Play with the Phantom (Midnight, #2)

by Amanda Richardson

I could tell him about the fact that every Sunday night since I was in high school, I spend a couple of hours writing and uploading monster erotica to a fan fiction site. Or I could tell him about the way I fall down conspiracy theory rabbit holes until I could probably write a dissertation on the Denver International Airport or the missing Roanoke colony. But those feel too personal, somehow.

Across the table, Asher clears his throat. “I don’t remember you being this talkative, Maddox.” Maddox finally, lazily, drags his gaze to his twin. “Maybe you just never listened.”

“Tell me, Ari, what exactly do you see in my brother?” Asher stiffens beside me. “What the hell is your problem, Maddox?” But Maddox just waits, eyes locked on to mine, expectant. I should brush it off. I should shut him down. But there’s something in his gaze that makes me hesitate—something dark, something knowing. Like he’s already decided he won’t like my answer. I wet my lips, placing my fork down carefully. “Asher is a good man,” I say evenly. Maddox tilts his head, studying me. “Good,” he echoes, as if tasting the word. “Safe.” I hesitate. “Yes.” His smirk is slow, like I just confirmed something for him. “You like safe, then?” Asher bristles. “Enough.” His tone lacks force, though, and I ignore the way my stomach twists—not just with unease, but with something closer to disappointment. Like a part of me was waiting for Asher to shut this down, to put Maddox in his place, to win this fight before it even started. But he doesn’t. And maybe, deep down, I already knew he wouldn’t. I keep my eyes in my lap, avoiding eye contact with Asher. Maddox ignores him, leaning in just slightly so that Hannah, Otto, and Asher can’t hear his next words. “You don’t strike me as someone who wants safe.” He’s so close that his breath brushes against my ear. My breath catches. There’s something about the way Maddox says it, the way his voice dips low like he’s exposing something I didn’t even know about myself. My fingers curl into my lap. “I don’t know what you mean,” I whisper, looki...

Maddox walks past me, plucking a dress off the rack and holding it up. “Try this.” I blink. “What?” His eyes meet mine, and before I can ask if he’s joking, he continues. “It’ll complement your eyes.” I let out a soft laugh, caught between amusement and pure disbelief. “Are you serious? You don’t even know my style.” His eyes drag lazily down my body, and the way he’s looking at me should be illegal. I feel the trail of electricity his gaze leaves on my skin, and I squirm uncomfortably under his gaze. “I know what’ll look good on you.”

“I could’ve paid for my own clothes,” I murmur as we step outside. “You could’ve,” he agrees easily, carrying the bags toward the car. “But you didn’t.” I scowl. “Because you didn’t give me a choice.” He pauses at the passenger door, glancing at me, his gaze steady. “You could’ve fought harder.” Heat prickles along my skin. I don’t know what to say to that, because the worst part is⁠— He’s right. I shouldn’t have enjoyed that as much as I did, the way he took control, the way he decided things without hesitation. It should bother me. It does bother me. I let him do it. And I don’t know why. “Also, the underwear is totally inappropriate.” He smirks, unlocking the car. “Exactly why I picked it.” Asshole.

“Did he— Was he nice to you, at least?” I hesitate. Nice isn’t the word I’d use. Overpowering, commanding, intense. But I keep that to myself. “Yeah,” I say simply. “He was fine.” Asher exhales, nodding stiffly.

Trapped between a mother who’s already decided who I am, a boyfriend who speaks over me, and a man whose silence feels heavier than words.

“How long did those take?” I ask, nodding toward his tattoos. Maddox glances down at his arms, flexing his fingers slightly before letting them relax. “Years.” I trace the patterns with my eyes, drawn to the way the ink moves with the shift of his muscles. “They let you get tattoos in prison?” His expression doesn’t change, but something flickers behind his gaze. “Some.” I tilt my head, waiting. He exhales, running a hand through his damp hair. “Some of these came before. The rest… I earned.” Before. The word lingers in the air between us, and I get the distinct impression that before holds more weight than just a timeline. I press my lips together, my curiosity clawing at me. “How did you earn them?” His jaw tics slightly, and for a moment, I think he won’t answer. But then⁠— “Because I needed to remember the people I couldn’t save.” His voice is steady, but I hear the fracture underneath.

“Good girls crack the hardest,” he says absently, almost like he’s talking to himself. I swallow hard, something tight coiling low in my stomach. “I’m not⁠—” “A good girl?” Maddox cuts in smoothly. His eyes flick back to mine. I don’t like the way my pulse reacts. I don’t like the way my thighs clench with whatever the fuck is happening right now. I don’t like the way he says it like he already knows the answer. His stare lingers, watching me, waiting for me to prove him right.

“If Asher knew you were doing this out here…” Maddox laughs under his breath, low and unimpressed. “If Asher knew half the shit you were really thinking, he’d lose his mind.” I freeze. My pulse skips, then quickens, then skips again. “Excuse me?”

