My heart thumps.She asked me how he was.“Better.”
She nods, pleased, and I continue, pretending her littlequestions don’t shred me. “We were leaving through the alley when I heard a scream.”
Her breath hitches.
“There were two of them,” I continue, and my jaw clenches at the memory. “Had you against the wall.”
“And you went on the attack. I just remember they stopped, and you—you saved me. Then you threw cab money at me and sent me on my way.”
“Aye. I was already in fight mode. Already covered in blood from the ring. I beat them and thought you were a boy.” I finally meet her eyes. “And then I looked at you. Saw how terrified you were. Saw how young you were. Saw that youweren’ta boy, and got scared that someone would think I was hurting you or something…” I touch my chest, where it still aches when I think about that moment.
“I thought you were going to kill me too,” she whispers.
“I know. I could see it in your eyes. But I couldn't forget you. Your face. The way you looked at me, like I was a monster but also… saved. I had to know if you were okay. So I looked up your address the next morning. Made sure you got there safe.”
“And then?”
“And then I couldn't stop. I told myself I'd just check on you once more. Make sure you were really okay. But once became twice, then became every day. I was addicted tomaking sure you were safe. That no one else tried to hurt you.”
“Six years,” she whispers.
“Six years of watching you become this brilliant, beautiful woman. Six years of falling more in love with you every single day. Six years of knowing I could never have you because of what I am.” I reach up and cup her face, needing to touch her. “And then I saw you were engaged to Crowning, and I couldn't—I couldn't let you go to him. Couldn't watch you die when I had the power to stop it.”
“So you took me.”
“So I took you. Most selfish thing I've ever done.” My thumb strokes her cheekbone. “And I'd do it again in a heartbeat.”
She leans into my touch, and I hold my breath… waiting.
“Kiss me,” she whispers.
“Bianca—”
“Kiss me, Ashland. Please.”
I don't need to be told twice.
This time, when my hands slide into her hair, when my body presses against hers, when my tongue sweeps into her mouth, she doesn't just respond—she claims me right back.
Her hands fist in my shirt, pulling me closer. Her body arches into mine. Little sounds escape her throat that make me want to throw every good intention out the window.
When we finally break apart, we're both panting.
“Teach me,” she whispers.
“Teach you what?”
“Teach me to fall in love back.”
“I don’t know how.”
“Let’s try.”
This time, I don't hold back. I let her feel the depth of what I want. Let my hands wander over her hips, her waist, the curve of her arse.
She melts into me, and Christ, having her like this, willing and wanting, is better than years of fantasies.
“Ashland.” She gasps between kisses. “I want—I didn’t realize how much I… wanted to be wanted.”
