Chapter 9 #2
Pure catnip.
‘You’re new,’ he drawls out.
‘Well spotted.’ She flips her hair off one shoulder, scarlet-red lips lifting into a sultry smile. ‘Name’s Abi, and you are?’
‘You can call me anything you like…’
She smirks. ‘Careful, or I’ll start calling you Trouble .’
‘Only if you say it like a compliment.’
‘Jesus, Axel,’ I mutter. ‘Taylor will have your balls.’
Abi’s brows lift, amused eyes flicking between us. ‘Taylor?’
‘She owns the place,’ I say.
‘Oh!’
‘Yeah.’ And if she actually knew Taylor, she’d cool the come-to-bed vibe. Even when she ran the escort agency, sex with clients was never on the menu. ‘We’ll take the same again, thanks.’
Her gaze lingers a moment longer, then she bends to collect my empty glass. The figure-hugging, black dress – scoop neck, gold-stitched Q over one breast – doesn’t leave much to the imagination. Gravity’s having its way, and she’s not exactly fighting it.
Which tells me she doesn’t know Taylor. Or if she does, she doesn’t care. Either way, she’s offering exactly what Axel’s after.
Me? I’ve only got one woman on my mind. And she’s back in my penthouse, all soft-pink pyjamas and sweet smiles, wrecking me without even trying.
The waitress sashays off and I boot Axel under the table.
‘And you wonder why Taylor asked me to look after Sadie instead of you,’ I mutter.
‘I don’t wonder at all. I know what I am. You’re the one who questioned it. And that says more about your conscience than mine.’
And he’s not wrong.
But hearing him say it, with that all-knowing glint in his eye, lands hard.
Because he does know – the whole sordid detail.
He caught me that night, downing whisky like it could wipe her lips off mine, burn her out of my gut – much like tonight – and I cracked.
Spilled everything. Desperate to purge it.
Didn’t work then. Sure as hell isn’t working now.
‘So,’ he says, dragging the word out like it tastes good. ‘How’s it going?’
‘How’s what going?’
He chuckles – low, slow, smug . ‘Fuck. You really do have it bad.’
‘You’ve no idea what you’re talking about.’
But he does. Of course he does.
‘It’s not funny,’ I grind out. ‘My entire home’s a boobytrap of plastic toys, sticky landmines and soaring toddler missiles.’
‘And yet when you talk about it, your eyes light up like it’s Christmas.’
I huff, shifting in my seat. ‘You try it for five minutes and tell me it’s not chaos.’
‘I think you’re protesting too much.’ His smile fades, his tone dipping with it. ‘Does she know about Katie?’
I stiffen. ‘No. Why would I tell her about Katie?’
Axel gives a low whistle. ‘You really don’t see it, do you?’
‘See what?’
‘That maybe the reason you haven’t mentioned Katie is because she’s the only one who ever came close to mattering. But even Katie didn’t come close enough to her.’
I laugh, but it’s hollow. Forced. ‘Are you really giving me insight into my love life? The guy who thinks commitment is a four-letter word.’
He doesn’t even baulk. ‘You were the same once. Katie was different. You kept her around longer than most. But you still didn’t let her in. Why?’
I don’t answer. Because honestly, I don’t have one.
He leans in, brows tight, eyes burning with raw sincerity. Axel, of all people, talking feelings ?
I blink. And just like that, my life hits a whole new level of surreal.
‘It’s because you’ve never been able to picture anyone in your life long-term… except her. Even back then. Even when you knew you couldn’t have her.’
‘You’re reading too much into it,’ I lie. ‘Katie was nice, but it was never going to work. She didn’t get it. She didn’t get me . She never understood the meaning of space. And work – work always came first. It still does.’
‘Maybe. Or maybe it’s just easier to hide behind work than admit you’ve been stuck on the same girl for almost ten years.’
My gut rolls. Because no matter how ‘okay’ Axel makes it sound, it’s not. She was eighteen to my thirty.
She’s twenty-five now, though, the devil in me says.
And more vulnerable than ever , I push back.