“You act like you’re content. Like you’ve got it all figured out. The steady job, the loyal boyfriend, the safe little life. But deep down?” He leans in, eyes flashing. “You’re fucking starving. For more. For someone to see you. For someone to take you seriously when you stop pretending you want this kind of life.” I tense, but I don’t look away. “You’ve been taught to accept less,” he murmurs. “To settle for whatever scraps people give you and call it love. But you don’t want scraps, do you, Ari? You never did. You just never thought you could ask for more.” I frown. “I’m not⁠—” “You do. Maybe it was your upbringing, or maybe it’s the fact that you’ve always had to be strong for your sisters. They’re younger than you, right?” I rear my head back in surprise that he remembers that. “You pretend you’re fine with it—pretend it’s easier that way—but deep down?” His voice a low rasp beneath the crash of the waves, and he sets the joint down on the metal railing. He crosses his arms, watching me with the same unreadable expression. Was this guy doing pull-ups all day in prison? Because his biceps could probably throw boulders over this railing. “You’re restless. You’re waiting for someone to give you permission to live the life you’ve always wanted. Truly wanted. Not the life you’re supposed to have… but the one you want more than your next breath.” Damn. The words land too close to home. Way too fucking close. I inhale sharply, crossing my arms to hide the way my fingers twitc...

“How did you know?” My voice is quieter than I mean it to be. “About the wish list.” He studies me for a beat, then shrugs, like the answer is obvious. “They’re not hard to find, for people who want to see them.” His voice is even, casual, but something about the way he says it makes my chest constrict. His gaze lingers on me, steady and unreadable. “Most people don’t pay attention. Not really. They hear what they want, see what’s convenient. But if you know where to look, what to listen for…” He trails off, his meaning clear. I swallow. “And you do?” His lips twitch. “For the things that matter, absolutely.” The words settle between us, heavy with something I can’t name.

“Whoever left it wanted you to know they knew you, but they weren’t interested in seeing your immediate response. However, based on what you’ve told me about the things Maddox has said and done…” He trails off. “There’s a good chance he’s your guy.” Something cold and heavy settles in my chest. Frankie frowns. “So you’re saying this is, like… some next-level stalker shit? From a guy who just got out of prison?” Dante doesn’t confirm or deny it. He just watches me. “Maybe. What’d he go to prison for?” Dante asks. The hair on my arms prickles. “I don’t actually know.” “Well, find out,” Frankie practically hisses. “And maybe stop ignoring red flags before you become the next Dateline episode.” “So comforting,” I tell her, my voice sarcastic. A text comes through, and I frown at my screen. “I should go. Asher just texted me. I’ll keep you updated, okay? And if they find my body in a ditch… well, tell them I always did have a thing for the villain.” Frankie groans. “Jesus Christ. You’re the exact kind of girl they make those ‘why didn’t she just leave?’ documentaries about.”

“Stay right there,” he growls, his voice rough, almost desperate as it feathers against my aching core. His fingers dig into my thighs, keeping me exactly where he wants me—where he needs me. “You don’t run from this, Ari. Not when I’ve been starving for you. Not when I need you more than my next fucking breath.”

“You want me to say it, don’t you?” My stomach flips. “Say what?” His thumb brushes the underside of my breast, teasing. Not touching, but close enough that my breath catches. “All the things you like. All the things he never bothered to learn.” I go still. He chuckles, his breath warm against my temple as he leans in. “Poor thing. You must be so wound up after two years of missionary and silence.” Heat floods my cheeks, my throat aching. Because fuck him, he’s right. “Shut up,” I snap, jerking my head back, desperate for space, for clarity, for something that isn’t the dizzying effect of him. Maddox just grins. “Tell me I’m wrong.” I press my lips together. Because I can’t. And he knows that too. The drag of his gaze is unbearable, suffocating in its intensity. Like he’s reading me, seeing everything I try to hide. So I say the only thing I can. “I’m not yours.” His eyes bore into mine, but he stays silent. And then a slow, wicked smirk breaks out on his beautiful face. “Yeah?” He leans in closer, his voice barely a whisper. “Then tell me why you’re wearing the clothes I picked out and bought for you… why you smell like me…” His thumb drags over my hip, where last night’s bruises are starting to bloom. “…and why I can feel you shaking beneath my touch, like you can’t fucking wait for me to do it again?” I let out a sharp, uneven breath, but I have no answer. Because he’s right. Again. “I should call the cops and report you,” I hiss, heart hammering in my chest. It was Mad...

