Chapter 12-Rico
I’m too amped up to be gentle, too wired with adrenaline after that bathroom scene, so I ducked into my home studio when she went to take her bath.
My fingers find the guitar strings, then the keys, chasing the melodies that have been clawing inside me since the second I saw her again.
Fuck.
It’s like I’ve come back to life.
For months, I’ve been a ghost—existing, performing, but not living. Not without her.
When I finally look up, hours have bled away. I didn’t mean for it to happen.
Panic punches me in the gut.
What if she left again?
What if I walked out here and found nothing but an empty bed and silence?
My heart is pounding as I stalk through the condo, quiet but desperate.
And then— I see her.
Curled on the right side of my bed, breathing softly, lost in sleep.
I can fucking breathe again.
Goddamn, she’s beautiful.
Her long dark hair spills across the pillow like a wave, glossy strands shining under the lamplight.
Her lashes fan over her cheeks, dark crescents against her skin, and her lips—plump, pink, parted just enough for each slow, even breath.
But it’s not just her face. It’s all of her.
The covers are kicked down low, leaving her curves on display like some fever dream meant to torture me.
My cock hardens instantly at the sight of her soft body stretched out in those tiny sleep shorts and the tank top riding up her belly.
The full swell of her breasts strains against the fabric, and fuck if I don’t want to bury my face there and never come up for air.
That ass— my favorite goddamn thing in the whole world —peeks out, round and perfect, taunting me.
I stand there watching her sleep, and every breath I take feels like a sin.
Three minutes. That’s all I last before I know exactly what I’m going to do.
No more distance.
No more pretending I can wait.
I’m going to show her everything. All of me. Even the ugly parts.
Because if she’s mine now— and she is —then she deserves the whole truth.
I head into the bathroom, showering quick, scrubbing away the tension of the day. My chest pounds with restless energy, my body is wound tight. By the time I towel off and pad back into the bedroom, I’m only in a pair of black boxer briefs, my skin still damp.
And when I slide into bed beside her, the world finally goes still.
Her warmth seeps into me instantly. I curl my bigger frame around her soft curves, fitting her against me like she was carved to belong there.
My arm slides around her waist, pulling her closer, and when she murmurs in her sleep, tucking herself back into me, something inside me cracks wide open.
This. This is home.
For the first time in months, I feel it.
My heart, my music, my soul.
All of it has been waiting for this one thing— Maya in my arms, in my bed, where she belongs.
And I swear to God, I’m never letting her go again.