And then I opened them again.
And he was still there. Still looking at me like I was the only thing he saw.
We were chaos braided into calm. A wildfire wrapped in silk.
Unpredictable.
Unstoppable.
“Let’s go home,” Nick said, voice like a warning shot before the next war.
But before we stepped forward, I caught his hand in mine—tight, sure.
A silent vow between us.
We weren’t victims. We weren’t villains.
We were something else entirely now.
And whatever came next?
We’d face it with teeth bared and fingers laced.
Together.
Chapter 12
Nick
She sat in the passenger seat, half-lit by the wash of streetlights bleeding through the windshield. Jaw tight. Shoulders drawn. Silent.
She wasn’t looking at me. Just out the window, like the city held answers I couldn’t give her.
I knew that look. Not fear. Not regret.
Uncertainty.
She’d said yes. Put the ring on. Walked down that hallway like she belonged at my side. But this—now—was different.
This was the part most men fucked up.
My grip on the wheel tightened, knuckles whitening around the leather. I hated seeing her like this. Not because she was fragile—Kennedy Maddox didn’t break easy—but because I could feel her spinning inside. Tension coiled tight under her skin, and she was trying so damn hard not to let it show.
She bit her lip.
That fucking lip.
Every time she did it, something in me snapped taut. Made me want to pull over, drag her into my lap, and swear she’d never have to second-guess anything again. But I didn’t.
I kept my hands where they were. Kept my eyes on the road. Gave her the silence she needed even if it was killing me.
“You nervous?” I asked, voice low. Controlled.
She hesitated.
Then nodded once.
Barely.