“Just to warn you, I have a black belt and I’ll kick your fucking ass if you try and hurt me⁠—” “Hurt you?” His voice dips lower, edged with something rough, something almost… offended. He leans closer, his body pressing into mine, solid, unyielding, the heat of him sinking into my skin like a brand. My pulse stutters, betraying me. Then, his lips brush my ear, his breath hot against my skin. “Angel, the only way I’d ever hurt you is if you begged me for it. If you got on your knees, looked up at me with those pretty, desperate eyes, and asked me nicely.” A sharp, traitorous shiver dances across my skin. “And even then?” His fingers skim my jaw, tilting my chin up until my breath is trapped between us. “I’d make sure you loved every second of it.” I can’t breathe. I can’t… think. This is all so wrong, but why does it feel so… inevitable? Like I was always meant to end up here, trapped between him and the door, drowning in the storm of his presence, his words curling around me like smoke. “I can feel it, you know,” he murmurs, his fingers tracing the barest line down my throat, not applying pressure—just reminding me that he could. That I’d let him. “The way your pulse is racing. The way your breath shudders every time I get close.” I swallow hard, my throat working against his touch. “You’re imagining things.” Maddox chuckles, low and knowing. “Mmm.” His lips brush my temple. “If that’s true, Ari, then why are you still here? Why haven’t you screamed—or run?” Because I don...

“Is that so?” His voice is smooth, a razor wrapped in silk. “Because from where I was standing—” His hand trails lazily down my hip, thumb brushing against the hem of the dress he picked out for me. “—you weren’t just a willing participant. You were desperate for it.” I suck in a sharp breath, my body betraying me as heat flares between my thighs. “I didn’t know it was you,” I snap, ignoring the way my pulse jumps at his touch. His smirk deepens, predatory. “Maybe not.” His fingers press lightly against my waist, right where he held me against his face last night, fingertips over the two bruises I’m sure will bloom by later today. “But tell me, Ari—if you really believed it was Asher, then why did it finally feel right?” “I should put you back in a cage, where you belong,” I grit out, trying to pull out of his grasp. Maddox hums, tilting his head, his blue eyes glinting with something dark. “You won’t.” I let out a breathless, humorless laugh. “You really think I won’t? Watch. Me.” His lips twitch, amusement flickering over his face like this is some kind of game, like I’m an irritable little fly that amuses him. Like I’m not threatening to send him back to prison for life. “You won’t. Because you liked it.” I go rigid. “Fuck you.” “You already did.” His voice is low, smug. His thumb brushes my lower lip. “Well… my mouth, at least.” Heat floods my face, a mix of fury and something far more dangerous. I shove at his chest, and this time, he lets me go, taking a step back an...

This changes everything. This means I don’t know him at all. And yet a part of me wonders if I ever really knew Asher, either. I force myself to close the laptop, but the damage is done. Because now, when I look at Maddox, I won’t just see the smirking, cocky ex-felon who taunts me with promises he shouldn’t be making. I’ll see the man who buried his whole world. And I don’t know if that makes him more dangerous… or more human.

I open my eyes just as another large gust of wind catches me off guard⁠— And then I slip. The dirt beneath my feet crumbles faster than I can react, my balance vanishing as gravity yanks me forward. I scream, but the fall never comes⁠— Because Maddox grabs me. His hands lock around my waist, yanking me back against his chest with a sharp, commanding strength. My pulse slams against my ribs. My whole body trembles. I suck in an uneven breath, my chest heaving as I cling to his forearms. For a second, neither of us move. Then Maddox exhales, a slow, measured breath against my neck. “You really need to be more careful, angel.” I shudder, and his grip locks around me. Over my shoulder, I hear Asher huff. “Jesus, Ari. Can you not almost kill yourself for one second?” I pull away from Maddox, my breath still shaky as I turn to face Asher. “I didn’t do it on purpose,” I snap. Asher scowls. Maddox just smirks. And as I stand between them, my heart still hammering, I realize it wasn’t Asher who saved me. It wasn’t Asher who reacted first, who moved without thinking, who caught me before I could hit the jagged cliffs below. It was Maddox. Asher was too busy scolding me. Maddox was too busy making sure I was safe.

“You don’t need to fight me, Ari. And I know you don’t want to.” A shiver rolls through me. “You don’t need to think.” His grip locks just enough to make my pulse stutter. “Not with me.” I swallow hard, my body caught somewhere between surrender and defiance. His mouth grazes the curve of my jaw, his next words slow, precise, devastating. “Let me take care of you.”

“That’s twice now, angel.” My voice is gravelly, strained, still catching up to the wreckage of what she just did to me. Her brow knit together, her breathing still unsteady. “Twice?” I smirk. “That I’ve come in my fucking pants because of you.” A blush crawls up her throat, and I fucking love it. Then, she lets out a breathy laugh—light, too light. “Don’t let it go to your head. You’re not the first guy who couldn’t keep it together with me.”

