Now, as we walk down the quiet hallway of the clubhouse toward his room, I feel that same look burning into my back. It makes my spine tingle, makes my knees unsteady, makes my breath come too fast.
Breaker unlocks his door, pushes it open, and steps aside for me to enter first.
The room is dimly lit, warm from a single lamp. I step inside and turn to face him. He shuts the door behind him, and suddenly the air changes — thick, alive, charged.
Breaker takes a few slow steps toward me, giving me every chance to stop him, to rethink this, to run. But for once in my life, I don’t want to run.
Not from him.
Not tonight.
His hands lift to my face, big and warm and reverent. His thumbs stroke my cheekbones as if he’s memorizing me with touch alone.
“Are you sure about this, Sparrow?” he murmurs.
My breath shudders out. “More sure than I’ve been about anything in a long time.”
A muscle jumps in his jaw, something fierce and tender all at once. Then he leans in and kisses me. And it’s… different. It’s not like the kisses before, not flushed with heat or the exhilarating rush of doing something reckless. This one is slow, deliberate, deep, like he’s laying down every piece of himself — battered, scarred, strong — and inviting me to do the same.
My hands slide into his hair, while his arms wrap around my waist. We move together, mouths brushing, bodies pressing, tasting each other as if we’ve been starving, while each exhale is an urgent moan. Then he lifts me, carrying me toward the bed with a gentleness that shouldn’t be possible from a man his size.
When my back hits the mattress, I’m shaking, my body vibrating with want and need. From finally feeling safe in someone’s arms instead of running from them. Breaker brushes my hair back from my forehead, studying me with that intense, devastating focus of his.
“You’re something else, Sparrow,” he whispers. “Something I didn’t know I needed.”
My heart clenches so hard it hurts.
We lay there, wrapped up in each other, kissing and talking, touching but not rushing. There’s no pressure. No fear. No shadows except the ones we’ve both been carrying alone for too long.
His fingers trace down my arm. “I’m glad you came with me tonight.”
I swallow, throat tight. “I’m glad you asked.”
“Hell,” he mutters softly, eyes locked on mine, “I don’t know what’s happening to me… but it’s you. It’s all you.”
Something in me cracks open — a shell I didn’t think I could break after everything I’ve survived. The words are suddenly on my tongue, burning, impossible to hold back.
“I love you.”
Breaker freezes.
My heart stops.
Those three words hang in the air like a wildfire spark: tiny, bright, impossible to take back. I feel the weight of them, the truth of them, the permanent shift they create in my chest. These are words I can’t unsay. Words I don’t want to unsay.
His hand comes up to cradle my cheek, thumb brushing just below my eye.
“Riley,” he whispers, voice hoarse, “My Sparrow… say it again.”
I blink, breath catching.
“...I love you.”
A slow, rugged, devastating smile spreads across his face.
“I love you, too.”
And when he kisses me again, I taste forever.
