Chapter 44
LEX
Fucking Carrington Row because I’m a goddamn good boyfriend.
“Tell me again why we had to get here this early?” I say crouched under a speaker rig holding a coil of cable. It’s hot as fuck. I’ve already sweated through my shirt. And to top it off all, someone just spilled a Celsius on my boot. Thank you very much Little Whitmore.
This is hell. Or at least Wexley’s version of it.
Knox grins from behind the soundboard, smug as always. “Welcome to the Trifecta Boyfriend Club, my guy.”
I stare at him like I might throw him into the pool.
He throws me a roll of gaffer tape. “The Row Pool Party is a big deal, especially for the girls. Think of it like the Met Gala but with abs, water guns, and a lot of jello shots.” He flicks a switch and the pool lights strobe. “And thanks to us, way better lighting.”
“Lex, we’re a brand, remember?” Ellie chirps from across the pool deck.
She’s arranging trays of jello shot syringes like it’s a military op.
Clipboard in one hand, rhinestone walkie-talkie in the other.
She’s in full command mode, coordinating chaos with a smile that could get her out of war crimes.
She struts past me and flicks my shoulder. “Thousands of our loving fans will be tuning in tonight to see this party. It’s a big deal, babe.”
“Loving fans,” I mutter. “Right, like Luca.”
Yeah, Bella told me all about that motherfucker after I took her out on the pier. Asshole thinks he can message her. Watch her. Obsess over her. If I ever find that fucker.
“Any luck finding our little poet freak?” I ask.
Knox twists a few dials, cycling through colors until the whole setup glows electric blue. “Nah, nothing yet. He’s been quiet. Bella said he hasn’t sent shit since around Fight Night. So, what, like two months? Maybe he finally found a new obsession.”
“He’s quiet because I messaged the asshole after our date at the pier”
Knox’s head snaps up. “You what?”
“I said I mess—”
“I heard you, dumbass.” He cuts me off and reaches for my phone. “Let me see what the hell you did before I have to start planning your funeral.”
@BarinovUnhinged
Stay the fuck away from my girl.
“Subtle,” Knox laughs.
@LucaWasHere
Ah, the brawler. You move so fast.
Tell me, Lexie… think it’ll last?
Does she flinch when your temper slips?
Or just bite back between your lips?
@BarinovUnhinged
She doesn’t flinch, asshole. Not with me. She leans in.
And if you ever touch her feed again… I’ll find you.
Try typing with bone dust, fucker.
“Bone dust, Lex?”
“What?” I shrug as Knox just shakes his head and keeps scrolling.
“Nothing.”
@LucaWasHere
Such fury. Is that what she dreams?
All fists and fire and cracked extremes?
You don’t guard her. You just burn bright.
Which makes her so much easier to watch at night.
@BarinovUnhinged
Cute poems. Real original.
All that rhyming shit just proves one thing…
You’ve got time to obsess, but not the balls to act.
You hide in the dark like mold behind the walls.
Say her name again and I’ll make you choke on it.
@LucaWasHere
I wait in silence, sweet Lexie, still.
There’s deeper power in sharpened will.
You chase her fire, you beg for her name.
But embers don’t ever burn the same.
She dances for you, puts on the show,
But curtains drop, and truths still glow.
You see devotion, you taste her skin.
But memory’s where I always win.
You bleed for her, wear pain with pride,
But would she fight, or just run and hide?
Go home, Lexie. Let the dream decay.
Some fires burn brighter once they betray.
@BarinovUnhinged
STAY.
THE FUCK.
AWAY.
@LucaWasHere
You bring the storm, all fists and flame,
But I was there before she had a name.
I know her hums, the way she folds,
The twelve-note rhythm no one holds.
And that, sweet Lexie, is where you fall.
You chased her light. You risked it all.
You crave her crown. You want her vow.
But we built a wall. She can’t escape now.
@BarinovUnhinged
You like walls? Good. Because I’ll bury you behind one.
My girl will never fear again, not when she knows that the monster’s fucking dead.
“Smooth, Barinov,” Knox mutters, tossing my phone back like it’s contagious.
I catch it, shove it in my pocket, and finish taping down the last cable.
Knox shakes his head, “You’re a psycho, man. Luca writes poems and you write death threats. It’s like a match made in hell.”
I stand, stretch out my back, and roll my shoulders. Try to breathe, and then I feel her. Like static in my blood. I don’t even have to turn around. I know it’s her.
Cherry vanilla. That damn scent punches me in the chest. Sweet, dark, and fucking lethal. It wraps around me, crawls under my skin, and makes the whole Row vanish.
I spin fast, grab her like I’ve been starving for a hundred years. One hand in her hair, the other locking around her waist as I slam my mouth to hers. It’s not a kiss. It’s a claim. Tongue. Teeth. Obsession.