“Asher works too much, doesn’t he?” I huff a laugh. “I’m used to it.” Hannah studies me for a moment, something warm and knowing in her gaze. Then, she sighs, picking up her coffee mug again. “You know, sweetheart… you deserve someone who makes time for you. Who puts you first.” I blink, surprised by the sudden shift in conversation. “We love Asher,” she continues, her voice careful, measured. “He’s always been driven. Focused. But… well, relationships need more than just good intentions.” She takes a sip, her eyes soft as they meet mine. “We like you, Ari. And we would understand if—” She pauses, choosing her words carefully. “If it ever felt like too much. If you ever needed more than what he’s willing to give.” A sharp pang twists in my chest. I force a small smile, ducking my head. “It’s not like that. I know Asher cares about me in his own way.” Even as the words leave my mouth, I feel the lie settle heavily between us. Because it is like that. Maybe it always has been. I’ve just never had anyone else to show me the difference. Not until Maddox. I feel like I’m standing at a cliff’s edge, too scared to jump, too ashamed to admit I already have. But what am I supposed to say to Hannah? That the problem isn’t just Asher’s distance or his busy schedule, but that I’ve already let someone else touch parts of me Asher never has? That I wanted her other son? That I want Maddox, not Asher? “I have no doubt that he cares about you,” she agrees easily. “But words and effort are...

The Ferris wheel jerks slightly as it slows, and Maddox shifts beside me, his knuckles tightening against the metal bar. This whole ride… He’s been uncomfortable the entire time, hasn’t he? But not once did he say a word about it. Not once did he let it show. And suddenly, I remember—he wasn’t even going to ride. He was going to sit it out entirely, being the odd man out. But the second Asher stepped away and I was left standing there, alone, Maddox didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward, wordless, taking the empty seat beside me without giving me a choice. He’d rather face the lurching fear of the Ferris wheel than let me go up alone. It hits me, sharp and soft all at once.

“Why did you come with me?” I ask softly, keeping my voice even. Maddox doesn’t look at me right away. His gaze stays fixed on the horizon, the ocean stretching out in an endless sprawl below us. For a second, I don’t think he’s going to answer. Then his throat bobs, and his fingers flex against his thigh. “Would’ve been worse watching you go without me,” he mutters, his voice rougher than usual.

“Are you hiding from the rest of us? Or just waiting for the government drones disguised as seagulls to report back?” Her voice is softer than I expected. Not accusing. Just observing. But that sharp little bite? I like it. I huff a laugh, lifting the joint to my lips again, taking my time before responding. “Maybe I like the view. Maybe I like the quiet,” I add, shaking my head. “And maybe the seagulls are onto something.”

“What do you want?” She exhales sharply, a short laugh escaping her lips. “What do you mean?” I take another slow drag, exhaling before tilting my head at her. “I mean, what do you actually want? Out of life. Out of yourself. Out of him.” I don’t have to say Asher’s name. We both know who I’m talking about. Ari stills, her fingers tightening around the railing. “Those are loaded questions.” I chuckle. “I can handle it.” She exhales, her expression shifting, like she’s debating whether or not to give me a real answer. “I want peace.” The admission is so quiet, I almost miss it. My smirk fades slightly. “Peace?” She nods, her gaze still locked on the waves. “I want to wake up one day and not feel like the world is sitting on my chest. I want to stop thinking about everyone else before myself. I want to…” She hesitates, then shakes her head. “I don’t know. I just don’t want to be responsible for everything all the time.” I stare at her. And for a second, I see it—the exhaustion, the weight pressing against her, the years of being the strong one, the reliable one. She continues. “My dad was strict. We weren’t allowed frivolous things. I had to be a good example for my sisters. I went to college, got a master’s degree right off the bat. I never had a chance to just… breathe. My mom’s life revolves around my dad. Whatever he wants, she wants. She was never truly on our side, you know? She was a good mom, but she’s not prone to thinking for herself. We’re not that close.” She exh...

“When you’re ready to stop lying to yourself, you know where to find me.” My voice is low, steady, laced with the kind of certainty that doesn’t leave room for doubt. I brush my fingers over her jaw, the touch deceptively soft. “But I’m getting real fucking tired of watching you pretend you don’t want this just as much as I do.” A muscle in her jaw tics, but she still doesn’t pull away. That’s what I thought. I tilt my head, studying her, letting the shroud of my words sink in. “So keep running, if that’s what you need to do. But don’t kid yourself.” I grip her tighter, just enough to make sure she’s listening. “Because when you finally give in?” My voice dips into something dark and possessive. “I’ll be right here. Waiting.”

“I guess I always just hoped you’d wake up one day and decide I was enough to come first.” He just nods, like I’m confirming something he’s always suspected. Something that, deep down, he already knew, too. “I never wanted to hold you back,” he says after a moment. I let out a small, bitter laugh. “No. You just wanted to keep me waiting on the sidelines.” His lips press into a thin line. “That’s not true.” I lift a brow. “Isn’t it? I think we both know where this is headed,” I say softly. “We’re just too afraid to say it out loud.” He nods. “Yeah. I suppose you’re right. So… what? This is it?” I swallow hard, then nod. “Yeah. This is it. I’m done trying to fit into a life that was never going to make space for me, Asher.”

