“I hated leaving you last night.”

  “Thank you for giving me time… Last night was a lot.”

  “I know.” His lips ghost over my skin. “You must’ve been exhausted. You slept so beautifully.”

  I guess I’m just ignoring the fact that he was either in my apartment or watching me through those cameras like it’s normal, and this is just what we do now.

  “You can’t go to James’s.”

  I don’t like how he says it or the way it digs into the part of me that still wants to believe I have control over my own life, and he knows it.

  “Don’t,” he warns, as if he can feel my thoughts start to shift. “Don’t pull away—not even in your head. You know what I told you. And you know there’s something off about it, or you wouldn’t be standing here letting me hold you. You’d be telling me to go fuck myself.”

  “It’s just business, Phoenix.”

  “It’s not for him.” His mouth is at my ear now. “Do you really think James Lawson answers to anyone?”

  Okay… so he may have a point.

  “His intentions for you go way beyond that brilliant brain of yours, and you know it.”

  “I would never…”

  “He would, and I’ve already been warned I can’t lay a hand on his pretty-boy head unless I feel like getting thrown in jail.”

  “Warned by who?”

  “Lucien.”

  “I have no idea who that is.”

  “He’s a friend. Well, he’s more like a brother. He does what I do, but he deals with people even I won’t touch.”

  “I didn’t realize you had friends.”

  “He and his brother, Cain… They know everything about me. No one knows me the way you do, but I’ve let them get close.”

  “Do they know about me?”

  “Baby, they’ve been watching over you since the day I realized I couldn’t be everywhere at once.” His arms tighten around me. “Like when I had to go see my mom. You think I’d leave you completely alone?”

  I spin in his arms and glare up at him because he must’ve lost his damn mind.

  “Okay. It’s one thing to know you stalk me—fine, whatever, we’re already in that mess—but it’s a whole other level of screwed up to bring in people I don’t know to watch me.”

  “It’s not like that.” His jaw ticks, but there’s no apology in his eyes. “I’d never give them access to your life, not really. They just keep watch and make sure no one gets too close when I can’t be there.”

  “You can’t just⁠—”

  “I can, and I will again if it gives me peace of mind.” He leans down, his eyes boring into mine. “You wanna be pissed? Fine. Be pissed. But don’t expect me to feel bad about it because honestly, I’d chip your tooth and hide a fucking tracker in it if you let me.”

  “The way I would kick your ass if you ever⁠—”

  “Like I said, you’d have one if you let me, but I don’t think you’re quite there yet.”

  What.

  The actual.

  Fuck?

  I need to remember that this is just who Phoenix is.

  This is the full package.

  Possessive, deranged, and morally questionable on a good day, yet somehow, I can’t imagine a life without him.

  “Anyway,” he murmurs, leaning down to press a kiss to my forehead, “I’ll pick you up from here later.”

  “I have a car.”

  “We’re not going in your car.”

  “Okay…”

  “Just trust me.” His eyes hold mine, silver burning into gold. “You’re going to love it. I promise.”

  Hours later, after most of the office has emptied and I’ve been staring blankly at my screen for way too long, my phone vibrates on the desk.

  PHOENIX: I’m outside, pretty girl.

  I’m expecting… I don’t know, a rideshare. Maybe he’s got some obnoxious sports car waiting outside.

  What I’m not expecting is him straddling a motorcycle like he stepped out of every biker fantasy I’ve ever had—helmet on, thighs spread around polished black metal, dangling a second helmet from his fingers, which is obviously meant for me.

  I swear, I almost come right there on the pavement. Just a spontaneous orgasm by real-life thirst trap.

  “You ready, baby?”

  “No… I mean, yeah. Holy shit. If you’d shown up like this earlier, I probably would’ve given in a hell of a lot faster.”

  He laughs and swings off the bike, stepping into my space in a way that makes my stomach flip. He takes the helmet and slides it over my head, his fingers careful as he fastens the strap beneath my chin.

  “Now, unless I missed something,” he murmurs, his eyes holding mine through the visor, “I don’t think you’ve ever ridden as some douchebag’s backpack before.”

  “I haven’t.”

  “Good… another first I get to give you.”

  Phoenix swings back onto the bike, then holds a hand out to me over his shoulder. I take it, and he pulls me forward, helping me climb on behind him. The second I’m settled, his hand drops down to rest on my thigh while the other grips the handlebar.

  “Get those arms around me, baby, and don’t let go.”

  I wrap my arms around his waist, pressing my chest against his back, and I feel him exhale.

  It’s the closeness.

  He craves it.

  “Tighter,” he commands, and I lock my hands together over his abs, my fingers fisting the soft fabric of his hoodie.

  His hand covers mine briefly, just long enough to squeeze. A silent thank-you, or maybe a warning to prepare me for what’s coming.

  “Please don’t kill us,” I mutter.

  “Before I know how it feels to fuck someone? You crazy?”

  I slap the side of his helmet, hard enough to jolt him and make his laugh rumble through both of us. I feel it everywhere, especially where my body’s pressed flush against his. My thighs tighten automatically, and my grip on his hoodie tightens as jealousy flares hot inside me.

