28. Alex Sebring
Chapter 28
Alex Sebring
Magnolia lies across my chest, her fingers tracing slow, lazy circles against my ribs. She’s quiet, lost in that hazy place between exhaustion and contentment. Her warm breath whispers over my skin, her body relaxed, melted into me like she belongs here.
Because she does.
My arms tighten around her, an unconscious, possessive act, like my body is afraid she’ll slip away if I don’t hold on tight enough.
I stare at the ceiling, my mind still reeling.
I was rough with her. Desperate. I can still hear the way she gasped my name, feel the way her body arched beneath mine.
She took everything I gave her––every ounce of anger, frustration, and grief. But also every tangled, ugly thing I’ve carried since the day he stole her from my life.
Magnolia Steel is the only person who’s ever understood me without words. She always knows what I need.
Always.
I press a kiss to the top of her head, breathing in her soft, feminine scent. She smells of barely there vanilla and cherry blossoms.
It’s been months since I held her like this, and yet it doesn’t seem that long ago. It’s as though I never let her go. Like time bent around us, refusing to move forward until we were back together.
Where we belong.
She shifts, her cheek pressing deeper into my chest. My fingers skate across the curve of her bare back, a lazy caress. There’s peace in this––in the quiet after the storm.
The wreckage of the night lingers around us, but it’s distant, unimportant. Because she’s in my arms now.
And Magnolia Steel is my home.
I tighten my hold on her, letting my fingers drift over her spine, tracing the delicate dips and ridges. My body still hums with the remnants of adrenaline, the echoes of everything that’s happened tonight.
The fight.
The fury.
The way I took her like I was claiming her all over again.
A thought gnaws at the edges of my mind, clawing its way forward before I can shove it down. “Was I too rough?”
She shifts against me, tilting her chin up so our eyes meet in the dim light. There’s no hesitation when she shakes her head. “No. I needed that just as much as you did.”
Relief washes through me, but it’s tangled with something heavier—regret for the chaos of the night, for the destruction left in our wake. I don’t have to be looking at the wreckage to know it’s there. I can hear it in my head. The crash of furniture. The shatter of glass.
My throat tightens, jaw clenching at the memory.
I clear my throat. “I’ll take care of everything. Get the place put back together. Buy you whatever needs replacing.”
She shakes her head against my chest. “I’m not worried about it.”
“Not even a little?”
A small smile ghosts across her lips. “It’s just stuff, Alex.” Then her expression turns serious. “Except my music collection.”
That pulls a quiet laugh from me, the first one I’ve had in a long time. “Your music survived.”
“Thank God.”
The teasing lilt in her voice makes my chest ache. I love this side of her. The woman who can tease me even after the night we’ve had. The woman who doesn’t care that we destroyed furniture or scuffed walls… as long as her music is safe.
Magnolia Steel. A contradiction in the best way.
And she’s mine again. For the first time in months, I’m at peace.
She lifts her head, her eyes focusing on the ink etched over my heart. Her fingers trace the lines, careful and slow.
I say nothing. Just watch her.
She sits up, the sheet falling to her waist, and brushes her hair back as she studies the design. “This is new.”
I nod once, my chest tight. “Yeah.”
“What is it?”
“The manumea. It’s a rare Samoan bird. Beautiful. Endangered.”
She stares at it, saying nothing. Just studying.
“I got it for you.”
Her lips part, but the words don’t come. Her eyes shine, soft and wide.
“After everything fell apart, I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again. But I needed to mark what was real, what mattered most. Even if you never came back to me.”
She presses her palm over the tattoo like she’s trying to absorb it. “Alex––”
“The manumea, even when it’s alone, doesn’t stop searching for its mate. Because it mates for life.”
Her chin trembles, and she ducks her head, blinking fast. “You inked our love on your skin.”
“I inked the truth––my undying love for you.”
Her hand stays over my heart, and she doesn’t move for a long time. When she looks at me again, her voice is thick with emotion. “That’s the most beautiful thing anyone’s ever done for me.”
I slide my fingers along her jaw, gentle. “You were worth bleeding for.”
She leans in, her mouth brushing the ink over my heart, and it hits me—every beat, every thud in my chest, belongs to her.
We don’t speak for a while after that. There’s nothing to say that could top the silence we’ve earned—thick with meaning, heavy with everything that’s passed between us.
For the first time in a long time, I don’t feel like I’m bleeding out. I’m full—of her, of the truth, of the staggering relief that she’s here.
She shifts, her leg brushing mine beneath the sheet, her palm still resting over my heart like she’s reclaiming the piece of me I gave to her months ago.
She lays her head on the pillow beside mine, lashes fluttering as she studies me.
“Something we didn’t talk about earlier––”
I tilt my head, watching her. Waiting.
“You thought we were over, so how did you end up in Charleston?”
“I came to Dallas to see a doctor.”
Her entire body tenses, and she rolls on her side, pushing up onto her elbow to see my face. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
I roll and face her, smoothing a hand down her back. “I had a consultation with a surgeon about my ankle.”
Her brows pull together, and I can see the concern settling deep. “Has it been giving you more trouble?”
“No worse than before.” Except it hurts like hell right now after fighting with Tyson. I think I may’ve done something to it. But I’m keeping that to myself.
“There’s a specialist in Dallas who’s renowned for repairing Achilles injuries. He says mine didn’t heal right and I need another surgery.”
