Chapter 177

Chapter 177
It’s barely seven. The sky's still blushing with the last of dawn, and I’m cursing every life decision that’s led me to this moment, namely, agreeing to run with Adam.
“What kind of demon takes over my body every morning?” I pant, dramatically throwing my head back. “Because I know it’s not me making these choices.”
He glances over his shoulder, that unfairly hot smirk spreading across his face. “The kind of demon that loves me.”
“Love is not supposed to feel like cardiac arrest,” I groan, stopping and clutching my chest. “I think I’m dying. Call 911.”
Without breaking stride, he casually pulls my phone from the pocket of his sweatpants, hands it to me like he’s handing over a snack, and picks up speed. “Here. Call them yourself.”
I gasp. “Traitor!” I yell at his retreating figure.
He stops about thirty feet ahead, breath pluming in the morning air, turns toward me with a grin. Then his phone’s in his hand and mine pings a second later.
I frown, expecting some smug, motivational meme. But when I glance down at the screen, my heart stutters in my chest, five tickets. Arcadia Bloom. Paris.
I blink. “You’re kidding.”
He pulls an envelope from his pocket, lifts it like bait. “Come and get them.”
And suddenly, I’m a goddamn Olympian. My legs find strength I didn’t know they had, and I sprint toward him like my life depends on it.
I jump straight into his arms, nearly knocking him off balance. My arms and legs wrapping around him. “Are you serious? Are these real? Oh my god, Addy and Xan are going to lose their actual minds!”
He chuckles, the sound low and warm against my ear. “If you make it home before me, they’re yours.”
I pull back just enough to raise a brow at him. “Please. I’ll have them either way. You love me too much.”
His smile shifts into something softer. Deeper. He nods slowly. “Yeah. I do.”
And the way he says it? Not light. Not casual. Just full, steady truth. Like it lives in his bones.
I let out another scream, kiss him so hard he makes a low sound of surprise, then snatch the envelope from his hand and peek inside like a kid on Christmas. “Oh my god. You got VIP tickets. How're you real?!”
When I ask, “Who’s the fifth one for?” he shrugs. “Just in case Jax wants to come.”
I scoff and kiss him again, quick and fierce, then drop to the ground and take off running. “Try and catch up!”
Behind me, I hear his amused curse. I don’t even care that my lungs are burning again.
He told me he used to run to escape everything eating him alive. Now? He runs because he wants to. Because we do it together.
Okay.....mostly together. I try. Some mornings, anyway.
But this right here...us? It’s progress. We’re still messy. We still have crap to unpack, wounds to heal. But we’re learning. We’re working. We’re getting there. And I believe we actually will.

THE END

Author's Note
To my lovely readers ❤️
This story had been brewing in my head for over a year before I gained enough courage to write it. It has gone through a whole lot of editing along the way. Anyways, all I wanna say is thanks to all of you that stuck it out to the end. I know it was quite a roller coaster of emotions, and enough baggage to start its own lost and found department. But you all tuned in for every chapter, and for that I'm so grateful.
I wanted to write a story that explored what happens when two people who are both too damaged and too drawn to each other collide. For me, it wasn't just about romance, it was about identity, trust, control, and emotional survival. Something that didn't shy away from darker emotions. A story that let its characters break, spiral, fight, and still crave love. And I hope I delivered at least some of that.
Now I think we can all agree we need a palate cleanser after Adam and Layla....which is why I'd like to present a sneak peak into my next book, (Losing Control), a spin off featuring Xander and Jax. The official book will drop sometime soon, so please stay tuned😘

XANDER'S POV
The first time I saw him, he was covered in blood.
Not his.
I’d just started working at Zig’s, still figuring shit out, walking home with my headphones in when I heard it. A groan. Faint. Human. I followed it like an idiot, thinking someone needed help.
What I found was a man getting the hell beaten out of him in an alley.
And Jax was doing the beating.
We locked eyes.
Just for a second.
But that second changed everything. When his dark eyes locked on mine, it was like he was daring me.... daring me to come closer, to get fucked up in the kind of filthy that burns your soul and leaves you begging for more.
There was something in him, beneath the fury, the ice, the complete lack of fucks....something raw. Something broken.
He’s chaos incarnate. A maniac. Unapologetic and reckless.
A walking red flag with a cigarette between his lips and violence in his veins. He doesn’t flirt...he taunts. Doesn’t touch....he claims. He hurts people and gets off on it.
And I can’t stay the fuck away.
It's been two years since that encounter, and now he's appeared out of nowhere. My brain keeps warning me that he's always cold one minute, wired with heat the next. That he lives like he’s already dead. But when it comes to him, my cock does the thinking , and it particularly likes how he kisses like he’s trying to set you on fire from the inside out.
I hate him.
I fucking want him.
And every time we’re in the same room, something primal takes over, like I’m conditioned to want his hands on me, in me, choking me while he whispers things no decent person should enjoy.
This is a fucked-up obsession.
And I don’t know how to stop.....