  “You mean how it feels to fuck me.”

  He goes still for a heartbeat, and a low, throaty groan escapes him—one that has no business being that hot.

  “You have no idea how hard it gets me knowing you’re jealous.” I can practically hear the smug satisfaction in his voice. “I knew it was in there, my beautiful, possessive girl.”

  Before I can get a word out, the engine roars louder, and then we’re flying. The city blurs around us as Phoenix weaves through traffic like he owns the street, and death couldn’t touch him if it tried.

  The speed, the danger, the way I can feel every shift of his muscles as he controls the bike like it’s an extension of himself. It’s intoxicating. The cold winter wind lashes at my skin, but I’ve never felt more alive than I do right now with my arms around him, and God help me, I don’t ever want to let go.

  Chapter 15

  Phoenix

  “You mean how it feels to fuck me.”

  I’ve been waiting my entire life for her to feel that violent urge to claim me as hers, and the second she unintentionally handed me everything I’ve ever wanted, I was ruined.

  I wanted to stop the bike and haul her ass off it just so I could fuck her anywhere and prove that yes, fuck yes, it’s only ever, and could only ever, be her.

  Every thought I’ve ever had about sex, intimacy, and connection has had her face, her body, and her voice, and when I finally use my cock, it won’t be just for pleasure. It’ll be for possession.

  I’ve been ready for the past twenty minutes, but I wait. I’m watching her through the camera feed, and I swear she must forget sometimes that I check in on her, because the way she’s nervously pacing her apartment, wrapped up in her coat with her hands fidgeting at her sides, is so fucking adorable it makes my chest ache.

  She agreed to a date. She said yes, not to the boy who fucked it all up back then, but to the man I am now.

  I already know how tonight ends. There’s no version of this where we don’t end up skin-to-skin and closer than we’ve ever been, where I’m reshaped and remade into something even more devoted to her than I already am.

  I’m not crossing my virginity off a list, getting it over with, or whatever bullshit people say when they talk about their first time. It’s about being as close as two people can possibly get. It’s about feeling what she’s been hiding from herself—love. Dark, messy, all-consuming, soul-binding love that terrifies her because she knows that once we cross this line, there’s no going back. Tonight, I’m going to tear it out of her, inch by inch, kiss by kiss, thrust by fucking thrust, until she stops fighting what she feels.

  I knock on her door for what is only the second time in my life, but it feels like the first time everything might finally fall into place.

  Nothing prepares me for seeing her standing in the doorway, backlit by the soft glow of her apartment, looking at me like I’m pure trouble but she wants me around anyway—the way she used to look at me. It’s the same look she’d give me when I used to sneak out and show up at her trailer late at night, my boots crunching gravel too loud, my heart pounding because we both knew I was doing something I wasn’t supposed to be doing just by being there. I’d tap on her window, and she’d open it every single time, knowing I was coming for her.

  I wasn’t saving her back then. I knew that. We both did. I was just stealing her for a few hours so we could pretend we were more than two broken kids with nowhere to go.

  I didn’t know how to keep her back then, and it killed me.

  But I do now.

  She looks down, and the second she realizes what’s in my hand, her entire face lights up.

  “I should’ve given it back sooner, back in Indiana. That’s on me.”

  I hold the black book out, and she takes it carefully, her fingertips brushing mine so lightly it should feel like nothing, but I feel everything.

  I always do when she touches me.

  “Thank you,” she whispers before laying it carefully on the side table beside the door.

  “Don’t… I stole it and kept it. You don’t thank me for shit like that.” I shake my head, swallowing hard. “But what I do need is for you to come with me.”

  I hold my hand out, and she takes it willingly. Her fingers slide between mine, and Jesus Christ, I wasn’t prepared for how it feels.

  Everything I’ve waited for, every line I’ve crossed, and every boundary I’ve obliterated has led to this.

  “Where are we going?” she asks as I pull her toward the emergency exit, the metal door rattling as I shove it open.

  “The roof,” I tell her, without looking back. “Just trust me.”

  She huffs a laugh as we hit the stairwell, but there’s a nervousness beneath it, and I don’t miss it.

  “You’re going to push me, aren’t you? That’s how this ends. You hurt everyone else, lull me into a false sense of security, and then boom. Biggest drop possible.” She laughs again, but that tiny hitch in it makes something inside me go cold.

  I stop so abruptly that she almost slams into me. I turn fast, catching her before she can stumble, my hands coming up to frame her face.

  “Look at me, baby.” My thumbs brush her cheeks, desperate for her to hear me. “If there’s any part of you that believes I could ever hurt a single hair on that gorgeous fucking head, then I’ll take you back to your apartment right now, and I’ll walk away.”

  It would hollow me out until there’s nothing left but the man I could’ve been if she’d just let me love her, but for her, I’d do it.

  “I swear to you, Shannen, if you ever feared me… that’s what would end this. Not you hating me. Not someone else touching you. That.”

  Her fingers grip the hem of my shirt, her nails dancing lightly over my abs through the fabric, trying to ground me before I spiral completely.

  “I know I’ve done fucked-up things. I know what I am, but don’t ever confuse what I’d do for you with what I’d do to you.”