Now isn’t the time to bring up returning to rugby. I’ll tell her when the time is right. For now, it’s just a surgery that must be done regardless—one step in a long line of unknowns. There’s no sense in discussing the future when I’m not sure yet if I have a chance at playing again.
“When is the surgery?”
“Next week.”
The look on her face says wow, that’s soon . “Are you going back to Sydney until then?”
“That was the plan. I was already on my way back, but I came here instead.”
“What made you change course?”
She may not like my answer, but it’s the truth. “Our breakup wrecked me. I thought I might be able to move on if I had closure. But I know now how damn ridiculous that is. I was a fool to think I could ever move on from you.”
“How did you find me at the dance studio?”
“I went to Soul Sync. The client specialist assigned to me in Sydney was there. She said I might enjoy the aerial dance studio.”
Magnolia’s lips twitch. “You mean Whitney?”
“Maybe. I still don’t know her name.” I smirk. “Due to that strict-as-fuck Soul Sync privacy policy.”
“Well, well.” She shakes her head, amused. “Didn’t think Miss-By-the-Book Whitney had it in her.”
“Guess she does.” Thank God she wasn’t so uptight today.
She lets out a quiet laugh, but it fades as she studies my face. “What are we doing, Alex?”
There’s no hesitation on my part. No second-guessing. “Not sure. I only know that I can’t be apart from you. I won’t do it again.”
Relief––I see it in the way her shoulders relax, the way her fingers brush against my chest.
She relaxes, but my pulse ticks faster.
Tyson McRae is in love with her. And I know him. He might back down for now, but he’s not finished pursuing her.
“I can’t bear to be separated again.”
I bring her hand to my mouth, kissing the top. “We’ll find a way to make this work.”
“Will you stay with me until you go to Dallas?”
“Babe, you couldn’t pry me away from you with a crowbar.”
A small giggle bubbles out of her, bright and unexpected, and something deep in my chest loosens. God, I missed that sound. I’d forgotten how it could light up every dark corner inside me without even trying.
I brush a strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “Skip work tomorrow and spend the day with me.”
A regretful smile pulls at her lips. “I can’t. I have a new client coming in for a consultation.”
“Cancel it.”
She lets out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “Tempting, but I can’t afford to do that. In case you forgot, I lost my only client.”
Her expression sobers. “Starting a business isn’t easy. I need this client.”
She does. And I hate it. Not because she’s chasing her dream—there’s nothing I admire more about her—but because if it were up to me, she’d never have to worry about another client again. I’d take care of her. Make sure she had every resource, every opportunity, every single thing she needed to make this business thrive.
But Magnolia Steel isn’t a woman who’d ever accept that.
So I just nod. “I get it.”
She leans in, pressing a quick kiss to my lips. “My meeting’s early. We’ll have the rest of the day together.”
Kiss.
“And the night.”
Kiss.
“And every minute in between.”
“That is the best thing I’ve heard all night.”
She settles cross-legged beside me, knees splayed open, her body relaxed like she’s not on display. Her bare pussy gleams in the low light, tempting me like a fucking siren call. My fists clench against the need to shove her back onto the mattress and feast on her until she’s screaming my name.
“Tell me about your surgery.”
I divert my eyes away, running a hand through my hair. “The surgeon is one of the best—he specializes in reconstructive surgeries on sports injuries like mine. I’ll have to do my physical therapy there for twelve weeks.”
“Twelve weeks in Dallas? Shit.”
Fear flickers in her face. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled you’ll be in the U.S., but Dallas is so far away. It isn’t any better than Sydney. Not being together… is not being together, no matter where you are.”
I sit up, reaching for her hand, my thumb skimming over her knuckles. “That’s why I want you to come with me.”
“Alex––”
“I’m serious.”
“I just started my business. Leaving for months would be career suicide.”
“I understand, but we’ve lost so much time. Is there not any way you could come?”
She chews her bottom lip as she turns the idea over in her head. I can almost see the wheels turning, the tug-of-war behind her eyes—her need to be responsible battling whatever part of her wants to say yes.
“I could work remote in Dallas during the designing process. But most things require me to be in Charleston––handling permits, site visits.”
“Could you hire an assistant?”
“I could if I had the money, but I don’t.”
I open my mouth, but she cuts me off. “Don’t you dare say you’ll pay for an assistant.”
God, she knows me so well. “All right. Whatever time you’re able to give me, I want it.”
Her features soften. I can see the pull in her—toward me, toward us—but also the weight of everything she’s carrying. The business she’s built. The life she’s fought to create.
“You’ve worked hard to make your own way in the world. I respect that. It’s one of the things I love about you. And while I can predict you won’t, I wish you’d let me make it easier for you.”
Her eyes meet mine, unwavering. “I appreciate that more than you know, but this is something I have to do on my own.”
I nod, understanding, even if I don’t like it.
This quiet, determined strength is so her.
“All right, but will you please allow me one selfishness?”
“Depends on the selfishness.”
“I want to fly you to Dallas to be with me whenever you’re free––weekends, weekdays––I don’t care when. Even if I can only get an hour with you. Just say the word, and I’ll charter a plane to pick you up.”
A smile tugs at her lips, small but sure. “Okay, I’ll allow you that selfishness.”
I shift closer, cupping her face in my hands, brushing my thumb gently along her cheek. “We’re gonna make it work this time, favorite.”
Because I’ll have it no other way.