Chapter 17: First week is the Hardest...

Kai

By day three, Kai had officially lost her mind.

She wasn’t allowed to go anywhere. Not the café. Not the project office. Not even the corner store for a bottle of oat milk.

“Sara, I’m not a damn child, and I’m not made of glass!” she snapped from her permanent position on the couch, flinging a throw pillow at the armchair where Sara sat scrolling on her laptop.

Sara didn’t even flinch. “No, but you are a stubborn pain in the ass with a ten-inch knife wound that needs to heal.”

“It’s not ten inches.”

Sara turned slowly, arching a brow. “Want me to get the ruler?”

Kai flopped back with a dramatic groan. “I’m going insane. I could be doing actual work. I have emails. Meetings. Managers to check in with—”

“You’re lucky I let you breathe without supervision. You're going to karate, and that’s it. Because James, Marty, and Scotty are there. They’ll keep you in line.”

Kai’s growl was wordless, feral, and completely ignored.

She kept it up for another two days—whining, pacing, trying to sneak out the door more than once. Sara physically blocked her every time, shoving her right back to the couch like a stern big sister armed with passive-aggressive coffee and zero tolerance.

On the fifth day, Sara cracked.

It happened in the kitchen, with Kai grumbling under her breath about being trapped in her own home like a hostage.

“You think this is just me being overprotective?” Sara turned, voice sharp. “You want to know how bad it actually was, Kai?”

Kai paused, startled by the tone.

Sara didn’t wait for a response. “Deep knife laceration. From just below your hip to just under your rib. You were in the hospital for five days before you could even form a full sentence. Do you remember that? No, of course not. Because they had you doped up on so many pain meds you didn’t even recognize me the first time I came in.”

The words hit like a slap. Kai’s mouth opened. Closed. “I—”

“I held your hand while they changed your bandages, Kai. I had to fight the nurses to let me in after hours. So, no—you don’t get to complain about not going out for smoothies when you nearly died. That’s the reason I called Richard in the first place.”

Kai looked away, the fight draining from her body.

But Sara wasn’t done.

Preston showed up the next morning.

He didn’t yell. He didn’t scold. He simply stepped into their apartment like a storm in a suit, kissed Kai on the top of the head—gentle, careful—and turned to Sara.

“How many infractions?”

Sara handed him a list.

He smiled.

Kai immediately started to backpedal. “Okay, I’m healing, right? Like… that’s what’s important.”

Preston looked down at her from his towering height, warm and terrifying all at once. “I’ll deal with you properly when you’re cleared to resume training. Until then—be good. Or that list will double.”

Then he turned and left. Just like that.

And the weight of those words sat on Kai’s chest like a boulder.

And it only seemed to get more suffocating. James started driving her everywhere in the second week. She hadn’t asked him to.

He just showed up Monday morning, leaned on the doorframe of her apartment like he’d always belonged there, and said, “Grab your bag. You’ve got class.”

Kai glared. “Sara could’ve taken me.”

“She asked me to. Said I had a better shot at keeping you from sneaking off for a latte.”

“She’s a traitor.”

“She’s smart.”

Kai muttered curses under her breath all the way to the car.

It didn’t help that James had started using that voice more often. The one that made her stomach twist and her thighs press together. Low. Calm. In control. Seductive.

“Slow down,” he’d say when she moved too fast.

“Sit,” he’d command when she tried to stand during breaks.

“Drink,” he’d murmur, handing her water like she might forget to hydrate on purpose just to defy him.

It was infuriating. And deeply, deeply arousing. She couldn’t even look at him some days. The tension built like static in her blood, humming under her skin. Every time he opened his mouth, her body reacted before her brain caught up. She hated it. And she wanted more.

And James? He just hovered. Close. Quiet. Watching. Knowing.

By Friday evening, she couldn’t take it anymore.

James had dropped her off, walked her up the stairs—insisted, even though she’d argued the whole way—and was now standing in her living room like he owned the damn place. Arms crossed. Watching her settle onto the couch with that unreadable look that was somehow equal parts patient, amused, and alpha as fuck.

She snapped.

“Why are you hovering?” she blurted, twisting to face him, the ache in her side forgotten for the moment. “Why are you suddenly always around? Is this some protective bullshit?”

His brow arched, but he didn’t move. "Pretty sure that right now I'm babysitting a brat."

Kai stood, arms folded tight across her chest, chin lifted in challenge. “I don’t need a babysitter, James.”

“No,” he said simply. “You don’t.”

“But you’re still here.”

His gaze darkened. “Because I choose to be.”

The words landed heavy between them.

Kai swallowed hard. “That doesn’t explain the constant hovering. You’re at the dojo. You’re at my front door. You’re in my living room. You’re—”

“—watching over what’s mine.”

Her breath caught. Core tightening instantly. “I’m not—”

“I know,” he cut in softly, voice dropping low, steady as steel. “You’re not mine.”

A beat passed.

Then another.

“But if you were,” he added, stepping forward with lethal calm, “you’d never be left alone to tear yourself apart like this. You’d be resting. Healing. You’d have rules. Structure. And you’d know exactly what to expect when you broke them.”

Her whole body lit up like a live wire, heat sweeping through her in a wave she couldn’t suppress.

“I—don’t—” she tried, but her voice cracked on the third word.

He leaned down, not quite touching her, just close enough for her to feel the pull of him.

“That’s what scares you, isn’t it?” he murmured, voice all Dom, all control, all danger wrapped in velvet. “That you want that.”

Kai’s mouth opened—but no words came.

She was frozen, breathless, every nerve in her body standing at attention.

James smirked, straightened, taking a step back.

“Goodnight, Kai.”

And just like that, he left.

The door clicked softly behind him, leaving her staring into the silence, heart racing, knees weak, and one undeniable truth echoing in her bones:

She did want it.

She wanted him.

God help her.