10. Ariana
10
ARIANA
S hoot. I should have put on my sweater before coming out of my room. The guest room, I mean. It’s only mine for the night. Tomorrow I’m going to figure out how to get to my car and get it running, and then skip out of this town.
“I fell,” I say quickly, too quickly.
“Where did you fall? Did you trip?” he presses.
I divert my attention to his neck vein, which seems to be pulsing really quickly. “Outside.”
His jaw tics. “Outside, where?”
Why does he care? What does it matter?
My mouth opens, then closes. I hate lying, but I also really hate how he’s looking at me. Like he’s seconds away from losing his shit.
“I don’t know, just outside.”
He glares and leans closer, so his face is only inches from mine.
Boy, if looks could kill, I’d be a goner. Instead, a shiver runs through me.
“ Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not?—”
He cuts me off, stepping even closer. We’re practically nose to nose and my bottom tingles for some reason. “Yes, you are. You don’t just fall and end up with scratches like that. Tell me the truth.”
He’s not going to let it go. Of course he isn’t. The man is a wall of intensity and control and bossiness. He’s definitely a murderer.
“I was leaving the bar. I went to get some hot water,” I admit quietly. “In the parking lot, I saw a guy hurting a woman.”
Jasper doesn’t say a word, but I feel his energy shift. Darken.
“I yelled at him to back off, but he didn’t. So I shoved him off her. He lost his balance, and I did too. I fell onto the gravel.”
Silence stretches between us. Danger signs flash in my mind telling me to stop while I’m ahead.
“You tried to take on a man?” he growls.
I look up. “He was hurting her. What was I supposed to do—walk away?”
He steps forward, his fists clenched at his sides. “Who was he?”
“I don’t know.”
“What did he look like? What was he driving?”
“I don’t know, Jasper. It was dark, and I was trying to get away from him, but he started chasing me.”
He lets out a long exhale, hands bracing on his hips as he turns, muttering curses under his breath. The kind that makes my stomach twist and my core tighten at the same time.
“It’s not a big deal,” I add.
He spins back toward me, eyes burning. “Not a big deal? You could’ve been seriously hurt—or worse. Do you have any idea what could’ve happened? You’re tiny, Ariana. Going up against a man isn’t safe. You go and find a man who can help.”
I flinch. Not because I’m afraid of him. But because of how angry he is. Not at me, I realize. For me. He’s… worried.
“I’m fine,” I whisper.
He shakes his head. “You won’t be if you keep putting yourself in situations like that.”
I lift my chin. “She needed help. And I’m scrappy. Like a badger.”
His gaze narrows and he cocks his head, a sure sign that I’ve caught him off guard. Which was my whole intent.
“Like a badger, rainbow? Do you know a lot about badgers?”
Shrugging, I smile innocently. “Only that they’re scrappy as fuck.”
Jasper makes a noise in the back of his throat, then lets out an exasperated breath before running his fingers through his hair. “No more getting into fucking scraps with men. Or anyone, for that matter. Or going to bars by yourself. Or… or living in the fucking woods with the goddamn bears. And no cursing.”
Before I can stop myself, I burst into giggles and shake my head. “You just said like five curse words in one sentence. I don’t think you’re exactly the person to tell someone me not to say bad words.”
Jasper stares at me for a long moment, and then his eyes fall to my arm again, his brow furrowing like he’s memorizing every scratch and scab.
“Go crawl into bed,” he says roughly. “I’ll bring you some ointment for that.”
“I need to grab something from my camper first,” I murmur, already trying to sidestep him to head to the door. “I’ll be right back?—”
He moves in front of me, his hand gently pressing against my shoulder to stop me. “You’re not going out there barefoot.”
“I’ll only be a second,” I argue, voice a little too high, a little too desperate.
“It’s freezing outside, Ariana. You don’t even have shoes on. Whatever you need, we can get it in the morning.”
“No,” I blurt, panic prickling beneath my skin. “I need it tonight.”
His gaze narrows slightly as he scans my face like he’s trying to figure me out. “What is it? Tell me what you need.”
I hesitate. My fingers twist in the hem of my tank top. “It’s… I just need it, okay?”
His expression softens, and he softens his voice. “Do you need your little blankie, Little one?”
My breath catches in my throat. My cheeks flush. Crap. Of course he saw it. There’s only so much to look at in that camper, and my blankie is pretty much the focal point of the entire thing since my bed takes up most of the space. Does he think it’s weird that I’m a grown woman with a small ratty blanket? That I can’t sleep without it?
I nod, barely.
The corner of his mouth lifts—not a smirk, not a tease. Just something gentle. Like understanding.
“All right,” he says, already moving toward the door. “I’ll go get it. Is there anything else you need to help you sleep? A stuffed toy?”
