Page 104 of The Ache That Stayed

I grabbed my jeans off the floor and pulled them on quickly.

Fuck.

He’d seen me in my underwear. Thank God they were simple cotton panties and not a pair of thongs. That would’ve made this even worse.

I fixed my clothes, my hair. Anything to avoid looking at him. The room felt crowded, though it was just the two of us. Walls closing in, making it too full of him and nothing else.

Because what the hell was that?

I had been holding him. All night, or maybe just since the nightmare broke. The strange part was how easy it felt.

No awkwardness. No hesitation. No quiet voice questioning me or telling me to pull away. It just felt—normal.

The realisation hit like a physical blow, sending a shudder straight through me. An uncomfortable feeling settled low in my stomach. I turned around and found him staring. At my ass.

“Are you done staring at my ass?”

He leaned back, arms behind his head, completely unbothered.

“Well, I wouldn’t mind—”

“Don’t finish that sentence.” I held up a hand. “Please.”

He smiled. Infuriatingly. God, this man was insufferable.

“I think we should get going,” I said, forcing my voice into a neutral and controlled tone. “Before the weather decides to act up again.”

His gaze didn’t move. Didn’t soften.

“If you had better sense,” he said lazily, “you would’ve called instead of getting yourself stranded.”

I rolled my eyes, turning away before the irritation on my face gave me away. I didn’t want to do this again. Not now. Not after everything.

After that.

Last night sat between us, unspoken but loud.

Fine, I should’ve called.

But in my defence, the world had flipped upside down in a matter of hours, completely running me over. Too much had happened in too little time, leaving no room for me to process everything that had gone down.

Julian. The gallery. Him.

A sharp knot clamped down in my gut.

And then—Marcello.

Shit.

I grabbed my phone, checking it quickly. No missed calls.

No unread texts. Relief came sharp. Immediate. Followed by a sickening wave of guilt. I typed out a quick message.

My thumb hovered over the screen for a second before I locked it. Because I didn’t even know what I would say when I did.

I just needed this day to end.

No—