"Tell me what you need. I’ll handle it. Or I’ll make sure no one gets near you unless you want them to."
I look up and find his eyes locked on mine, intent and unguarded.
"I don't know," I admit. "I don't know what anyone can do."
He covers my hand, the strength of his grip sending a shiver through me. There’s nothing gentle in the way he holds me—just possession, the silent promise that he won’t let go unless I beg. The world narrows to that point of contact. I want him to take more. I want to give in. "You don't have to face it alone."
Something in me fractures. Tears well up, hot and sudden. I try to blink them away, but they spill over.
"Sorry," I mumble, pulling my hand back to wipe my face. "I don't usually…"
"Don't apologize." He leans closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Not for this. Not with me."
He’s close enough that I can feel the air shift when he breathes. His jaw ticks, fingers white on the table, like he’s holding himself back from hauling me into his lap and showing me exactly what I do to him. There’s hunger in his stare, a raw edge that makes my pulse tap out a frantic rhythm. If I move, he’ll take. I want him to.
"Sadie," he whispers, a question in my name.
I don't answer with words. I lean forward, closing the distance between us. When our mouths finally crash together, it’s anything but tentative. He takes, his hand rough in my hair, angling my head so I can’t escape, not that I want to. His lips steal my breath, tongue sweeping in, demanding more. I hang on to his shirt, needing him closer, needing him everywhere. His body presses against mine and I give in to the desire, the want to be devoured.
He tastes like sweet coffee. My stomach tightens in a sharp, hungry knot as his fingers thread through my hair, angling my head to deepen the kiss. For one blazing moment, there's nothing but this, his lips, his touch, the soft sound he makes in the back of his throat.
Then reality crashes back. I pull away abruptly, pressing my fingers to my lips.
Axel immediately draws back, eyes wide. "I'm sorry," he says, voice rough. "I shouldn't have?—"
"Don't," I whisper, my fingers still gripping his shirt. I can't tell if I'm asking him not to apologize or not to kiss me again. Maybe both.
He stays perfectly still, watching me with those intent eyes.
"I should go," I say, though my body aches to stay pressed against him, safe in the circle of his arms. "This was… I shouldn't have…"
"It's okay." His voice is gentle, fingers slowly releasing my shirt. "We don't have to figure this out tonight."
I nod, suddenly unable to look at him. My lips still burn from his kiss, the taste of him lingering on my tongue. "I need to check on Poppy."
He stands, respecting the boundary I'm desperately trying to rebuild. "Can I text you tomorrow?"
"Yes," I whisper, surprising myself with the truth of it. "I'd like that."
After he leaves, I lock the door, one, two, three times, and press my forehead against the cool glass. My fingertips buzz like I’ve been holding live wires, and there’s a faint, trembly ache in my knees that makes it hard to trust them to keep me upright, my skin electric with the memory of his touch. I've spent so long building walls to keep everyone out, and somehow, Axel slipped through when I wasn't looking.
The walk upstairs feels endless, my legs heavy with exhaustion. I'm still reeling from the kiss, from the confession, from the relief of finally saying the words out loud. At the top of the stairs, I fumble with my keys, hands shaking.
I push the door open to find my apartment bathed in the soft glow of a single lamp. Rowan sits on my couch, her face tight with worry. On the coffee table in front of her lies a torn envelope, the envelope from my glove compartment.
"Rowan," I breathe, ice sliding down my spine. "What are you?—"
"I found it when I was getting Poppy's extra pacifier from your car." Her voice is flat, controlled. "The one you've been hiding for weeks."
I close the door behind me, leaning against it. "You had no right."
"No right?" She stands, anger flashing in her eyes. "You've been ignoring a court summons, Sadie. Dodging calls. Hiding legal papers while Elliot files for custody of Poppy."
The words hit me like a physical blow. "He can't."
"He is." She points to the papers spread across my table. "Hearing date is in three weeks. In Oregon. If you don't appear, you lose by default."
I sink onto the edge of the couch, knees suddenly too weak to hold me. "This can't be happening."