My heart flutters, and I bite my bottom lip. His question is genuine and curious without any mockery in his tone. Does he know I’m Little? How would he know? Unless… unless he knows what age play is, too. Unless he is familiar with the lifestyle. Does that mean…?
I shake my head. “No. I’m good.”
He nods once, slow and firm. “Good. Go on then. Get in bed. I’ll be up in a minute.”
I hesitate just long enough to see him pull a hoodie over his head and shove his feet into boots before he steps out the door.
The second it closes behind him, I hurry upstairs, my feet barely making a sound against the wood.
The bed is massive. Plush. Safe. And best of all, warm . I climb into it and pull the blankets up to my chin, fingers fidgeting with the edge of the sheet while my pulse races in my ears.
I don’t know what’s more terrifying—how vulnerable I feel right now. Or how the thought of Jasper possibly being a Daddy makes my core clench with need.
Before I can focus on either of those feelings and start to overthink more than I already am, Jasper taps on the door and pushes it open, appearing in the threshold like some sort of superhero.
Tonight is the first time I’ve seen him without some sort of long sleeve on, instead he’s in a black cotton T-shirt that molds to his shoulders and chest perfectly. I could tell he was built even when he was wearing a jacket, but I had no idea he would be quite this chiseled. What kind of workouts does he do? With muscles like those, I bet he’s in the gym twenty hours a day. And his tattoos only add to that. His arms and hands are covered completely, all the way down to his fingertips. Crosses and intricate lines cover his skin, some of the designs looking more ominous than others. It almost feels like I’m seeing Jasper’s story of his life on his skin, but only he knows the words to it.
He doesn’t say anything. Just crosses the room with those long, steady strides and places my tiny scrap of a blanket gently on the bed beside me.
My fingers immediately close around the worn fabric. The familiar weight and texture calm something deep in my chest, like it does every single night when I go to sleep.
I look up, trying to express my gratitude with my eyes, and as if he understands, he nods. Then, instead of leaving, he grabs the armchair from the corner of the room and drags it closer to the bed. He sinks into it, elbows on his knees, fingers laced tightly together. And then… he just stares.
That intense, unreadable Jasper stare that I saw the very first day we met. It’s intimidating. Like he’s seeing right through me. I’m not sure I like it.
I squirm under the covers, clutching my blanket tighter. My gaze flicks to the twinkle lights on the far wall, then to the comforter, then back to him. He doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink. Doesn’t speak.
I bite my lip, my nerves fraying at the edges.
Finally, he breaks the silence. “Why are you living in a camper by yourself?”
I freeze.
Of course. I should have known that question would come.
I want to look away, maybe hide under the covers like a child, but that doesn’t feel safe either. Not with him watching me.
And after the scene we had on the stairs, I know better than to lie to him again. He won’t yell. He won’t scream. But he’ll say something that makes my bottom tingle and my core ache, and that might be even worse.
I swallow hard and force the words out. “I’ve been living in my camper since my eighteenth birthday.”
His expression doesn’t change, but something behind his eyes shifts—tightens.
“I had to leave my foster home once I turned eighteen,” I add quietly, voice barely above a whisper. “I was just going to buy my car, but the guy offered me the camper to go with it, and it was like a miracle because I was planning to just live in the car.”
He doesn’t speak. Just watches.
I don’t offer him any more details. I’ve already said too much. At least it was the truth. I don’t know why I’m so worried about disappointing him. He’s still basically a stranger. Yet here I am, answering his questions, doing what he says, and why? I should be running for my freaking life.
Maybe it’s the way he said good girl earlier. The low rumble in his voice. The way it made my stomach flip and curl my toes.
Jasper suddenly stands, his dark eyes narrowing. “You’re never sleeping in that camper again.”
I blink. “Wait—what?”
“You’ll stay here. With me. With my family. Until we figure something else out.”
“But—”
“No.” His voice is final. Unshakable. “You’re not arguing about this.”
Before I think better of it, I cross my arms over my chest and glare at him. “I’m really starting to think you have some major control issues.”
Jasper smirks. “Just starting to figure that out, huh, rainbow?”
Then he walks over to the wall and flicks off the overhead light, replacing it with the soft glow of twinkle lights. The tiny bulbs are like sleepy stars, casting a cozy glow over the room.
He turns back toward me, gaze sweeping over the bed one last time. “Sweet dreams, Little thief. I’ll be one door down if you need anything. Otherwise, I’ll see you in the morning.”
Then he strides out, leaving the door cracked behind him.
And I’m left clutching my blanket, staring at the doorway, wondering what just happened… and why I feel hopeful for the first time in a long time.