Shaking.
Ruined in the best possible way.
His voice is rough, completely wrecked. “Marley…” He swallows, his thumb brushing my cheek as if he can’t stop touching me. “If you weren’t sure before, that kiss just made me yours.”
My chest squeezes hard, emotion swelling so big it threatens to crack me open. His breath mixes with mine, warm and unsteady, his hands still cradling my face like I’m something precious he refuses to let go of.
“Let’s go back in there,” he murmurs, voice low and certain. “And leteveryasshole in that room knowexactlywho you belong to.”
And God help me, I do belong to him—in every way possible.
I feel invincible in his arms.
Ready to walk back into that ballroom like we’re a damn earthquake.
Together.
He leads me back inside, his hand warm and possessive on the small of my back, and we make our way directly to the dance floor. The music swells around us, something slow and romantic, and suddenly we’re swaying together, and nothing else matters.
Not the age gap that puts miles between us.
Not the fact that I feel inferior to him in every way.
Not even Derek, watching from the bar with murder in his eyes.
All that matters is the way Nitro holds me as if I’m precious, the way he looks down at me like I’ve rearranged his entire universe.
“I meant what I said out there,” he murmurs against my ear. “I adore you, Marley. I’m going to spend however long it takes proving it to you.”
“I adore you too. I just hope you can put up with me being uncomfortable with praise.”
He smirks, then he kisses me again, right here in the middle of the dance floor with the entire gala watching. He kisses me as if he means it, as if he’ll never get enough, and I’m the only person in the whole world who matters.
We spend the next couple of hours invested only in ourselves. Dancing, drinking, having a good time, all while Derek and his hanger-on of a girlfriend watch from the sidelines. If my plan of bringing Nitro as a fake date was a good one, falling for him in the process and having him as a real boyfriend was even better.
If that’s what he is now.
Tonight, I’m going to celebrate the relationship we have and not care what anyone else thinks.
I’m choosing to be fearless.
Chapter Eighteen
MARLEY
As we leave the gala, the silence in Nitro’s car feels alive. It pulses between us like a third heartbeat, heavy with everything we’ve said tonight and everything we haven’t. My burgundy dress clings to me, suddenly too tight, too warm, and I can’t stop replaying the kiss on that balcony. The way his mouth felt against mine. The way he held me made me feel precious.
Like I mattered.
My fingers twist in my lap, and I catch Nitro glancing at me from the driver’s seat, his jaw tight, one hand on the wheel, and the other resting on the center console close enough to touch but not quite touching.
The Vegas Strip blurs past us in streams of neon and noise, but inside this car, the world has narrowed to just us. To the space between his hand and mine. To the question neither of us is brave enough to ask.
What happens now?
The apartment building appears too quickly. He pulls into the parking lot, kills the engine, and the sudden silence is deafening. For a moment, neither of us moves. We sit here, breathing, existing in this suspended moment where everything could change or stay exactly the same.
“Marley.” His voice is rough, a gravelly sound to it. “I meant what I said out there. About wanting this to be real. About—”
