I stare at him. Frustration. Fear. Confusion. All of it tangles together. And under it, that same steady feeling. That same pull I don’t understand. “This is insane,” I whisper.
“Yeah.” The agreement throws me off. “You’re still coming,” he adds.
I let out a breath that feels like I’m giving something up. Not everything. Not even close. But something. “Fine,” I say finally. “For now.”
“For now,” he echoes with a slight smile. But it doesn’t sound temporary when he says it.
And that…
That might be the most terrifying part of all.
I don’t wake up like this.
Not ever.
The first thing I register isn’t the room. It isn’t the faint light slipping through the edge of the curtains or the low hum of the clubhouse starting to come alive downstairs.
It’s her. Warm. Curled into me like she belongs there.
My arm is wrapped around her waist, her back pressed against my chest, her leg tangled with mine like it happened naturally instead of being something that should feel foreign. Her hair is a mess against my pillow, strands brushing my jaw every time she breathes. Slow. Even. Alive. Everything in me stills. Not goes quiet. That’s not the right word.
It settles.
Like something inside me that’s always moving, always calculating, always waiting for the next problem to hit just… stops. For the first time in a long fucking time, there’s no edge. No tension riding under my skin. No immediate scan of threats, exits, angles.
Just, her.
I don’t move. I don’t want to break it. That’s new too.I’ve had women in this bed before. Plenty. Quick, meaningless, forgettable. They leave before the I bother getting fully dressed. They’ve asked to stay but I have never entertained women outside of a quick fuck. I don’t do this. Don’t wake up with someone in my arms like it means something. Don’t let anyone get close enough to settle into me like this.
And yet… she’s here.
And sometime during the night, she moved closer. Not away. Closer.
I replay it without thinking.
The way she must’ve shifted in her sleep. The way her body instinctively sought warmth, found it, stayed. The way she tucked into me like her system recognized something before her mind could fight it. My hand tightens slightly at her hip. She doesn’t pull away. Doesn’t tense. She breathes in deeper, like she’s settling further.
Mine.
The word isn’t a thought. It’s a fact. I don’t question it. Don’t analyze it. Don’t try to break it apart into something cleaner, something that makes more sense. It is what it is. She’s mine. And I’m not letting that change.
Her body jolts suddenly. Sharp. Her breath catches hard, dragging in like she’s coming up from under something deep and dark. Her hand grips my arm instinctively, nails digging in just enough to register.
“Hey—”
Her eyes snap open. Wide. Panic hits her fast.
I feel it in the way her body goes rigid, in the way her breathing spikes, in the way her gaze darts around the room like she’s trying to piece together where the hell she is before something bad happens again.
“Easy,” I say, tightening my hold just enough to ground her, not trap her. “You’re good. I’ve got you.”
Her chest rises and falls too fast. Her eyes find mine. And for a second, she freezes. Not because she’s calm. Because she’s deciding.
I hold her gaze. Don’t move. Don’t crowd. Don’t give her anything unpredictable to react to. “You’re safe,” I tell her.
Her breathing stutters. Her grip on my arm tightens. Then slowly, it eases. Not gone. Not even close. But less. Her shoulders drop a fraction. Her eyes search my face like she’s looking for something specific, something she can latch onto, something that either confirms or breaks what I just said. “I believe you,” she whispers. The words land harder than they should. Because she shouldn’t. Not like this. Not yet. “But I don’t know why,” she adds, her voice quieter now.
I nod once. “You don’t need to yet.”
