“Fireworks? I didn't think your place was close enough to any city that might be setting them off.” She wasn't really hinting for information on where they were, she had just assumed that the mansion had to be remote because the guys were hiding from her brother, so Ridge couldn’t get his claws back into his creations.
“It’s not. Thunder decided to make his own, and Dragon has been itching for a chance to let out some of his aggression, so he’s helping.”
“Do you guys set off fireworks every New Year’s Eve?” she asked as she pushed away from the table and stretched out the kinks in her back from spending so long bent over the table.
“No. Never. This will be the first.”
Straightening, she looked over at Steel. “Because of me?”
“Mmhmm.” He nodded, and in a rare moment of vulnerability, dropped his guard a little to show the uncertainty he was feeling. It helped to know he was as confused about the weird tension brewing between them as she was.
For once, she didn't want to be a brat, she wanted to feel something real rather than the shields she kept up to protect herself. “I like fireworks,” she said softly.
The answering smile Steel gave her made her heart soar. It was well worth the small amount it cost her to give Steel something genuine. She was so tired of shields, of fear, and wanted to be able to figure out who the real Rose Gardner was. The one who just existed, who wasn't molded, who wasn't hiding, who didn't have to always be the tough girl because she had no one to count on to watch her back.
“I have the perfect place to watch them.”
Nodding, Rose didn't fight it when his large hand claimed hers, and she followed him willingly through the house and up the stairs. They didn't stop on the second floor, which was where her room was, they took another flight, and then another, up to the top floor.
Steel led her down a few more halls and then opened a door, and they stepped into what had to be his bedroom. The dark wooden floorboards complemented the black walls. There was an enormous bed against one wall, its frame made of black metal. There was an antique roll top desk in a corner, shelves in another, an open door led to a bathroom, and she assumed a walk-in closet of some sort since there were no wardrobes visible in the room. On the opposite wall to the one with the door they’d just walked through were French doors that opened out onto a balcony.
That was where Steel led her.
They stepped through them, and it was almost like stepping into another world. The space was large, with an intricate metal railing at the end. Two sides were part of the roof, making it feel like this little area had been carved out. There was a huge blanket spread out on the ground, and pillows had been piled about. Fairy lights were strung up, and the sky had cleared from the earlier snow, making the little lights seem like an extension of the stars.
She didn't need to ask to know he’d set this up just for her.
It was without a doubt the nicest thing anyone had ever done for her, and that it was her captor who had done it was all sorts of twisted.
Only he wasn't really her captor anymore. She might be in his house, but Rose was fairly certain that if she demanded that he let her leave, he’d take her to Prey and let her have some say in how she was protected from her brother.
But she hadn't done that because something kept drawing her to Steel. He awakened parts of her she hadn't allowed herself to acknowledge. When your entire life had been about just surviving each day, it was hard to turn that off.
Hard to let go.
Without giving herself time to second-guess herself, to consider all the ways this was a stupid thing to do, how other people might view her, or what they’d think of her. Rose didn't even give herself time to figure out what she’d think of herself, she just acted.
Throwing herself into Steel’s arms, she trusted him to catch her, and crushed her lips to his. His large hands circled her hips, holding her against him as she kissed him like she was a drowning woman and he was the only source of air to be found.
“Little ladybug,” he murmured against her lips.
“Thank you,” she whispered back before he could reject her. She was pretty certain he wouldn't, but not positive.
“You do crazy things to me,” he admitted. “Things I didn't even know were possible.”
“You do the same to me. I never thought I would want a man to touch me, but I crave yours.”
“Did your brother?—”
“No,” she quickly cut him off. “Ridge never touched me like that. Not sexually. But I've never acknowledged that side of myself. I thought it was because maybe I just wasn't made to like it, but I was wrong. It was because I was afraid. Afraid to let go, afraid because no one has ever been there to catch me before, afraid because I'm always in control and I don’t know what it looks like to release that hold.”
The thing was, she felt ready.
This whole ordeal had been a wake-up call. She’d fought for her independence, to have a life of her own, but she was wasting it.
No more.
Rose was done hiding, even from herself.
