Page 213 of Revv

“How bad?”

His mouth twists, but there’s no humor in it.

“Bad enough security had to drag me off him and the cops put me in a cruiser.”

For a second, neither of us says anything, and all I can think about is Lena, Revel at thirteen, and some sick fuck standing in a grocery store years later acting like none of it mattered.

Then the rest of the night starts clicking into place—the calls, the unread messages, all that silence. It all starts making sense.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

His eyes lift to mine immediately. “I only got one call, and I called Lena.” His jaw tightens. “Cece, I’m sorry, I just—”

“Shh.” I step closer and put my hand against his chest. “It’s okay.”

He looks at me like he’s waiting for the part where I get mad.

“I mean it, Papi. It’s okay. I get why you called her.”

His shoulders drop a little, but the guilt is still all over his face.

“I had to tell her he was back,” he says quietly. “I had to be the one to do it.”

“I know.” I rub my thumb over his shirt once, softer now. “And you were right.”

He exhales, rough and uneven, and for the first time since he walked through my door, some of that tension finally leaves him.

I look up at him. “I was scared and pissed and losing my fucking mind, but I’m not mad about that. Not even a little.”

His eyes stay on mine.

“Okay?”

He nods once.

“Okay.”

“The chase was never the fucking point.”

I go still.

His thumbs brush beneath my eyes while he stares straight into me.

“Yeah, chasing your stubborn ass was fun, but you know what gets me worse now? Waking up next to you. Watching you make coffee in my shirt. Listening to you argue with your cat like he understands every word. You controlling the music all the time, stealing my food, reaching for my hand without even thinking about it.” His mouth pulls slightly, but there’s nothing cocky about it. “I wanted you before I had you, Cece. But I’m fucking gone for you now that I actually have you.”

My throat tightens painfully.

“You don’t get to fix this by saying pretty shit.”

“I’m not trying to fix it with words.” His forehead almost touches mine. “I’m trying to make sure you understand that tonight wasn’t me leaving.”

I hold his stare, anger still burning under everything else.

“Do you know how fucking scared I was?”

That wipes the last trace of softness from his mouth.

“I thought something happened to you, and then I started thinking maybe nothing happened, which was somehow worse because then it meant you just didn’t care.”