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“I’m so sorry, love,” I mumble into her hair.

Emotions that I thought I no longer possessed come crashing into me so heavily that I can hardly breathe under the pressure. The weight on my chest is nearly suffocating, and I think that I’ll descend into panic at any second. I can’t place this foreign emotion as it swirls between the blacks and grays of my soul. It’s so bright, almost blinding, and I want to look away.

Lydia must sense my apprehension as she lifts her head and stares up at me. I lock onto her red-rimmed, strikingly blue eyes like they’re a goddamn lifeline. And all at once, the insurmountable pressure cracks wide open. The only thing left in the wake is absolute clarity. I know exactly how I feel about Lydia Aston, and maybe I’ve known it all along.

“Callum?” she asks, her eyes searching mine for unspoken answers.

I don’t speak but instead choose to show her as I lift my palm to her cheek. My thumb brushes at a stray tear before I lean down, slowly bringing my lips to hers. The feel of her mouth against mine is like kryptonite to my shadows, weakening every dark thought until all I can sense is her light. I’m done fighting. I’m done thinking. I’ve lost entirely too much time with her as it is.

Lydia pauses briefly, the shock of my actions registering as she moves her mouth against mine. She brushes her tongue against my lower lip on a soft moan, seeking entry until our tongues collide in a familiar dance. I groan when she nibbles my lower lip, tugging her up until she’s straddling me. Her hands reach up and grab my hair, tugging a fistful as the kiss deepens. Holy shit, I can barely think straight as she grinds against me shamelessly, taking everything she can from this moment.

I have half a mind to consider that this is the last place I’d prefer to be doing this in. The thought escapes me when I imagine all of the positions I could have her in right now. I run my hands over the small of her back and tug her against me, needing her closer. When her moans fill my mouth, I almost fucking lose it. Almost.

“Lydia,” I say, breathless. “Not here.” She pulls back, assessing me before she glances around the room and nods.

“Ew, you’re so right,” she says, the light returning to her eyes. “Let’s get out of here, sunshine.”

I nod, lifting her off of me. She stares down, smiling in that way that always seems to make everything wrong feel right. I stare back, unable to blink or breathe or formulate one single coherent thought.

“What?” she asks, laughing almost nervously.

A blush creeps into her cheeks for the faintest moment, and I pocket that information for later. My little siren does get shy, after all.

“Oh, nothing,” I say, smiling like a damn fool. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

I stand, holding out a hand to her. Her eyes narrow as she stares down at it. I’m going to have to work hard to make her realize she doesn’t always have to rely on herself. I want to help her. I want to take care of her. And right now, I want to fucking hold her hand while we leave this godforsaken place.

“Don’t make me throw you over my shoulder, love,” I say, my tone daring.

“Fine.” She sighs, slapping her hand into mine. “But only because I can’t stand to be in this creepy place for a second longer.”

I pull Lydia into the hallway, and we both freeze, realizing that the masked piece of shit is nowhere in sight. Fuck. I was so distracted that I forgot he was out here. And now, he’s most definitely not where I left him.

“Hurry,” I say, tugging her down the hallway.

We both jump when music starts filtering overhead. Lydia glances up at the ceiling, her features etched in worry. When she returns her gaze to mine, I watch the fear slowly morph into something that highly resembles desire. My fucking cock hardens immediately, obviously not reading the goddamn room.

Not now, not now, not now.

I immediately recognize the frequency as the same one from Reverb’s VIP event. I wasn’t affected by it then, but Lydia definitely was. What the fuck is this guy playing at?

“Lydia,” I warn, tugging on her hand.

I attempt to guide her toward the exit, but she’s resisting me. She shrugs her hand out of mine, placing both of her palms on my chest and pushing until I’m backed into the nearby wall of the hallway.

“Hey there, big guy,” she says, staring up at me through hooded, bend-me-over eyes.

Fuuuck. She runs her hands under my shirt and up my chest, leaving goose bumps everywhere her skin touches. Her hands roam down my chest, over my abdomen, and all the way to the waistband of my pants—where she decides to hook her goddamn fingers.

“Does little grumpy pants want to come out and play?” she teases, running the pads of her fingers dangerously close to the base of my cock.

Shit, I am so fucked.

“Nothing little about it, love,” I say. I instantly regret the words when they only add fuel to the rapidly burning fire in her devious eyes.

“Mmm, we’ll see about that,” she taunts, smiling up at me like the little siren that she is.

She pushes her hand down my pants until it’s wrapped halfway around my swollen cock. I groan, pressing my head into the wall behind me and shifting my hips forward only slightly. Goddamn, it feels so fucking good. She fists my cock in her small hand, running it up and down and up and—