Chapter 48 48
Maverick’s laughter faded into soft breaths.
His head lolled against Alexander’s shoulder, tiny fingers still clutching his shirt as sleep claimed him completely.
Alexander froze.
Slowly—carefully—he adjusted his hold, cradling the boy properly.
Blair watched, unease crawling under her skin.
“He fell asleep,” she whispered, stepping closer. “He… does that.”
Alexander nodded. “He’s comfortable.”
Too comfortable, his mind added.
He carried Maverick to the couch and laid him down gently, tucking a throw blanket around him . When he straightened, his expression shifted—so subtle Blair almost missed it.
Almost.
“He must be tired,” he said casually. “Growing boys usually are.”
Blair nodded too quickly. “Yeah.”
Silence stretched.
Alexander turned to her then, leaning back against the counter, arms folding loosely. His voice was careless.
“So…”
He tilted his head slightly. “What about his father?”
Blair stiffened.
Her fingers tightened around the mug in her hands. The coffee inside rippled, betraying her.
Alexander saw everything.
“He’s… not in the picture,” she said carefully, eyes fixed anywhere but him.
“By choice?” he asked, tone neutral.
Her jaw tightened. “By his.”
A pause.
Alexander nodded slowly, as if processing new information—though his chest burned with a truth he already knew far too well.
“That’s… unfortunate,” he said. “Maverick seems like a good kid.”
“He is,” Blair replied instantly. Too fast. Too protective.
Then, softer, “He doesn’t need a father.”
Alexander’s eyes lifted to hers.
Something dark flickered there.
“Children always need someone,” he said quietly.
Blair shifted uncomfortably. “I’m enough.”
“I didn’t say you weren’t.”
The tension thickened, coiling between them.
Alexander glanced back at the sleeping boy, his voice dropping. “Does he ever ask about him?”
Blair swallowed.
“…Sometimes.”
Her shoulders slumped a little. “I tell him stories. Made-up ones.”
Alexander’s fingers curled slowly at his side.
“What kind of stories?”
She forced a weak smile. “That his dad is… far away. Busy. That he loves him, even if he can’t be here.”
Alexander closed his eyes for half a second.
Liar, his mind hissed—not at her, but at fate. At himself. At the man who had left her bleeding and alone five years ago.
When he opened them, his face was calm again.
“You’re doing your best,” he said softly.
Blair nodded, but her unease only grew.
Because the way he looked at Maverick—
The way his voice tightened when he spoke about fathers—
It felt like he already belonged to a story she was desperate to keep buried.
Alexander’s gaze lingered on Maverick one last time before returning to Blair.
His voice was gentle.
“Were you… in love with his father?”
The question landed like a blade.
Blair’s fingers loosened around the mug.
“No,” she said too quickly. “I—”
The cup slipped.
It shattered against the floor.
Coffee splashed. Porcelain cracked. Silence exploded.
“Blair—”
She gasped, stepping back, but it was too late. A sharp shard kissed her skin.
Blood bloomed along her finger.
Alexander was moving before she could react.
He caught her wrist, firmly. “Don’t move.”
“It’s nothing,” she said, breath uneven. “I’m fine—”
“You’re bleeding.”
He lifted her hand, eyes narrowing at the thin red line. Something dark flashed across his face—
Before she could protest, he brought her finger to his lips.
And licked the affected area slowly.
The world tilted.
Blair froze, staring at him, her breath caught painfully in her throat.
The warmth of his mouth, the unexpected intimacy—it sent a shock straight through her spine.
Alexander stilled.
Reality slammed back into him.
What the hell are you doing?
He dropped her hand instantly, stepping back like he’d been burned. His chest rose and fell unevenly.
“I—” He dragged a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, Blair. I didn’t mean to.”
His voice was rough and Controlled.
Blair’s heart was pounding so loudly she was sure he could hear it.
“It’s okay,” she whispered, though nothing about it felt okay.
Alexander turned away, fists clenched at his sides.
You’re losing control, his mind snarled.
You can’t scare her. You can’t touch her like she already belongs to you.
But another thought followed—darker and more dangerous.
No one hurts her. Not even by accident. Not even herself.
He exhaled slowly, then faced her again, his expression carefully neutral.
“I shouldn’t have asked about him,” he said. “About… the father.”
Blair nodded, bending to pick up the broken pieces with shaking hands. “Some questions are better left unanswered.”
Alexander watched her bleed onto a tissue, jaw tightening.
Unanswered—or buried.
Either way, he already knew one thing with terrifying certainty:
He was obsessed.
And the idea of her ever being hurt—by memory, by men, by the past—made something feral stir inside him.
Something he wasn’t sure he could keep caged much longer.
Blair cleared her throat, clearly forcing herself back into the room.
“So,” she said lightly, too lightly, as she wrapped her finger with a tissue, “you never told me where your home is.”
Alexander blinked. “My… home?”
She nodded, pretending to be casual. “You saved our lives. The least I can do is send you free coffee sometimes. Consider it a thank-you.”
His mind blanked.
My address?
My real address?
The Burke mansion with biometric gates and armed security?
He opened his mouth.
Closed it.
“Well—uh—” He laughed awkwardly, a sound that almost startled him because it was so… human. “It’s… not really worth the trip.”
Blair raised an eyebrow. “Is it that far?”
“No. Yes. I mean—” He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly flustered. “It’s… under renovation.”
She smiled, amused now. “Your home?”
“My building,” he corrected too quickly. “Old pipes. Loud drills. Not very… coffee-friendly.”
Blair chuckled softly. “You’re funny, Alex.”
If only you knew, he thought grimly.
“Well,” she continued, not pressing, “whenever you’re ready, you can tell me. Coffee is kind of my thing.”
“I noticed,” he said, grateful for the escape. “You’re… really good at it.”
Her smile softened. “It’s all I have.”
Alexander nodded slowly, committing the sound of her voice to memory like everything else about her. “Then I’ll look forward to it. The coffee.”
She stood, glancing toward Maverick on the couch. “I should get him to bed properly.”
“Of course,” he said quickly, stepping aside. “I’ll—uh—I should go too.”
He paused at the door, turning back once more. “Thank you. For… trusting me enough to let me in.”
Blair hesitated, then smiled. “Thank you for not asking too many questions.”
Their eyes held for a beat too long.
Alexander left before he lost control again, his heart pounding like he’d just escaped something dangerous.
And for the first time in years,
he didn’t know which scared him more—
That Blair was finally within reach…
or that he might not survive wanting her this badly.