His eyes narrow, not in anger but in something closer to recognition. “Nobody’s got their shit together, Mia. Some of us just fake it better than others.”
Something in his words makes my chest tighten. “So, what are you faking?”
He leans back in his chair, the faintest smirk ghosting across his lips. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
I roll my eyes, but the tension in my shoulders eases just a little. He’s giving me an out, a chance to steer the conversation away from the minefield of emotions threatening to swallow me whole.
But I don’t want an out. Not tonight.
I hesitate, the memory of Jason’s rage flashing behind my eyes. I can still hear the crack of his hand against my face, feel the way his fingers dug into my arm as he spat promises ofworse consequences if I ever embarrassed him again. I shake my head, forcing the image away.
“I just... I needed to get out,” I say. “To forget.”
His eyes darken, and for a moment, I think he’s going to press for more. But instead, he says, “You deserve better.”
The simplicity of it knocks the air out of me. No one’s ever said that to me before—not in a way that felt real. My throat tightens, and I look away, blinking back tears.
“Better doesn’t exist for people like me,” I murmur.
His hand moves, hesitating for only a fraction of a second before it lands over mine. The touch is warm, solid, grounding. “You’re wrong.”
I meet his gaze again, and something in his expression breaks down the last of my walls. Before I can stop myself, I lean forward and kiss him. It’s impulsive, desperate, and when his lips press back against mine, it feels like I’m breathing for the first time in years.
His lips are warm, firm, and when they press against mine, the world tilts. I don’t know what I expected—maybe hesitation, maybe surprise, but not this. Not the way he leans into me, his hand sliding up to cup the back of my neck, threading through my hair.
I gasp softly, and it’s like a spark ignites between us. His tongue brushes mine, tentative at first, then bolder when I don’t pull away.
My hands grip the front of his shirt, clinging to him like he’s the only solid thing in a world spinning out of control. His other hand finds my waist, pulling me closer until there’s nothing between us but the thrum of my racing pulse.
He tastes like whiskey and something darker, something I can’t name but want more of. His stubble scrapes my skin, and I welcome the sensation, pushing my chest into his, feeling his groan reverberate through me. I’m wet between my thighs.
“Mia,” he murmurs, his voice rough, like he’s been holding back something for too long.“Tell me this isn’t just the alcohol talking.”
“It’s not,” I state, and my voice doesn’t even waver. “I just… I need this. I need you.”
I blink, and I’m back in my kitchen again.
The memory lingers as we sip our coffee. Damon’s still sitting there, his gray eyes watching me with that same intensity I remember from that night. But now, they carry something else. Something heavier. Regret maybe.
“Mars Security is the best,” Damon says, his voice carefully neutral.
“The hospital’s covering the expenses,” I reply.
“The only question is: do you want our help? Do you want my help?”
The air in the kitchen feels impossibly still. He’s not just talking about security. I know it, and he knows it.
I think about Jason, about the bruises he left on my skin and the ones I’ve hidden even deeper. About the way he always finds me, no matter how carefully I plan, no matter how far I run. About the way the twins’ innocent laughter falters when they sense my fear, even when I try to hide it.
And then I think about Damon, about the safety I felt during one fleeting night years ago. About the way he held Ella earlier, the way she didn’t hesitate to trust him. The way his presence fills the house, making it feel less like a fortress and more like a home.
I need him. More than I should. More than I’m willing to admit, even to myself. But knowing it’s selfish doesn’t stop me from saying the words.
“Yes,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “I want your help.”
“Good,” he says, standing. “I’ll be back soon to set up a full security plan. Don’t open the door for anyone except me or my team.”
I nod, my throat too tight to speak.
