Chapter Thirty-Five
Savannah
It’s peaceful here, impossibly so, but my mind is anything but. I sit on the edge of the bed, basking in the golden streaks of the golden morning light, staring out at the ocean beyond the wide windows. Waves crash rhythmically against the shore, their sound soothing yet distant, like background noise to the storm brewing in my head.
How the hell did my life change so much, so fast?
A month ago, my biggest worry was figuring out how to escape awkward Tinder dates and survive another school year without completely losing my sanity. Now, I’m hiding out on a private coastal island with a man who—let’s be honest—might as well have walked straight out of one of my forbidden fantasies. Only, he’s real.
I run my hands through my hair, letting out a shaky breath. He’s completely upended everything I thought I wanted, everything I thought I knew about myself. He was just supposed to be the cocky delivery guy who always pushed my buttons, flashing that arrogant smirk and leaving me blushing and annoyed in equal measure. But now? Now he’s . . . more. So much more.
He’s protective and commanding, yet unexpectedly kind. The way he looks at me—like I’m the only thing in the world that matters to him—it’s as thrilling as it is terrifying. It’s the kind of look I’ve dreamed about but never truly believed I deserved.
And then there’s the way he touches me.
God, the way he touches me. He knows my body better than I do, teasing out reactions I didn’t think I was capable of. It’s intoxicating, the way he can make me forget every fear, every doubt, with just a single brush of his lips or the firm grip of his hands. But this isn’t just physical—it’s emotional, too. He makes me feel seen in a way I’ve never felt before, like he’s peeled back every layer of my defenses and laid me bare.
And yet, I’m still conflicted.
I rub my temples, trying to organize the whirlwind of emotions threatening to consume me. This is the same man who has been essentially stalking me—granted, it was to keep me safe, but still. He broke into my life, quite literally, and forced me to stay in his world. That should be unforgivable. And part of me wants to hold onto that anger, that sense of violation. But I think about the way he’s protected me, the way he’s held me like I’m something precious, and I . . .
Damn it, Savannah, get it together.
I stand abruptly, pacing the room in frustration. How did he break down my walls so easily? How did he get under my skin, in my head, and . . . in my heart? Because, whether I like it or not, that’s exactly where he is. I stop mid-step, gripping the edge of the counter as the weight of that realization slams into me. I’ve spent so long protecting myself, keeping everyone at arm’s length, yet here he is—blazing through my defenses like they were built from sand. The thought terrifies me, but what’s worse is how much I don’t want to rebuild them. I don’t want to shut him out, even if it means risking everything. Because in his presence, I feel seen. Known. Wanted. And that’s a kind of danger I’m not sure I can walk away from.
And that’s the most unsettling part of all of this—how quickly he’s become essential to me. He’s a force of nature I can’t fight against. It’s not just the vulnerability that scares me; it’s the thought of surrendering completely, only to find myself alone if he decides to walk away.
This is the furthest I’ve ever let anyone in. There’s no comparison, not even close. It’s always been easier to keep people at arm’s length, to avoid the risk of being hurt. But Rylan . . . he’s already broken through, and I don’t know how to deal with that.
The memory of last night flashes through my mind, his hands on my skin, his lips tracing paths that left me trembling. It wasn’t just the pleasure—though, God, there was plenty of that. It was the way he looked at me afterward, like I was something sacred. Like I was his. And that—that terrifies me more than anything.
Because what if I want to be?
A soft knock at the door pulls me out of my spiraling thoughts.
“Savannah? You okay in there?” Rylan’s voice cuts through the chaos in my mind, the deep tone soothing.
I hesitate for a moment before answering. “Yeah, I’m fine.” It’s a lie, of course, but what else am I supposed to say?
The door creaks open slightly, and he steps inside. His presence instantly fills the room. He’s wearing that damned panty-melting smirk, but there’s a gentleness in his eyes that makes my heart ache.
“You don’t look fine,” he says, leaning casually against the doorframe. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, mo stóirín?”
I cross my arms, trying to put up some kind of defense. “Just . . . thinking.”
“Dangerous,” he teases and steps closer. “Want to talk about it?”
His sincerity catches me off guard, and I chance a glance at him. “Why are you being so nice to me?” I blurt out.
He tilts his head, studying me like I’m some kind of puzzle he’s determined to solve. “Because you deserve it. Because you’re worth it.”
My throat tightens, and I look away, unable to meet his gaze. “How can you know that, Rylan? You don’t even know me.”
“Don’t I?” he says softly and steps even closer. “I know you’re strong, even when you don’t feel like it. I know you’re brave, even when you’re scared out of your mind. And I know you’re trying so damn hard to keep it together, even though everything around you is falling apart.”
His words hit me like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, I can’t breathe. The air seems to thicken around me, heavy and oppressive, pressing against my chest like a weight I can’t lift. How does he do that? How does he see me so clearly?
“Rylan . . .” My voice cracks, and he closes the distance between us. His hands gently cup my face, warm and steady, his calloused palms grounding me. His thumbs brush my cheeks softly, a quiet reassurance that he’s here with me.
“You don’t have to do this alone, Savannah,” he says, his green eyes boring into mine. “I’m here. For you. Always.”
And just like that, the walls I’ve spent years building crumble completely.
Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, and I blink them back furiously. “I don’t know how to do this,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how to let someone in.”
“You’re already doing it,” he says, his thumbs brushing against my cheeks. “And I’m not going anywhere. No matter how long it takes. No matter how hard it gets.”
His words undo me. Wholly. And finally, I let myself lean on someone else. Rylan pulls me into his arms, holding me gently, preciously cherishing me.. I let myself believe it—at least, for now.