Page 136 of Broken Blades

This wasn't temporary. This wasn't pretend. This was something neither of us had permission to want but had claimed, anyway.

We dried off in silence. He dressed first—jeans, fitted shirt, the familiar motions of a man preparing to face the world. I watched from the bed, wrapped in a towel, damp hair falling over my shoulders. He caught me staring and paused with his hand on his belt.

For a long moment, he just looked at me. Really looked. Like he was trying to commit every detail to memory—the flush still warming my cheeks, the marks he'd left on my throat, the way the towel slipped slightly when I shifted. His gaze was heavy, possessive, and something else I didn't have words for.

His phone buzzed. Practice. Reality crashing back in.

"I'll text you when I'm done."

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

He crossed to the bed, leaning down until his face was inches from mine. His hand cupped my jaw, thumb brushing my bottom lip. Then he kissed me—slow and lingering, like he was sealing something between us that couldn't be undone. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against mine for one breath. Two.

Then he left.

The front door clicked shut, and I sat there in the too-quiet house, wrapped in his towel, still tasting him on my lips.

My reflection caught in the mirror across the room—flushed skin, swollen mouth, eyes too bright. I looked like a woman who'd been thoroughly loved. Who'd given herself completely to someone she barely knew but somehow trusted more than anyone.

I looked like someone I didn't recognize.

And the terrifying part was—I liked her.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand, the vibration loud in the too-quiet house.

I reached for it, still wrapped in Wyatt's towel, my skin flushed and warm from the shower.

Merger party this weekend. Need you there.

My stomach dropped. The merger. The whole reason I'd ended up here in the first place. The reason Wyatt had ever looked at me twice.

I hesitated, thumb hovering over the screen. Then typed:

Okay. I'll bring Wyatt.

The response came almost instantly.

That's not a good idea. He has an away game anyway.

I frowned at the screen. Away game? Wyatt hadn't mentioned it.

We'll think about it.

Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.

Then the real message came.

What's going on with you and Wyatt?

My heart clenched. I stared at the question, memories from last night flooding back—his hands on my skin, his mouth on mine, the way he'd looked at me like I was something precious. The way he'd promised this morning that he wasn't letting me go.

It's not your business.

The three dots pulsed for what felt like an eternity.

Wyatt Garrison will hurt you.

He's using you.