“Careful, Ari. If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to start thinking you want me to ruin you right here in this restaurant.” And the worst part? I do.

“Did you kill him?” I ask, my voice raspy. “Did you murder that insurance guy to avenge your wife and daughter?” He chuckles, and the sound sends a flash of hot energy through me. “Yes. I killed him.” I can hear the pulse rushing through my veins, but before I can react fully, Maddox takes a step back. “Does that scare you?”

“But… why me? Is it just because I remind you of your late wife?” Maddox’s gaze is steady, unwavering, as if he’s deciding just how much truth to give me. He studies me for a beat longer, then exhales, shaking his head like he’s amused at himself. “Not really. You have the same fight as her, but you’re different than she was. Do you want to know the truth?” I nod, and he swallows, like the truth will cause him pain. “When my mom sent me a picture of you, I couldn’t stop looking,” he finally says, his voice low, rough around the edges. “I kept staring, wondering what you’d be like—how you’d move, how you’d speak. There was something in your eyes, something strong. But the picture didn’t do you justice. It never could.” He steps closer, not touching me, but close enough that I feel the warmth radiating from him, feel the thrum of his presence pressing into me like a force I don’t know if I want to resist. “I’ve always been drawn to strong things,” he continues, his voice quieter now, almost thoughtful. “Not just anything with power, but things that endure. Things that have been broken and still piece themselves back together.” His lips curve into something that’s not quite a smile, something more like understanding. “Things like me.” A shiver runs through me, but I don’t step away. I can’t. His gaze flickers over my face, lingering like he’s memorizing me. “And you… you’re stronger than you realize,” he murmurs. “Maybe that’s why I couldn’t look away. Maybe that’s why I alre...

Hannah smiles when she sees me. “Morning, sweetheart. Did you sleep okay?” Before I can answer, Maddox speaks. “She seemed content after dinner,” he muses, swirling his coffee lazily, his gaze never leaving mine. Something akin to pride flashes across his face. “Must’ve been a satisfying meal if she slept for fourteen hours,” he drawls, his blue eyes locked on to mine, knowing. I choke on my sip of coffee. Asher scrunches his brow, glancing between us. “I’m sure Ari doesn’t need you to notice every single thing about her.” If only Asher knew… Maddox smiles, pulling his lower lip between his teeth as he leans forward. “I’d have to be dead not to notice her, Asher,” he murmurs. I hate him. And I hate how my stomach flutters at his words anyway.

“Were you happy? With me, I mean.” His voice is almost too quiet. The words are soft, but they land like a punch. My stomach knots, my pulse picking up speed. I stare at the horizon, feeling the ocean breeze sweep over my skin, and I say the only thing I can. “I was… at first.” Asher stiffens beside me, but I don’t look at him. I can’t. The wind shifts, carrying the distant sound of Hannah’s laughter. Asher exhales sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. When he speaks again, his voice is lower, tinged with something that sounds a lot like quiet defeat. “I feel like I kept trying to make this work, but it just didn’t. No matter how hard I tried.” I bite the inside of my cheek, swallowing down the sharp response that threatens to rise. Did he try, though? Because all I saw were words without action. Empty promises. Half-hearted gestures after the damage was already done. He listened, sure, but he never really heard me. And maybe for a long time, I pretended that was enough. That if I stayed patient, if I stayed quiet, things would magically shift. But they never did.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He gives me a small, resigned smile, but there’s no real heartbreak in it—just acceptance. “I think you’ve been hurting for a while now,” he says quietly. “And maybe I’ve been too comfortable to notice. Or maybe I just didn’t want to.” He lets out a shallow breath. “We had a good run, Ari.” A sharp pang twists in my ribs. I reach for his hand, squeezing gently, and for the first time in a long time, we’re not pretending. We both know how this ends.

“Tell me,” I murmur, stepping even closer, our bodies nearly flush. “Tell me that you don’t want me, right here, right now, and I’ll step back and watch you walk away.” Her breath hitches. I reach up, brushing my knuckles along the side of her throat, feeling her pulse jackrabbit. She’s so responsive to my touch. Always has been. It’s addictive, watching the way she reacts under my scrutiny. I’ll never get enough of it. “Tell me, Ari,” I whisper. “I’ll give you as much time as you need. I’ll stop the letters, the texts. I’ll wait. Because while it’s fun to toy with you, I want you to be all in. I need you to be. Because I am. I want this, and you, forever. I decided before I even met you. So…” I arch a brow, waiting. “That’s not fair,” she whispers, eyes flicking between mine. “You, standing here, looking like…” She swallows, her delicate throat bobbing. “Like I said, I’m not a patient man,” I tell her, my voice a dark purr. “But I don’t do halfway,” I finish, my voice low, steady. “If you want safety, if you want easy—you already had that. With me? It’s every ugly and real thing. It’s chaos and passion. It’s heavy, but it’s real. I want all of you, and not just the polite or palatable parts. I want every breath, every bruise, every broken piece you try to hide. I want it all.” I pause, my thumb brushing her pulse again, savoring the frantic beat beneath her skin. Just knowing my words are having an effect on her… “I’ll wait,” I murmur, softer now, but no less certain. “Bu...

