Chapter Sixteen
LUKE
Mila’s house carried scars if you looked too long—the carpet frayed at the baseboards, paint chipped around the windows, and the blinds leaned crooked. Even a faint water stain had spread across the ceiling. Her dresser drawer stuck just enough that you had to hip-check it to get it closed.
But I wouldn’t have been anywhere else. Because she was here. And wherever Mila was—that was where I wanted to be.
She slept curled into me, arm draped across my chest. Her breath was steady against my skin. I hadn’t slept much. A few hours, broken. Every time I closed my eyes, last night replayed like a reel spun in my head.
Her skin still burned against mine. Her mouth.
The sounds she made when she let go—I felt them in my chest hours later, pulsing as if they hadn’t faded at all.
Every touch left a mark I couldn’t shake.
And she’d chosen me—not just for a kiss, not just to let me close, but for all of it.
Trusting me enough to go there after everything between us.
It told me she was right here with me, even if she wasn’t ready to put it into words.
And I wasn’t about to tell her how much it meant.
I couldn’t. The truth was simple—she was it.
The one. I loved her. More with every damn day, whether I wanted to or not.
And maybe saying it—even just to myself—was reckless.
In our volatile world, love wasn’t just a choice.
It was a weakness someone could weaponize.
I’d never felt this with anyone else, and I knew I never would.
Growing up, I’d had to see too much too fast—shady deals, adults who lied with a straight face, loyalty that cracked the second it was tested.
It taught me to hold things close, never hand anyone leverage they could use against me.
Handing her that kind of power would tilt everything—make me the one reaching, the one at risk.
And if she ever walked away again, I didn’t know if I would survive it.
From the first moment I’d seen her, something had clicked.
Not just her beauty—though that was enough to knock the air out of me—but her fire.
Her stubbornness. The way she carried herself as though she refused to be owned, even when she was cornered.
That spirit had lit something in me I hadn’t been able to put out since.
Other guys noticed. They always had—the way heads turned when she walked in. They wanted her. But I’d already had her fire, her trust. No one was taking that from me again.
I shifted slightly, my arm numb from holding her all night. The mattress creaked, soft against the worn frame. She stirred, lashes fluttering, before her eyes blinked open.
It was still dark, but the edges of the blinds glowed faint, a thread of dawn leaking through. Her mom could walk in any minute, and finding me here wouldn’t play well.
I brushed a strand of hair off her cheek, letting my fingers linger against her skin. Soft. Warm. Home.
Her eyes caught mine, hazy with sleep. “You’re still here.”
“Yeah,” I murmured. “For a little while longer.”
“Shouldn’t you—” She yawned, voice rough with sleep. “Shouldn’t you go before my mom gets home?”
“Soon.” My thumb traced her cheek, down the curve of her neck. “Just not yet.”
We stayed like that, looking at each other, the silence heavy but not uncomfortable.
“Last night,” she whispered finally. “It meant something.”
My throat tightened. “It did.”
“I’m still… rebuilding,” she murmured, fingers worrying the edge of the blanket. Her eyes dipped then lifted to mine. “But I trust you more now than I did before.”
“Trust takes time,” I said. “We both know that. But I’m here. All in. Even if no one else sees it.”
“I get it.” Her lips parted. “We can’t be open. Not at school. Not with… everything.”
“Yeah, for now.” I hated it. I wanted to claim her, keep every asshole at bay. But Elise watched for cracks, and Logan lived to exploit them. Enemies were already circling. “Doesn’t matter. What we are—it’s ours. That’s real. The rest of the world doesn’t need to know yet.”
She leaned into my chest again, her hand spreading flat over my ribs, as if she was grounding herself. “I like it when you say ‘we.’”
I kissed her forehead. “Get used to it.”
Her laugh was a soft breath against my skin, and for a second, the world outside didn’t exist. But the sky was lightening, and I couldn’t ignore it. I needed to leave before her mom walked in and found me in her daughter’s bed.
I held her a little tighter anyway, stealing one more moment.
The house could fall apart around us, and I still wouldn’t want to leave.
But sooner or later I had to—before her mom walked in, someone noticed, or our secret split wide open where enemies could see.
The weight of leaving was more than just her door closing behind me.