Chapter Thirteen
Clove
Sunlight woke me.
Not the harsh kind that jolted you out of sleep, but the warm, lazy kind that spilled through the window and painted soft lines across the room. For a moment, I didn’t move. I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, letting the light remind my body that it was morning.
That I was alive.
I was still wearing the clothes Alice had given me, but a blanket was also draped over me. I hadn’t done that. I knew I hadn’t.
The realization didn’t scare me.
It made my chest loosen.
I shifted slightly and listened.
Water was running in the shower.
The bathroom door was open, and my heart kicked once, then settled. Ender. Of course it was Ender. He’d stayed. I remembered him on the couch, the low murmur of his breathing, and the way the room had felt safe just because he was there.
I stretched carefully, testing my body. Sore. Stiff. Bruised but okay.
Then my bladder made itself known.
Urgently. “Oh crap,” I whispered.
I sat up slowly, blinking as the room came into sharper focus. I had two options.
One: go out into the clubhouse hallway, past people, cameras, and the general chaos of morning.
Two: use the bathroom currently occupied by a naked Ender.
I swallowed hard.
For years, literal years, I’d had a crush on Ender. A quiet one. A careful one. The kind you tucked away and pretended didn’t exist because it made things complicated.
He was handsome. Always had been. Strong, calm, steady. Always nice to me. Never teasing in the way the others were. Never dismissive.
And always… off-limits.
“Ender?” I called softly.
“You okay?” he called back immediately, his voice clear even over the sound of the water.
That alone did something stupid to my chest.
I slid off the bed and padded toward the bathroom. I stopped at the open doorway, and my heart did that annoying fluttery thing it had no business doing right now. “Um,” I said. “I have to go to the bathroom.”
There was a pause, then Ender leaned slightly out from behind the shower curtain, water dripping down his face.
Lord have mercy.
Strong jaw. A couple days’ worth of stubble darkening his cheeks. Wet hair plastered back from his forehead.
“Clove,” he said, brows pulling together just a little. “Are you okay?”
I nodded quickly. “Yeah. I just have to go to the bathroom and… I don’t really want to go out there.”
Understanding flickered across his face. He chuckled softly and ducked back into the shower. “You’re free to go here, baby. I just got in. I’ll be a little bit.”
Oh.
Well.
“But you’re going to hear,” I blurted.
He laughed again, lower this time. “I’ve got the water running. You want me to sing or something?”
I froze. That… might actually help. “Yes?”
He leaned out again, water trailing down his chest before disappearing behind the curtain. “Any requests?”
“I’m good with anything that drowns it out,” I said quickly.
He grinned and leaned back into the shower.
And then he started singing.
Loudly.
Horribly.
“Happy birthday to youuu—”
I slapped a hand over my mouth to keep from laughing as I rushed to the toilet, my face burning. He was off-key, enthusiastic, and absolutely committed to the performance.
I did my business as fast as possible while he belted out the song for a second time, somehow getting worse with each line.
“I’m done!” I called over his singing as I flushed.
The singing stopped abruptly.
I was laughing as I washed my hands, my shoulders shaking, the sound bubbling out of me before I could stop it.
“Are you laughing at my singing?” he asked from behind the curtain.
“No,” I said, grinning at my reflection. “But I don’t think you should quit your day job.”
“Noted,” he said, clearly amused.
I leaned closer to the mirror, really looking at myself for the first time since everything had happened. The bruise on my cheek was yellowing at the edges now. The cut above my eyebrow had been cleaned and had a Band-Aid over it. My eyes looked tired but clear.
I looked… better than I felt.
Better than I thought I would.
“I don’t even have a toothbrush,” I muttered.
“We can run by your house today and get your stuff,” Ender said easily.
“Why do I need to get my stuff?” I asked, frowning.
He stuck his head out of the curtain again, soap sliding down his temple. “Clove. You’ve been with the club since birth. You really need me to answer that?”
I rolled my eyes. “Because it’s safer for me to be here.”
“Good girl,” he said, then ducked back into the shower.
The words sent a shiver straight down my spine.
I braced myself on the sink and took a slow breath.
Ender was off-limits. Ender had always been off-limits. Part of the club. Practically family. Cousin-adjacent, even if I’d never once felt cousin feelings toward him.
And it wasn’t like he’d ever shown interest in me.
I told myself that for the millionth time.
“Think I can wear my cowprint shorts on the back of your bike?” I joked weakly.
He laughed. “You could, but Eden brought you some clothes this morning. They’re on the couch.”
“Sweet Eden,” I said fondly. “She’s always been my favorite.”
I stepped back into the bedroom and grabbed the jean shorts and black Stevie Nicks shirt Eden had left. I really needed clean underwear. I was currently going commando. Not that anyone could tell, though, but I knew.
I changed quickly, buttoning up the shorts just as Ender stepped out of the bathroom.
Shirtless with a towel around his neck, water still clinging to his skin. Muscles defined and familiar in a way that made my stomach flip. Broad shoulders. Strong arms. Tattoos tracing stories I’d never asked about.
The kind of man who looked like he could handle anything the world threw at him.
My mouth went dry.
He stopped and looked at me. “You okay?”
I nodded too fast.
He glanced down at his chest, then back up at me. “Like what you see?”
Like? I loved it.
“Oh, um,” I scrambled. “I was just thinking about… breakfast. I’m starving.”
He smirked, finished drying his hair, and tossed the towel back into the bathroom. He pulled a shirt on, grabbed his cut from the door handle, and shrugged it into place.
I turned away to put on my Converse with my cheeks burning.
Ender sat on the edge of the bed and pulled on his socks and boots.
Watching a man get dressed was intimate in a way I hadn’t expected. It was strange. He was covering himself up, not revealing anything, but it made me feel closer to him than being half-naked ever could.
He stood and moved to the door, holding it open for me.
He didn’t touch me as I passed.
But I felt him there. Solid. Close.
We stepped into the hallway together.
And for the first time since I’d been taken, I let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, the worst part was behind me.