“Oh, and when you get home,” he says, voice dropping into that low, teasing rasp, “make sure to work on that fan fiction you’ve been writing for me.” I blink. My heart plummets. “What?” His smirk deepens, clearly enjoying the stunned look on my face. “Don’t worry. I didn’t read it. I wouldn’t invade your privacy like that.” His head tilts slightly. “But I do know about it. And for the record? I think it’s fucking cool.” My cheeks burn. I want the floor to swallow me whole. “It’s not—it’s not for you. It’s just⁠—” He steps back in before I can escape, catching my wrist gently. “Hey.” His thumb brushes over my pulse point. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you. I wasn’t trying to. I mean it. The fact that you’ve written a story that big, with that much heart, that people actually care about?” His voice softens, earnest. “That’s badass.” I swallow hard, my throat tight as I stare up at him. “And,” he adds, softer now, “I’m dying to know what happens to Murtagh and Nasuada…” He gives me a devilish grin, naming two characters from my story. My eyes widen. “Yeah, I did read a little bit. Couldn’t help myself. You’re kind of famous, you know that?” I gape at him. “You internet searched me?” “I searched everything about you,” he says unapologetically. “How do you think I found your wish list?” I sigh. “Psycho,” I mutter under my breath. He chuckles, his whole face brightening. “Hey. You should be proud.” He brushes his lips against my cheek again, more reverent this time. “Don’t ever be...

“So,” Frankie says, nails clicking against the steering wheel, “I’m just going to take a wild guess. You dumped golden boy for his ex-con brother.” I groan. I hadn’t told Frankie anything that happened over the last few days because I wasn’t sure how to broach the subject. “I cannot keep a single secret from you, can I?” “Absolutely not. I’m your best friend. It’s literally in the contract.” “Technically… yes. But I cheated on Asher, Frankie.” The guilt surfaces fast, hot in my chest. “And Maddox is… intense.” She snorts. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” “It kind of is!” She eyes me sideways. “Okay, walk me through this. Did he coerce you? Threaten you? Drag you off somewhere against your will?” “No. I mean… maybe a little, but I wanted it. All of it.” I pause. “He did eat me out like a starving man and make me see God.” Her mouth drops open. “Oh my god.” I just laugh, and we sit in the comfortable silence for a few seconds. “Look, if you’re talking about a man who looks just like Asher but knows how to please you in bed, with tattoos and no boring job? Come on. If you didn’t ride his face, I’d have to stage an intervention.” I cackle. “I missed you.” She grins, unapologetic. “I missed you, too. In all seriousness, Ari… yeah, you cheated. And I know that eats at you. But that doesn’t mean you’re a terrible person, it means you were deeply fucking unhappy and didn’t know how to get out.”

“But seriously,” she says between bites, “I get that Maddox is a lot. Prison time, the smirking, the stalker-ish ‘you’re mine forever’ energy⁠—” “Super intense,” I mutter, nodding. “—but also? I bet he looks at you like he’d burn the whole goddamn world to the ground just to make you smile. And I say this as someone who married a man with a similar vibe, it’s fucking terrifying. But it’s also the most powerful thing in the world when it’s real.” I blink at her, emotion prickling at the backs of my eyes. “You think it’s real?” “I think you think it is. And that’s enough.” She pauses, watching me. “But also? You’re scared shitless.” “I am,” I whisper, and it feels like a confession. She grabs my hand and squeezes. “Good. That means it matters. The right kind of love doesn’t always feel safe. Sometimes it feels like a hurricane you can’t survive. But maybe that’s the point. Maybe it breaks down all the bullshit so you can finally build something real.”

“You didn’t tell me your place looks like a Bond villain’s apartment.” He smirks. “Is that a compliment?” “It’s just unexpected,” I say, spinning around and admiring the sweeping view of downtown and the ocean beyond it. Floor-to-ceiling windows stretch the length of the room, the dark sky making the nearby lights pop. “But I can’t deny it’s stunning.” He shrugs, like none of it really matters. “I like it. It’s quiet. Private.” “You must’ve made good money in cybersecurity,” I say, arms folding across my chest. “You know, before you turned into a full-time stalker.” Maddox takes a slow step toward me, that infuriating smirk still tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I did,” he replies easily. “Fortunately for me, I had friends in high places who kept my money safe.” I tilt my head. “Legal money?” He chuckles, the sound low and rich, like I’ve said something he enjoys. “Mostly. Enough that the IRS isn’t knocking on my door. Let’s just say I had contingency plans… and a few people who believed I’d make it back.” “Home,” I muse, glancing around again. “This is home?” His gaze shifts, like he’s really looking at the space for the first time. “It’s walls and glass and silence,” he says after a moment. “But it’s not home without you in it.” That stops me cold. “Maddox—” He shrugs again, but there’s no indifference this time. Just something raw and open in the lines of his face. “I like things that are mine. Things I can control. But this?” He gestures around at the modern furnit...

