His eyes lock on Steven. Jaw tight. Shoulders squared. Fists flexing at his sides.
“Step away from her,” Ghost growls.
Steven stumbles back. “I—this isn’t what it looks like—”
Ghost moves. One second, he’s across the room. The next, Steven’s pinned to the wall, Ghost’s forearm at his throat.
“You touch her?” Ghost’s voice is low, deadly calm. “You eventhoughtabout hurting her?”
Steven chokes. “N-no—”
Ghost leans in closer. “I’ve killed men for less.”
My breath hitches. I clutch the towel tighter, heart pounding. Not from fear, but from the sheer intensity of him.
He’s here.He came for me.
Steven’s pale now. Mouth opening and closing uselessly.
“Get out,” Ghost snarls. “If you ever come near her again, I’ll break every bone in your body.”
Steven bolts. The door slams behind him.
Silence.
Ghost turns to me. His gaze softens instantly. He crosses the room, hands no longer fists.
“You okay?” His voice is rough but careful.
I nod. “Yeah.”
“Did he touch you?”
“No.”
He exhales sharply through his nose, still vibrating with fury. Then his eyes drop. To the towel. My bare shoulders. Wet hair.
“I came early,” he murmurs. “Wanted to check if you needed a hand with the flowers.”
I step closer. “Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me.”
But I do.
Because he showed up. Because he cared. Because I didn’t have to face that alone.
“I’m sorry you saw that,” I whisper.
He cups my cheek. “Don’t be.”
The air hums between us, thick and heavy. Want. Relief. Somethingdeeper.
“I should get dressed,” I say softly.
His eyes darken. “Right.”
But neither of us moves.
