone now… Bare skin, messy hair, wrapped in the blanket she dragged from the bedroom earlier. Meanwhile, I was trying to grasp how to tell her I love her.
“Come here,” I said. It came off a little more demanding than I meant, a little more growly.
She didn’t hesitate, though. If anything, she got a sparkle in her eyes when she heard the way my voice was rougher. She rose from the couch, letting the blanket fall back. I watched every inch of her move toward me, slow and quiet, until she was in front of me with nothing between us.
“You okay?” She asked.
I nodded once. Then I leaned in, brushing my nose against her cheek, my hands settling on her waist. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this okay.”
Her mouth turned up in a small smile, like she didn’t quite believe me. I kissed her before she could answer. My griptightened on her as I lifted her onto the counter and ripped her shirt open. She gasped, but before she could say a word, I had her nipple between my teeth, biting down until she yelped and arched into me. Her fingers clawed at my hair, pulling. I bit harder, dragging her nipple between my teeth until small red and purple bruises bloomed against her pale skin.
“You’re going to stay perfectly still for me.” I growled.
“Yes, Master.”
I grabbed her wrists and pulled them behind her back, securing them with one hand.