“You think this hasn’t been real all along?” he asks, voice rough. “I’ve been dying for you for over a year, angel. I’ve built my fucking world around the idea of you. That’s real.” I try to breathe, but it feels like there’s no air left in the room. He leans down, his forehead resting against mine. “You’re here now. That’s all I need.” Then, his tone shifts, tender and uncharacteristically hesitant. “And just so you know… I don’t expect anything from you. I know what your house means to you, what it meant to move into a space that belonged to your grandmother.” My eyes sting, and before I realize what I’m doing, I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “She was the first person who made me feel like I didn’t have to earn love. She made it feel like home no matter what was going on outside the walls.” His hand flexes on the nape of my neck. “I get it. That house is part of who you are. I’d never ask you to give that up.” I blink fast, trying to clear the emotion clouding my vision. “But I’d follow you anywhere, Ari,” he murmurs. “Anywhere. I’d live in a one-bedroom apartment with cockroaches and no fucking hot water if it meant I got to wake up next to you.” I let out a shaky breath, and he leans in, brushing his lips against mine. “I’m not trying to trap you,” he whispers. “I’m trying to show you you’re free. As long as you’ll let me worship you wherever that freedom takes you.”

“I have a confession,” he murmurs, his tongue feathering against my pulse point as he inhales the scent of my perfume. “At the beach house, I put some of my cum in your perfume bottle.” I go still. “Why?” “So you’d always smell like me.” A bolt of heat goes through me. “Fuck. I hate that I find that so hot,” I mutter, pulling his face up to mine and kissing him fully.

“I’ve wanted you here for so long,” he admits quietly, crawling over me, caging me in without touching me. “I didn’t think I’d ever get to have you like this. Not really.” His fingers brush down the center of my chest, slow and purposeful. “You have me,” I whisper. Something flickers behind his eyes—relief, possession, awe. A slow, dark smile curves his lips. “Not yet,” he murmurs. “Not in all the ways I want you, little warrior.” “Oh? And what other ways do you want me?” He gives me a lopsided smile. “You really want to know?” I nod eagerly. He sighs, looking like he regrets saying anything. “Fine. I want you in my bed every night, with my ring around your finger, and then I want to fuck babies into you. Happy?” His answer jolts through me. “Really?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper. “Really. But for tonight, I’ll settle for filling up your delicious cunt.”

“You lied to me.” His eyes snap to mine, and he’s not even surprised. How’d he find out? I might never know, but it’s apparent by his lack of shock that he knew before coming over here. And Ari—fuck, she’s trying to fix it. Trying to soften it. But I’m already walking closer. “Asher, I swear, it just… happened. I can’t explain it, okay? It happened after we⁠—” “At the house?” he yells, stepping closer. I’m already standing behind her, then beside her, then in front of her like it’s instinct. Because it is. Because she doesn’t have to be the only one defending herself anymore. “She doesn’t owe you shit,” I say, voice calm, even. “You’re not together anymore.” Asher’s eyes flick to mine, full of disgust. “Fuck you. You think I didn’t see the way you looked at her?” His gaze slices into Ari. “I came by the other night. I saw him leaving your house.” His eyes shift to me. “What did you do, Maddox? Wait for me to get comfortable, then swoop in?” “Comfortable? You mean the way you ignored her and still expected her to wait around like a goddamn afterthought?” I grind out, my tone sharp, final. “You don’t know a goddamn thing about her. About what she needs. About what she wants.” I glance at Ari, and when she doesn’t look away, it’s all the permission I need. “She chose me. Not because I swooped in, but because you left the door wide open and never even noticed.” And then he hits me with it. “You already fucked her, so I guess you feel entitled to speak for her too? Guess she di...

“Say one more thing like that to insult her,” I murmur, stepping closer, “and I’ll show you exactly how entitled I can be.” “You going to beat me up on her porch, Maddox?” he throws back. “Go ahead. Add a new charge to your record.” I smile. Not a friendly smile. Not the kind you give to someone you once called family. “You think I give a shit about going back?” My voice drops. “If it means protecting her? I’ll go back with a smile on my face and your blood under my fingernails.” Asher’s expression tenses. But I’m not done. “You’re not angry because she left you. You’re angry because I saw her first. Truly saw her. And I didn’t hesitate to give her what she needed, unlike you.” He laughs, bitter. “You think you’re some kind of fucking savior?” “No,” I say, stepping closer until we’re almost nose to nose. “I think I’m the man who’d die for her. I think I’m the man who wouldn’t trade her for a promotion or a calendar full of conference calls. I’d never even think of letting let her settle for less than what she fucking deserves. And just so we’re clear—neither of us deserve her—but I’m the only one who’d burn this whole fucking world to the ground just to keep her.” Asher blinks. And for the first time, I see it in his eyes—that realization that he never stood a chance. He looks at Ari one more time. “Is this what you want?” And she doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t hide. My little warrior. “Yes,” she says, voice steady. That’s it. Game over. He nods once. No goodbye. Just turns a...

