MONDAY — SAN JUAN, PUERTO RICO
Now playing: Wild Horses - The Sundays
MyeyesburnedwhenSilas shook my shoulder.
I groaned, fully intending to bury my face deeper into the hotel pillow…or smother him with it. The digital clock on the nightstand glared a violent neon red: 5:14 AM.
His large hand rubbed the center of my back. “Cal,” Silas whispered. “Come on. Get up. We’re going to go do something.”
“No, we aren’t,” I roughly mumbled into the cotton pillowcase. “My ass hurts. Everything hurts. I’m not moving until housekeeping physically evicts us.”
The mattress shifted as Silas sat up. “It’s going to hurt worse if you stay in that position, old man. Pick your poison.” Straddling my hips, he playfully thrusted his pelvis against me.
I cracked one eye open, twisting my head to glare at the fuzzy shape of his silhouette. Hidden in shadow, the moonlight glowing around him, he looked like a god. “Get the fuck off me,” I groaned. After the way he used me last night, the idea of round two was a hard pass. My body actually fucking ached from it.
“I’ll be gentle,” he cooed, leaning down to kiss the side of my neck.
“You’re a damn liar.” I shifted to push his head away. “If I get out of this bed, you owe me head beforeour flight tomorrow.”
Silas let out a low, breathy laugh that sent vibrations straight into my chest. He leaned down, pressing a lingering and completely-devoted kiss to my bare shoulder. “That’s a reward, Kincaid. Not a punishment. Now, put some shorts on.”
With a push off the mattress, his footsteps retreated into the bathroom. The door clicked shut, leaving me alone in the dim light of the suite. Slowly, I sat up, my battered joints protesting. I dragged a hand down my face, my eyes catching on the gold plates of the championship belt sitting on the desk. All week, I’d been mourning the end of my reign, terrified of what my legacy in this business would be if I wasn't the guy at the top of the card. But sitting here in the quiet, listening to the muffled sound of Silas moving around in the bathroom, my mind was finally calm.
There’s only one thing that matters anymore.
My eyes drifted from the belt to the black duffel bag sitting on the luggage rack. The hesitation I’d been carrying, the fear of the corporate backlash and the press, suddenly felt entirely insignificant. I’ve stepped back from the spotlight, so what the fuck is the point of still hiding in the shadows? We couldactuallydo this. We could come out, maybe within the next year, or in two. Hell, maybe tomorrow. It didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was settling down with the man in the next room.
I pushed off the bed and walked over to the bag, pulling out the black velvet box.
It didn’t feel like a terrifying weight anymore. It felt like a promise,a lifetime.The sudden, explosive fuel to a fire. I’m ready. For him, for this life. For us to start our forever.
Ten minutes later, we were sneaking through the creepily quiet lobby of the resort. The contrast to Friday afternoon was staggering. The corporate circus was gone, and the fans were sleeping off the high of Heatwave. The cameras, the makeup tents, the suffocating pressure of the company, it had all vanished.
When we pushed through the glass doors, the island was still wrapped in the dark of early morning, illuminated only by the faint silver glow of the moon hiding behind thin clouds.
Silas walked a straight line from the hotel to the beach, stripping off his hoodie in stride before wading into the Atlantic in his board shorts. I followed his lead, the water was cool at first, a sharp shock to the system, but it quickly warmed, matching the Caribbean air.
Silas stopped at his waist and turned to face me. Without the blinding glare of the sun or the prying eyes of the crew, his face held a softness reserved only for me. The feral, possessive, and bloody World Champion from last night was completely gone, leaving the man I loved.
“It’s dark,” Silas murmured, his voice barely carrying over the rhythmic crash of the waves. He reached out under the water, his fingers finding mine and tangling together. “Nobody can see us out here. We can just be us.”
I didn’t hesitate. I closed the distance between us, pulling him until his chest bumped against mine. I tilted my chin to kiss him, slow, deep, and tender. There was no performative rivalry to maintain, no empty threats to whisper for the sake of a character. We were just two people with an overwhelming, soul-deep adoration for each other.
“Just us,” I promised against his lips, resting my forehead against his.
We stood there for a long time, the gentle pull of the tide rocking us back and forth in the pitch-black water, admiring the quiet beauty of the island before dawn.
“I asked him,” Silas said suddenly. His voice was quiet, almost fragile.
I pulled back just enough to look at his face. “Asked who what?”
“Maverick.” Silas swallowed hard, his thumb tracing the back of my hand under the water. He turned his head, looking out at the endless horizon that stretched across the ocean. “I asked him before we left for this trip.”
My brow furrowed. “Asked him what, Si?”
“Her name.”
I went completely still, and my next breath hitched in my chest. He didn’t have to elaborate any further. I already knew what he meant.His mom.