I owe her stability and security. The kind of warmth and support she once gave me when I needed it most. When everything else went to shit, I let her see me at my worst – not Axel, not Taylor, not Mum. Just Sadie. And somehow, she managed to bring back the best.
Until that kiss.
There’s nothing good about the man I was then.
Or now. Wanting what I shouldn’t.
But what can I say to Axel that doesn’t sound like bullshit? He knows it. I know it. So I sit in the silence until he shrugs, his voice casual again.
‘Though what do I know?’ He slaps his finished pint down on the table. ‘Maybe you’re right. Maybe you’re just like me: not built for forever. Life’s easier when you only have yourself to think about…’
‘Yeah.’ I stare at his empty glass, feeling every bit as hollow. ‘Yeah, it is.’
Easier, sure.
But happier?
I thought I’d be happy when I made my first million. I was. For about five minutes. Then I wanted ten. Then a hundred. Then a billion.
I thought I was happy when I bought my first Lamborghini, my helicopter too.
I thought I was happy when I bought the penthouse in my building. The most exclusive, the most desired.
I thought I was happy when I bought my parents the holiday home we used to rent in Pembrokeshire every summer as a kid. When I paid off the mortgage on their chippy so they could run it the hours they wanted, rather than all the hours.
Every win, every milestone… all it ever did was make me look to the next thing.
But Sadie?
What could I ever want after her?
* * *
Sadie
I hear the soft ding of the private elevator arrive and snap my laptop shut. Don’t ask me why I chose to work in the open-plan living space instead of the bedroom tonight. Maybe after our day out, I just feel like I can. Like he’s truly okay with us being here. Like we’re welcome even.
And it’s… it’s nice .
Being in his space. Reassuring, despite the cool, masculine tones and neat-freak vibe. I like his scent. I like his presence. I like him .
And I’ve decided that’s no bad thing. So long as I keep it contained this time. No getting carried away. The fact of the matter is, I used to enjoy his company. He was as good a friend to me as he was to Taylor, before kiss-gate. Getting even a fraction of that friendship back…
Well, that’d be a win on this otherwise shitty path my life’s taken.
I tune into the rustle of him shrugging off his coat, the soft thud of shoes hitting the floor, then the quiet pad of footsteps coming down the hall. My pulse quickens and I pull my plait over one shoulder, smooth down my baby-pink PJs and?—
‘ Sadie …?’
He freezes on the threshold, one hand braced against the wall like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. I’d say it’s just surprise at finding me here, but his voice sounds off. Too thick. Too gruff. Too… drunk?
‘Hey,’ I say, easing my feet out from under me. ‘Good night?’
The only light in the room comes from a single lamp I’ve left glowing in the corner. It messes with his green eyes, turning them near-black and glittering like glass. It sharpens his cheekbones, the stubble roughening his jaw, the crease between his brows… He looks tortured, broken.
‘ Theo ?’
His Adam’s apple bobs as he gives a stiff nod. Then he makes a sound, more grunt than word, and forks a hand through his hair. The dark-blond strands are already sticking up, like he’s been tugging at them for hours. Or someone else has.
A pinch, sudden and traitorous, snags beneath my ribs.
He was with Axel , I remind myself.
Though that doesn’t mean there weren’t women, too.
‘Is everything… okay?’
He pushes off the wall but doesn’t come any closer. ‘I wasn’t expecting you to still be up.’
‘Yeah…’
Neither was I. It’s well past midnight, but my recent blog posts have triggered a wave of new followers – people reaching out for advice, support, or just someone to hear them. And I want them to feel seen, even if it means sacrificing sleep.
‘…just catching up on some work.’
I slide my laptop onto the coffee table and his eyes narrow on it.
‘What kind of work?’
He’s never asked before. And something about the way he does now feels off. Like he’s suspicious.
Or maybe I’m just projecting. A combination of guilt and Danny making everything feel pointed. But the blog is my secret. I’m not ready for anyone to know about it. Not even Taylor or Theo. Not while Danny’s still out there.
‘Oh, you know… admin. The odd survey.’
