Chapter 175

Chapter 175
He shoves the flask into his hoodie pocket, scoffing. “You hallucinating again, Crest? I'm sure I can find more ice water. ”
He steps toward the bike, swings a leg over. Helmet dangles off one of the handlebars, pristine. Untouched.
I clear my throat, fingers tightening slightly around the phone he just handed me.
“ We’re starting couple’s therapy next week.”
He turns to me and lifts a brow. “Didn’t know we were that close, I'll pass.”
I exhale a dry laugh despite myself.
“ I meant Layla and I.”
He nods slowly. “At least one good thing came out of yesterday.”
But there’s something in his eyes when he says it. A flicker. Like whatever demons he wrestled yesterday are still clinging to the edges of him.
“Hey,” I call before he starts the engine. “You know I consider you a friend, right?”
He looks at me like I’ve said something absurd.
“I mean it.”
His eyes narrow slightly. “Where’s this coming from?”
I shrug. “Just wanted to know if it goes both ways.”
He glances at the helmet, still doesn’t pick it up.
“I find you tolerable, which is more than I can say about the rest of the human population,” he mutters finally, " Guess that counts for something. "
I nod and open my mouth, wanting to say something. Something like "You can talk to me, you know," but less... 'sincere greeting card'. I’m still fishing for the right words, still trying to make it sound casual, not something he’ll throw back at me with that sharp tongue of his, but he’s already riding off.


She’s wiping down the kitchen counter, quiet but not distant. Focused. I watch her for a beat too long. She doesn’t notice, or maybe she does, but pretends not to. She’s good at that sometimes.
We're having our first therapy session tomorrow.
I step up behind her, hands sliding around her waist, arms wrapping across her stomach, chest pressing gently to her back. I feel her inhale when I do it, like I’ve pressed a switch. And then she melts, softening against me without a word.
God, she fits. Every part of her fits into me like a truth I didn’t know I was missing until I found it.
I drop my forehead against her shoulder and just breathe. I need this...need her. Not sex for the sake of it. Not to distract myself. With her it's always about something more. Closeness. Connection. The kind that strips everything away and leaves us only with the truth of each other.
“I missed you today,” I murmur, lips brushing the curve of her neck. We had lunch together, but still....
She shifts slightly, head tilting to let me in, hand coming to rest over mine where it lies on her stomach.
She turns in my arms, wiping her hands on a towel before resting them lightly on my chest. Her eyes find mine, something quiet and understanding in them. “You have me,” she says simply.
God, she does this to me.
I kiss her. Slow. It doesn’t need to go anywhere, it just does. Her lips part like she’s been waiting for me all day. And maybe she has. Maybe we’ve both been waiting for a version of this that doesn’t hurt. One that doesn’t ask questions or demand answers.
Just this, her arms wrapped around me, her lips against mine, the world slipping out of focus as everything that matters falls back into place.
We move like we’re rediscovering each other again, right here in the warm light of our kitchen. Her fingers thread into my hair, mine grip her hips, drawing her close until I can feel every inch of her.
And it’s not about desire. It’s about grounding. About not needing to say another word because this right here is how we speak.
“ I like it when you look at me like that,” she says, touching my chest.
“Like what?”
“Like I’m the last thing in the world you’d ever let go of.”
“Because you are.”
I kiss her hard. No buildup. Just mouths crashing together like we’ve been waiting to break. She gasps into me, her fingers curling into my hair.
“You seem a bit.. angry,” she whispers.... leaning back slightly to look at me. It's a mystery how she picks up on such little details.
“ I am. At the world. At anything that ever touched you wrong.”
She swallows and stills, and for a second I fear I've gone too far. Treaded over ground she's not ready to walk on yet. But her gaze softens. “Then touch me right.”
My hands roam, rough and reverent.
“You already know I’m yours,” she murmurs, kissing along my jaw.
I bite her shoulder gently, breathing heavy. “I need you, flower. I swear I was made to worship at your feet.”
Her head falls back, lips parted.
“I’m going to fuck you like you’re holy,” I tell her. “Because you are. You’re every prayer I never thought I’d deserve answered.”
Her eyes flood. Not with tears, not entirely, but with feeling. With everything we haven’t said.
“ As long as you always stay when it’s done," she whispers.
“Always,” I rasp. “I’m not walking away. Not from you. Not even if the whole world burns around us.”
And I let go. Of fear. Of guilt. Of everything but her.
She stands on her toes, tugging my head down, making me meet her halfway so she swallows the breath that passes between my lips. My hands find her waist, lifting her up, her legs wrap around me instinctively, her body rocking forward as I pulsate between her legs, hard and heavy. My hands comb up to her ass, holding her up, squeezing while my mouth unravels us both.
I lay her down on the counter and stare down at her, she's wearing that look in her blue eyes. Hungry and needy.
" I want you naked, " I say, and the words have a bite to them. She doesn't verbally respond, but rather lifts her hips in invitation. A ragged breath escapes my lips. My fingers find the delicate lace she's wearing underneath her t-shirt, she lifts her hips another inch as I pull it down, yanking it off her feet.
My thumb ghosts over her clit, she grabs the hem of her t-shirt, sliding the fabric up over her stomach, her breasts, and then it drops to the floor. I swallow, letting her tug on my own shirt and take it off. The second it hits the ground my lips close over her nipple. Her hands thread through my hair, holding me close while she arches her back and gives herself over to me completely. She moans, her hips jerking toward me, and it takes everything I have to hold myself back, the need to be inside her eclipsing all else.
My hands slide down her torso, my chest heaving as I struggle to breathe. Our gazes lock as I stare down at her, as the absolute fucking beauty of her registers with a punch to the chest. She's perfect in ways I'll never be able to fully explain.