My fucking girl. Mine.
She lets out the softest noise against my mouth, and I swear to God, if we weren’t surrounded I’d drop to my knees right now and feast on her sweet pussy like I’m dying and she’s my last meal. Because I know her. She’s probably already soaked for me. She always is.
I pull back just barely, breathing hard. “Hey, baby.”
She’s flushed. Dazed. “Hey, I’m glad you’re here.”
“Oh yeah, me too—” Knox cuts in full of sarcasm, “—if he was actually doing anything. Bella, you’re distracting my help.”
I don’t even look up. Just keep my hands on her. “Cool it, Bestie. I’m on my five-minute union break.”
Bella arches a brow. “Bestie?”
I shrug. “Yeah. Me and Knox? We’re basically bros now.”
Knox groans. Ellie cackles from somewhere behind a tray of glitter shots. Bella just laughs and presses a kiss to my cheek before trying to walk away.
“Nope. Not happening,” I say as I catch her wrist. “Did you miss the part about a five-minute break?”
She turns back, amused. That look on her face.
All smug and sweet and half-daring me to do something about it.
I grab her by the waist, pick her up, and carry her like they do in those cheesy romance movies.
Like a bride being taken across the threshold of some overpriced honeymoon suite. She squeals.
“Lex!”
“What? It’s the rules, baby. You’re legally required to sit on my lap until the five minute buzzer goes off.”
She laughs but doesn’t fight me. I carry her across the lawn toward one of the cabanas near the back draped in gauzy curtains. I drop onto the cushioned bench with her still in my arms, settling her in my lap. She lands with a soft oof, hands braced on my chest. Right where I want her.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Yeah.” I run my hands up her thighs, slow and steady. “But I’m yours.”
She freezes for half a second. I feel it. The goosebumps rising on her perfect skin. The change in her breath. The way her body reacts before her words do. Her steel-gray eyes lock on mine and I swear to God, I need her. I’ve never needed anything like I need her.
Not air.
Not blood.
I want her so bad it fucking hurts. Hurts to hold her. Hurts not to fuck her. Hurts to pretend that this is enough.
We haven’t had sex. Not yet. She’s only let me use my hands and even that feels like a gift I didn’t earn.
A mercy.
A tease.
Deep down, I think she’s still waiting for Cade.
I told myself I’d be patient. That I’d let her come to me. That I’d earn it. But fuck, it’s torture. Because I see it in her eyes. Every goddamn time I touch her. Every time she gasps, trembling under my fingers, hips jerking, thighs shaking, and screaming, “Lex… Oh God… Lex…”
Seeing my girl come undone like that? It’s beautiful. It’s fucking ruin.
We haven’t said I love you yet. Not with words. But I see it. In the way she clings to me after shattering from my touch. In the way she looks at me when she thinks I’m not watching. In the way her breathing changes when I say baby in that voice she pretends doesn’t undo her.
It fucking does.
She loves me. And she will say it. Eventually. Right before I fuck the living daylights out of her.
God, I need to get laid.
She pulls back just enough to meet my eyes. “Are you sure you’re up for all of this?” she asks, voice quiet and nodding toward the pool. “You’re a Hollow King, remember? You gonna be okay at a Row party, baby?”
When she calls me baby? Good. Fucking. Lord.
My cock’s hard enough to punch through concrete.
Little Lex hears it and practically salutes like he’s going into battle.
Doesn’t matter where we are—on a mission, in a Hollow King’s meeting, the middle of a goddamn lecture—she says that word and I’m one breath away from dragging her into the nearest dark corner and showing her what, baby, really gets her.
“I’m not here for The Row.” I dip my head closer, lips brushing her neck. “I’m here for you.”
“Lex!” Knox yells from across the pool. “Hurry up, man. I need your help with these bar lights.”
“Almost finished, Bestie,” I yell back.
I drag my eyes down her body and back up, my smile pure heat. “So as you can see, I’m basically the lighting intern of the year now. Where’s my reward?”
She laughs. Then she leans back just a little, still perched in my lap, her fingers playing with the edge of my collar. “You’ll be rewarded. Just… promise you won’t kill Cal.”
My smile fades a little.
“There will be chairs tonight,” she says carefully. “And knowing The Order, they’ll want a lot of them.”
I narrow my eyes. “Define a lot.”
“Enough.” She arches a brow. “Enough to keep the crowd screaming. Enough to keep The Row boys drooling. Enough to get us featured on at least twenty different high-profile Instagram and TikTok accounts by midnight.”
“Cool. Love that for me,” I groan. “Can’t wait to watch the quarterback get a lap dance from my girlfriend while I stand in the shadows like a divorced husband at his ex-wife’s wedding.”