Chapter 22
Payson
I don’t remember showering and laying down.
I just remember the quiet. The kind that settles in after a full day when everything finally stops spinning.
After the adrenaline begins to fade away and your body realizes it’s exhausted, though my mind is wide awake.
The soft light of the city still glows through the windows as I lie curled up on my side.
I could black out the room. Make it as dark as my soul, but there is something calming about watching the glow reflect onto the walls.
My eyes start to close. My breathing begins to slow, and I find myself drifting off.
Then…click. My eyes snap open. For a second, I don’t move.
Don’t breathe. Don’t even fully think. Why am I being so weak all of a sudden?
“Ashton?” I mumble, my voice thick with sleep as I push myself up onto my elbows, squinting toward the door.
A shadow moves before he steps into the light.
Not Ashton. Ledgar. My entire body tenses instantly, the sleepiness disappearing like it never came to begin with.
“What the hell do you think you are doing?” I snap, sitting up fully now and pulling the sheets tighter around me. “Get out.”
He doesn’t move. Doesn’t even hesitate like I didn’t just tell him to leave. “I said get out,” I repeat, forcing myself to hold his gaze. “You don’t just get to let yourself into my room,” I add, swinging my legs over the side of the bed.
“It’s mine.” I freeze at his words, vaguely aware that my nightgown is bunched at my waist. “What?” I ask, like maybe I heard him wrong. His gaze doesn’t waver as he scans my body.
“This penthouse,” he says evenly. “It’s mine.”
Of course it is. Like, why wouldn’t it be?
I huff a breath as I push myself to my feet.
“Great,” I mutter. “Then you can have it back.” I move to step past him, but he moves first, blocking the door.
My steps falter as I nearly run into him.
And it’s then that the air begins to thicken.
The space around me no longer feels like mine.
“You don’t want to do that,” I say sharp and immediate.
“Try me.”
Theres no force behind his words like he’s not really going to try and stop me. My breath hitches, and I hate that he notices. “Give me a reason,” I whisper to him, refusing to back down even though every nerve in my body is suddenly aware of how close he is.
His head tilts just a fraction, while his eyes stay locked on mine.
He’s doesn’t try to touch me, not yet, but somehow I can already feel his hands roaming my body.
He leans in just enough that his whisper is barely audible.
“I can make everything disappear.” Thump.
Thump. “At least for tonight.” Thump. Thump.
My heart is skipping at the thought of staying here...alone...with him. Standing this close to him, with the door just inches away, and nothing else to catch my attention. Leaving doesn’t feel like an option anymore. It feels like running.
“If you want to leave, go. But don’t pretend it’s because you want to.
” Ouch. I push past him, putting distance between us like it will help me think more clearly.
Like it will help control the way my heart has been pulsating in my chest ever since he stepped into view.
I stop near the windows again, folding my arms over my chest, staring out at the view I’ve come to admire.
Trying to convince myself that this isn’t who I am.
That there is no reason I have to stay here.
But my mind keeps telling me that there’s no reason not to.
What do I have to lose? Other than my mind.
I don’t hear him move. Don’t see it until his reflection comes into view.
I take a deep breath. Should I turn around?
Should I say something? I should end this before it’s too late.
Before it becomes something I can’t bring myself to walk away from.
But I don’t turn around, just stare at the city below.
Seconds pass, the quiet eating away at me, until I’m forced to turn around.
My body brushes against his as I fully turn to face him.
My pulse spikes as his gaze drops…slow, intentional, down my body and then lifts back to me face.
And that look…. It’s all knowing. Like he’s been waiting for this moment since we met.
I keep telling myself I should leave. Just walk out that door.
That there is nothing stopping me, but I don’t.
Instead, I hold his stare. Daring him to make the first move.
To prove to me that he can really make everything disappear, if just for a little awhile.
I can feel his breath on my neck and his hand lightly brushing against my arm.
I inhale sharply, and he pauses, giving me the chance to run.
An out. I don’t take it. His hand presses more firmly against my skin, sliding so slowly along my arm.
My eyes fall shut as his breath tickles my ear.
“Still want me to leave?” he murmurs, his voice low and gravely.
The sound of it sends shivers down my spine.
I shake my head, answering him before I can stop myself. My chance to leave. Gone, without a trace.
His other hand slowly finds my waist like he’s trying to commit my body to memory before he does anything else.
I hesitantly lean into him, finding comfort in the warmth of his body against mine.
He notices my hesitation and grips me to him tighter, holding me there.
My mind is screaming to pull away but his touch feels so damn good.
My heart is racing at a steady rhythm now, and my arms slowly unwrap themselves, wanting to reach up and touch him, but think better of it.
I’m losing myself in the way his touch lights up my body.
The way his breath tickles my skin igniting a fire deep inside me.
The way his scent corrupts my own, consuming me in a way I can’t get enough of.
“Do you want me to stop?” he says, barely a beat above a whisper.
“No,” I exhale, my voice trembling. He moves before the word barely leaves my lips, spinning me around to face him, keeping our bodies close.
If he can make me feel anything other than the pain…he can have me.