“I’m sorry you had to deal with that,” she whispers. I kiss the top of her head. “I’d do it again. Besides, it’s kind of my fault he had to work so much.” She pulls back. “What did you do?” I shrug, smiling. “I may know a guy who knows a guy who compromised Asher’s firm.” Her mouth drops open. “It was you. The reason he had a work crisis.” I shrug. “Whoops.” She gives me a conspiratorial smile. “You really are relentless. “For you? Always.”

“I need you, Ari. Right now.” The admission nearly buckles my knees. And God help me, I love it. I love how badly he wants me. How he doesn’t hide it or make me guess. How he’s barely holding it together, even now, in my sunlit kitchen on a Tuesday afternoon, surrounded by bags of boring groceries. He wants me all the time. And the worst part? I love it. I love being wanted like this. Like I’m not a burden. Like I’m not too much. Like I’m exactly enough.

“So, Maddox,” she says, swirling her wine, eyes sharp with challenge. “What are your intentions with my best friend?” Frankie asks, dead serious. “And please keep in mind that Dante and I watch a lot of true crime, and I’m disturbingly confident I could get away with murder.” I sputter. “Frankie!” She grins. “Relax, babe. I’m sure he’s great. But you know… just in case.” Dante doesn’t even flinch, just lifts his glass in agreement. “She’s not kidding. We live near a swamp. Bodies disappear there all the time.” “Oh my god,” I hiss, covering my face but feeling very well protected nonetheless. Maddox, to his credit, doesn’t blink. His lips twitch like he’s trying not to grin. “Noted.” Frankie leans back, eyes narrowed on him. “I’m serious, Maddox. We like you—for now. Screw this up and I’ll be the first one making sure you disappear without a trace.” Maddox’s smirk only deepens. “Understood. But just so we’re clear, I intend to keep her. For good.”

“What is it, little warrior?” His voice is quiet, but edged with something sharp, like he already knows the answer. How does he always know what I’m thinking? I close my eyes, pressing my back against his chest, letting the steady beat of his heart soothe me. “I’m worried I don’t know how to do this,” I admit, curling my fingers against his hands resting on my stomach. Maddox doesn't hesitate. “Yeah, you do.” I turn slightly to glance at him over my shoulder, searching for some sort of reassurance in his eyes. “I don’t. I’ve always just… settled. Done what was expected. Been the good daughter. The easygoing girlfriend. The one who never needed too much. And even with Asher…” I trail off, heat rising in my cheeks. “Even with him, I never felt this close to him. Not even half. It’s terrifying, because I’ve never been able to trust anyone but myself. Yet… three weeks in with you and I feel like I’ve known you forever.” His jaw tics, but his thumb stays soft as it traces the edge of my jaw. His eyes search mine like he’s piecing it together, like he’s seeing every part of me that I try so hard to keep hidden. “That’s because you never held back with me.” His voice is low, steady, edged with something darker. “Not once.” His thumb presses gently against my pulse. “You’ve given me every version of you—the good, the scared, the stubborn. All of it. You haven’t played it safe, not for a second.” The words make me ache. It’s true. I’ve told Maddox more in these past few days than I...

“I’ve got you now,” he murmurs, forehead pressed against mine. “All of you. Don’t you dare run.” I take a breath, shaky but certain. “I’m not going anywhere,” I whisper. And somehow, for the first time in my entire life, I mean it.

“Holy shit, Ari,” Maddox says, reading the email over my shoulder. “This is a big deal. I’m so proud of you.” “Thank you.” He tucks his face into my neck, arms tightening around me like he might never let go. “You did this. All on your own.” I laugh, blinking back sudden tears. “You helped.” “I just sat next to you while you spiraled about plot holes and questioned if anyone would care about a brooding graveyard warden who eats bones for power but falls in love with a candlelit librarian. You did everything else.” “You loved it,” I whisper, teasing. He lifts his head, smirking. “I jerked off to it.” “Maddox!” “What?” he shrugs, completely unrepentant. “Chapter sixteen was filthy, and you know it.” I cover my face with my hands, groaning into my palms. “If I didn’t love you so much, I’d smother you with that apron.” “Mm.” He leans down, brushing a kiss just beneath my ear. “I’d love for you to smother me with something else.” “I’m sure you would.”