  “I know,” she says, nodding, and god, I’m so close to kissing her it’s almost painful.

  But I don’t.

  I force myself to hold back because I want to do this right. For once in my life, I want to do right by her, and from what I can gather, the kiss comes at the end of the date.

  You don’t rush it.

  You earn it.

  “You’re not a bad person, Phoenix. You’ve got… many red flags, and fuck me, you’ve done some straight-up life-in-prison type of shit. But I know you. I know where it comes from.”

  I brush my lips across her forehead, then quietly lead her up to the roof, never once letting go of her hand. I step out ahead of her, still holding her tight, and she follows.

  Slowly, she straightens, her eyes sweeping across the rooftop.

  Heaters glow warm against the cold night. Pillows and blankets are arranged carefully after I googled “How to make a rooftop look romantic and not desperate.” Wine, takeout containers—all that cliché book-boyfriend shit I spent hours setting up. And in the background, all her favorite songs play quietly—songs I pulled from her recent social media posts and the ones she repeats on a loop when she’s home alone. She doesn’t say anything. She just stands there, spinning in slow circles, taking it all in.

  In my head, I’m losing it, screaming, Please like it, please let this be enough that you don’t run from me again.

  “Phoenix—” she breathes out, still looking around with wide eyes. “I… this is⁠—”

  “It’s okay?”

  “It’s perfect,” she whispers, her gold eyes shining as they finally meet mine. “This is… beautiful.”

  I step toward her and wrap my arms around her, pulling her close because the tip of her nose is already turning pink from the cold. The last thing I need is to give her pneumonia on our first real date.

  “I know we can’t lie back and watch the stars here the way we used to when we were kids.” I glance up at the polluted, starless sky. “So if I can’t give you the stars above us, then the least I can do is bring you high enough to see the ones below.”

  The city stretches out before us like another universe. Skyscrapers glow like constellations, and headlights move like shooting stars, while windows flicker like distant galaxies mid-explosion.

  We used to count stars.

  Now we count lights.

  Different sky, same feeling.

  Same girl.

  “There… that’s our starlight now.”

  “Ours,” she whispers.

  One four-letter word, and I’m ready to drag her into the nearest chapel and put a ring on her finger before she can blink. My mind is already rewriting the next fifty years as if it’s a done deal—rings, vows, my name replacing hers, her in my bed every night for the rest of our lives.

  I force myself to breathe and to look like a man with patience, not one who’s two seconds away from dropping to his knees and begging her to let me chain her to my side for the rest of her life.

  Obviously, I ordered Shannen’s favorite Chinese.

  She doesn’t say anything at first; she just raises an eyebrow when she sees the spread. The noodles, the rice, the dumplings, all of it. Everything but the mushroom chop suey, because even I have my limits.

  “Let me guess.” She smirks, popping the lid off a container. “You still think I’m a savage for eating mushrooms.”

  “Think?” I laugh, leaning back and tearing open a spring roll wrapper. “No, baby. I know you are.”

  She rolls her eyes with a small laugh. “It’s a vegetable.”

  “No, it’s a fungus.”

  By the time the food is spread out around us in plastic containers, the bottle of wine on her side of the blanket is already a glass down.

  Hers, not mine—because I’ll never go near it. Not after the shitshow of a childhood where the only thing more predictable than her parents’ next high was the bruise it’d leave behind on her precious skin.

  We eat and talk, falling into this way with each other that feels as if we never lost all that time. We laugh the way we used to, and maybe it’s nothing, maybe it’s just one dinner on a rooftop, but I can feel it. She’s right here with me, not just physically, but in every way that matters.

  She’s giving this a chance and letting herself have tonight. One night to feel out the version of me she used to know—the one she trusted without question—and maybe she’s hoping to find that Phoenix again.

  “Tell me about college… You didn’t play for long, did you?” I shake my head, still propped up on one elbow, my legs stretched out in front of me while she sits cross-legged, turned toward me like we’re fifteen again and the rest of the world doesn’t exist.

  “I’ll be honest, baby. I couldn’t get my mind off you, so no, I didn’t. I didn’t give a shit about the game or school because nothing in my life mattered after I lost you.”

  “You didn’t even try?” she asks, genuinely surprised. “I know you, Phoenix. You would’ve pushed yourself to fit wherever you thought you needed to.”

  “That was me once. Before I fucked everything up. After that, I never tried to fit in again.”

  I sit up straighter, leaning closer to her. “I don’t fit anywhere you’re not. That’s not me being dramatic. That’s just… fact. Some people wake up every day for their dream careers, or their families, or whatever the fuck else gives their life meaning. I’ve been waking up every day hoping you’ll look at me the way you are right now.”

  “There has to be more you want.”

  “You wanna know my dream life?” She nods, and something in her eyes tells me she’s been waiting for this. “Financially, I’m set. I’ve made more than I should have, doing things most people don’t even know exist, but I like it. I like digging through people’s shit, finding out what they really hide and what keeps them awake, wondering if someone’s gonna find it. When you know the truth, you own the fucking room. You control the play, and when you care about someone enough, that kind of control becomes protection.”