Chapter 73 That works
"I’m not being dramatic!"
"Yes, you are."
"I chose to stay because I wanted to spend time with you," he confesses, his voice trembling with a sudden, raw honesty that catches me off guard. "But you’d clearly much rather just sit at your stupid fancy desk and read your stupid documents."
He glares at the papers in front of me.
I’m both intrigued and deeply amused, but before I can say anything, his gaze drops back to mine, hard and unforgiving. "And next time, don’t promise to do something if you have zero intention of actually following through. It’s a dick move."
He starts to walk away. I don't let him get two steps in before I reach out and snag the hem of the hoodie, bunching the thick fabric in my fist. He clicks his tongue in annoyance, yanking forward, but I don't budge.
I lean back slightly in the chair, keeping my grip firm. “Are you intentionally picking a fight?”
He throws me a glare over his shoulder. “Why the fuck would I do that?”
“For my attention,” I say easily. “Obviously.”
“I want nothing to do with a liar’s attention," he retorts, his eyes flashing with a cold, righteous fire.
I don't argue. Instead, I swivel my chair to the side, planting my feet firmly on the floor, and use a sudden burst of strength to pull him toward me. He lets out a startled curse as he loses his balance, crashing down onto my lap.
"Let go of me!" he hisses, scrambling like a trapped cat, his elbows knocking against my chest as he tries to find purchase to stand back up. "I mean it Bastian, let go!"
I don't. I wrap both arms around his torso, locking my fingers together to create a human vise. "Quit struggling," I murmur against the small of his back. "Didn't you just say you wanted to spend time with me? Here I am. Spending time."
The fight in him doesn't die instantly, but the frantic energy begins to bleed out into a stiff, vibrating silence. His muscles are still corded and tense beneath my touch. I can feel the heat of him, the way he’s breathing in short, jagged bursts. Maybe he’s pissed, or maybe he’s just realizing that sitting on my lap is a far more intimate position than he’d bargained for.
"Relax, Kaden," I urge, my voice softening, losing its edge of sarcasm.
It takes a long, heavy second where I wonder if he’s going to swing at me, but eventually, his shoulders drop. He settles into me, though his posture remains wary. He turns his head to look at me, his eyes darting over my features as if searching for the lie.
"I don't go around letting guys jerk off on my face for the hell of it," he suddenly says, his voice low and cutting. "I only said yes earlier because you promised. And now you’re going back on your word." He pauses, his gaze narrowing, turning clinical. "Were you taking advantage? Did you say that just to see if you could get me to do it, knowing you’d never actually follow through?"
I let out a frayed, weary breath, the sound catching in the quiet of the study. "Of course I wasn't."
The accusation tastes bitter. I’ve done a lot of questionable things in my life, but "taking advantage" isn't a label I care to wear. The idea alone makes my stomach tighten unpleasantly. I don't want him to think he was just a box I checked off a list of curiosities.
"Is there really nothing else you want to ask instead?" I ask, my grip on him tightening just a fraction. "Literally anything other than that?"
He studies me closer now, his suspicion morphing into something more contemplative. His hands come up, almost unconsciously, to rest over my forearms where they’re wrapped around his waist. The touch is light, but it feels like a brand.
"Is it really that big of an ask?"
He has no idea.
I swallow hard, the lump in my throat feeling like a stone. I look him dead in the eye, dropping the mask for a split second because he deserves that much. "It really is," I admit, my voice barely audible. "I’d just... I’d really rather not."
My thumb drags once against the fabric of the hoodie at his stomach before I force my hand still again.
He nods slowly, the defiance in his eyes softening almost imperceptibly. "Okay," he says. "I won't ask about it again."
"Thanks," I murmur, the word feeling heavy and inadequate. My hands slip beneath the hoodie almost automatically, settling against the warm bare skin at his waist. His body heat seeps into my palms instantly. Soft and alive. His eyes flick briefly to my mouth before he reaches up and wraps a hand around the back of my neck. Then he leans down and kisses me.
It catches me off guard.
Not the kiss itself, I think my body knows Kaden too well for that now, but the softness of it. The lack of fight. The way he kisses me like this is something familiar between us already. Something natural.
Like we’ve done this a hundred times before.
My body reacts before my mind can catch up, recognizing the taste of him instantly. I kiss him back immediately. Careful in a way I don’t know how to be with anyone else. I can taste the wine still lingering on his tongue, dark and rich and faintly sweet, and I deepen the kiss instinctively, like I’m trying to intoxicate myself with it. With him.
Every single time this happens, there’s still that split second of shock in me. The sheer unfamiliarity of having someone else this close. Lips against mine. Breath mixing. Hands touching me without permission feeling necessary.
Even my heart rate kicks harder against my ribs because this isn’t something I do. It’s never been something I do. And yet with Kaden, it keeps happening. Like my body’s bypassing me entirely. He kisses like he means it. Like he sinks into it completely. His thumb brushes once against the side of my neck, and something hot twists low in my stomach.
Then he breaks the kiss, not fully. He stays close enough that our mouths still almost brush when either of us breathes. His hand slides from the back of my neck to my cheek instead, holding me there lightly. We just stare at each other for a while. Breathing the same air.
As if he can read the frantic, messy gears turning in my head, he asks, "Why did you run off that night at Orphic?"
The memory hits me with the force of a physical blow. I remember the taste of him, the salt and the heat, and the way I’d taken every part of him until I was full of it. And then, the crushing, claustrophobic realization of what I’d allowed to happen....the loss of control, the breach of my own carefully guarded perimeter.
I stiffen, Kaden clocks the shift in my expression immediately. "What?" he asks, his voice bordering on a challenge. "You don't wanna answer that either?"
I almost say yes. But the look in his eyes....searching, curious, and strangely vulnerable...stops me. I sigh mentally, trying to find a way to phrase the truth without stripping myself bare. Something controlled. Something manageable.
"It triggered something," I manage to say, my voice sounding tight. "Something... unpleasant."
Kaden’s brow furrows, a flicker of offense crossing his features. "Unpleasant?"
"It had nothing to do with you," I add quickly, hoping to blunt the edge of the word. "It’s just my wiring, I guess." I stop there. Even that feels like I’ve handed him a map to a place I don't want him visiting.
He studies me for a long beat, then let’s out a slow breath. "Okay." He gestures toward the documents scattered across the desk. "You want to get back to work?"
I shake my head, my gaze fixed on a few curled strands of hair at the nape of his neck. They look impossibly soft, a tiny detail of him I hadn't noticed until this moment. I have the sudden irrational urge to touch them.
"What if we do this," I suggest, my hands shifting slightly against his waist. "Ask whatever you want to ask. If I’m alright with responding, I will. If I’m not... I’ll just tell you."
He searches my face like he’s checking whether I actually mean it. Then his lips curve into a genuine, small smile. "Yeah," he says. "That works."