But more importantly, my life was mine.
Mum was doing better, more independent than I’d seen her in years thanks to the new medication. She’d even started talking about going back to work. There were stillbad days, of course. I don’t think trauma like hers will ever really disappear. But she was healing as much as she could.
I caught her eye as I passed, and she gave me a small, tight smile from her seat. Crowds weren’t her thing, but she came because she knew this was important to me.
Finally slipping free from the buzzing room, I reached the cloakroom and pushed open the door, only for a hand to grab my wrist and yank me inside. The door slammed shut behind me, and in the next breath, I was pinned against it, pressed between the wood and the heat ofhim.
Then his mouth was on mine. Hungry. Fierce.
“You really think you can wear that tiny dress and not drive me insane?” Ryder murmured against my ear, his voice rough enough to turn my knees weak. His hands slid up my thighs beneath the hem, greedy, claiming, like he’d been starved for the feel of me.
I widened my stance, his groan vibrating through my core when his fingers dipped between my legs and found me completely bare.
“Fuck. Is this for me, blondie?”
Need pulsed low in my stomach, heat flooding my veins at just being near him. “No, for some other man.”
He growled—actually growled—and fisted a hand in my braid, tugging my head back just enough that his lips brushed my throat. “Keep testing me,” he warned softly, “and I’m going to forget we’re atyourexhibition. I’ll take you so fucking hard against this door, you won’t be able to walk out of this room and face those people knowing my cum’s dripping from between those pretty thighs.”
Heat flooded through me at the desire wrapped inside those words. “Promises, promises,” I teased, letting my lips ghost across his jaw.
His laugh was low, disbelieving. “Blondie, I’m two seconds from carrying you out of here over my shoulder.”
I returned his laughter, placing my palm gently against his chest. “Why are you hiding in a cloakroom, Mr Finn?”
He hesitated, just long enough for my heart to start racing. “I have something to show you,” he said quietly. “Or more like ask you. But I need you to trust me, okay?”
I nodded, confused by the uncharacteristic show of nerves. “Ryder?—”
“No, just wait,” he said, taking my hand firmly in his.
Without giving me time to question it, he opened the door and guided me through the crowd. A few people tried to stop us, offering more congratulations and asking questions, but Ryder handled them with a few well-placed smiles and disarming charm.
Before I knew it, we’d stepped out onto the balcony. The city stretched out around us, lights glittering like scattered stars as a cool breeze swept over me.
“What’s this?” I asked, my fingers brushing over the delicate white paper lantern resting on the small table.
Ryder exhaled and ran a hand through his hair, looking a little unsure. “I read somewhere it’s a tradition. You light one, send it into the sky with your hopes and wishes or whatever.” He paused, then added with a half-smile,“Honestly, I think it’s ridiculous. But I figured you’d appreciate the symbolism… you know, to mark the night those pretentious twats finally realised how talented you are.”
“My talent? I seem to remember it made your eyes bleed.”
“Well,” he chuckled, “only one eye these days.”
He winked, and I couldn’t help but laugh. He was still one of the most striking men I’d ever seen, effortlessly magnetic, and that pale eye of his only added to his charm.
I didn’t see a flaw. I saw the man who’d risked everything to save me.
“I loveyou,” I said, the words coming from deep within my soul.
“Hold onto that thought,” he murmured, pulling a lighter from his pocket.
He placed the lantern gently in my hands, then lit the small candle inside. Together, we released it into the night sky. I found myself grinning as we watched it rise, soft light drifting higher until it disappeared amongst the stars.
“That was—” I started, turning toward him, and froze.
Because he was on one knee, a ring balanced between his fingers.
“You’re my home, Violet,” he said, voice rough with emotion. “Not this city. Not a place.You.Wherever you go, I’ll follow. I can’t promise you poetry. And I’m sure as hell not the hero you deserve. But what I can offer you is me. All of me—flaws, scars, fucked-up past and all.