He nods, but his eyes stay fixed on the device like it might self-destruct at any moment. ‘You’re not online, are you?’
I give a small, bemused smile. ‘Well, yeah, this is the twenty-first century.’
‘I mean, your accounts, social media…?’
‘Of course not.’
I’d have to be insane to risk that. Not after everything Taylor went through to build us a fresh start – new devices, new accounts, new everything.
A digital reset I intend to reimburse her for just as soon as I’m back on my feet.
‘Good.’
I stand, and his eyes shift, catching on my bare legs with pained intent. And I swear I hear him groan. I tell myself I’m imagining it. That it’s just a trick of the light, a weird burr in the music playing quietly in the background.
But as his gaze travels up my body, there’s nothing imagined about the way I react – every inch of skin tingling, breath catching.
Then his eyes land on my mouth and?—
Fuck.
That look. Dark. Raw. Possessive. Like he wants to taste me. Like he’s imagining it now… remembering, even.
And it’s not the burn of shame, I feel. Anything but.
‘Theo?’
His head rocks back, eyes flaring like he’s been caught… which he has. But bloody hell, I was right there with him. Against all better judgement, I was there.
He suddenly comes alive, striding for the bar in the corner of the room. ‘Have you spoken to Taylor?’
The black marble bar top gleams under the accent lights that flick on as he grabs a whisky bottle off the shelf, a tumbler too – his movements stiff, urgent.
‘I messaged her…’ I come up behind him, cautious, but too curious to stay away. ‘She’s in Paris. She offered to fly back tomorrow.’
‘I can do tomorrow.’
‘I told her there’s no rush.’
He lances me with a look. ‘You need to sort this out, Sadie.’
‘I know. But she’s about to launch a new club out there, and you know what she’s like – into every detail. I don’t want to mess with her life any more than I already have.’
He sets the glass down, facing me fully, eyes blazing.
‘ You’re more important than her work. No matter what happened between you two, you will always come first. You got it?’
I nod, throat dry. ‘I do. But she’s done so much for me already… You both have.’
A war rages in his eyes – hot, desperate… hungry. It slams into my chest, then dives lower, heat twisting through my belly. My skin prickles. My nipples tighten. A slow, traitorous throb pulses between my thighs. If he touched me now, I’d melt. If he kissed me, I’d beg.
So much for keeping it contained.
I try to take a steadying breath, but it’s all him… his scent, his expensive cologne, the faint hit of whisky?—
My spine stiffens, my nerves reacting to the alcohol. It’s instinctual – some buried warning system. But he isn’t Danny. And this isn’t fear taking over.
I lick my lips and his eyes trace my tongue.
Pop .
The bottle cork jerks free in his clenched grip.
‘Nightcap?’ he blurts, voice tight.
‘No.’ I cover his glass, fingers brushing boldly against his as I step closer. ‘Are you sure you need it?’
He looks me over, every line in his face pulled taut, pupils blown wide.
‘More than you can know,’ he rasps. ‘Now, if you don’t mind.’
He turns away, sliding the glass from under my hand, and pours – an unsteady slosh that nearly overflows.
‘Go to bed, Sadie.’
My mouth quirks. ‘I’m not a child. You don’t get to tell me what to do.’
His eyes flutter closed as he takes a breath through his nose.
‘You’re right,’ he grinds out. ‘I’ll go.’
Then he leaves – long, fast strides, whisky in hand.
‘Theo?’ I call out softly.
He stops cold. Shoulders squared. Back still to me.
‘I told Taylor I’d see her a week on Friday. Can you have Lottie then?’
A pause. Heavy. Strained.
Then he nods. ‘Of course.’
‘Thanks… Sweet dreams.’
He half-laughs, half-chokes. ‘Don’t tempt me.’
And then he’s gone. But the heat of him stays – his body, his stare, his want seared into my skin. My pulse drums hard, thighs pressed tight, breath shallow as the silence thickens.
He’s not supposed to look at me like that.
And I’m not supposed to want it. Not any more.
But he did.
And I do.
God , I do.
One more second… and I’d have dragged him back just to let him burn me again.
When the hell will I learn?