The air thickens.
“The bathroom’s yours, baby” I say evenly. “Take your time.” I slide my arm around her waist, drawing her against my side as she goes to move past. “Since I came back… there’s a darkness in me I can’t pretend isn’t there anymore,” I murmur quietly. “The things I’m willing to do to keep you safe… the lines I’ll cross without hesitation… they’ve unlocked parts of me I spent a long time keeping buried.”
My hand tightens slightly at her hip as I look down at her.
“But you need to understand something, Seraphina.” My voice softens, though the certainty in it never wavers. “You are the only person in this world who will never need to fear that darkness. Not from me. Not ever.”
I brush my thumb slowly against her side, grounding myself in the simple reality of her being here.
“Whatever I become… whatever I have to do… it will always be for you. I would spend my last breath making sure you still hadyours, and there isn’t a thing you could ask of me that I wouldn’t give.”
I’m not sure why the words spill out so suddenly, all at once in a rush of emotion, but I mean them. Every one.
I feel completely exposed—like flayed skin, exposed nerves.
But I had to say them.
She closes the remaining distance between us and presses her lips to mine. “I know, I trust you with my life, Trey. I’ve only ever felt safe with you.”
She accepts my darkness as much as my devotion. The thought of her standing in that shadow without fear does something profound to me.My sweet church girl has her claws sunk in deep enough to reach parts of me no one else has ever touched.
She stares into the darkness and doesn’t flinch, doesn’t blink.
Christ, I don’t know what I could have done to deserve her in my life.
I don’t want to hide anything from her.
While she gets ready for the evening, I change with the same quiet efficiency I bring to everything else. Black shirt. Tailored. Sleeves rolled just enough to expose my tattooed forearms. I need to look composed. I need tofeelcomposed.
Because if she comes out looking the way I suspect she will, composure may be the only thing standing between me and reckless behavior.
The bathroom door opens.
For a moment, I forget how to breathe.
The dress molds to her body like it was designed for no one else. Lace tracing her curves, the hem daring in a way that promises trouble, her legs long and bare beneath it. Her hair down, curls wild and free.
“Fuck,” I say quietly, the word slipping free before I can temper it.
She walks toward me, steady and self-assured.
“Is it too much?” she asks.
I close the distance between us and let my hands settle at her hips, feeling the delicate lace beneath my palms. “No,” I tell her, my voice lower now. “It’s exactly enough.”
My pulse starts to climb, tension coiling tight in my core. My freshly closed wounds threaten to split open.
Fuck, I would bleed for you. Again and again…
A knock interrupts us, and I force myself to step back before I forget there’s an entire world beyond this room.
Just when I’m considering convincing her into a two-toe shuffle, the horizontal lambada.
Chace enters first, already wearing that amused expression that says he expects chaos wherever we go. His gaze lands on her and he exhales a laugh.
“Congratulations, Seraphina. You’ve officially become Helen of Troy. You’re a vision.”
Sam follows, offering a low whistle of approval, and Logan steps in behind Mac. Even Mac, calm now and settled at Logan’s side, smiles warmly at Seraphina.
