24. Phantom Reminders
Phantom Reminders
Ari
I wake the next morning with my skin burning. Everything feels used and bruised, but in the best way. When I think back to what Maddox and I did, my whole body thrums with the remnants of last night. The memory of his hands, his mouth, his claim , lingers in my bones.
I shift under the covers and feel it. The tenderness between my thighs. The soreness he left behind like a brand. I squeeze my legs together and my breath catches at the sensitivity, at the undeniable reminder of what we did. How is it that I’m already ready for more?
I should feel guilty, but I don’t.
I stretch lazily, exhaling slowly, my body still tingling from the aftershocks of him. When I’m done, I slowly get out of bed.
It feels like I’ve run a marathon, which is funny because I determined a couple of years ago that I don’t have the endurance to be a runner.
As I check myself over in the bathroom mirror, my hand moves absently over my stomach, trailing up to my neck?—
And then I freeze.
A faint bruise. His bruise.
I suck in a sharp breath, my fingers tracing the mark as heat curls low in my stomach. A brand, a silent reminder of how he touched me, how he whispered my name like it was the only thing he believed in. I should feel ashamed. I should be panicking. Instead, I feel owned.
And I don’t hate it.
A knock at my door startles me. I yank my sleep shirt higher to cover the bruise, pulse skittering as I clear my throat and walk out of the bathroom.
“Yeah?”
The door creaks open just enough for Asher to step inside, a coffee mug in his hand.
“Morning,” he says softly, offering a small smile as he crosses the room. “I figured you could use this.”
Guilt slams into me so fast I nearly choke on it. Not because I regret Maddox. But because I don’t. Asher made me coffee, and I’ve been standing here admiring the bruises his brother left on my skin.
“Thanks,” I murmur, taking the cup from his outstretched hands. My fingers brush against his briefly. And I think back to when we first started dating—if I ever felt a spark between us. But… no. I didn’t. And now? There’s no warmth. Just a hollow emptiness that I can’t ignore.
He sits on the edge of the bed, looking tired. Looking like he’s forcing himself to be present. “You disappeared early last night.” His voice is careful, and the tone is definitely more observant than affectionate. “Everything okay?”
I force a small smile, bringing the coffee to my lips to stall for time. “Yeah, I was just tired.”
He nods, but there’s something defeated in the way he looks away. It’s like he knows. Knows that no matter how many cups of coffee or late apologies he offers, I’ve already left him—we just haven’t said it aloud yet.
There’s a beat of silence as his blue eyes scan my face, and my heart throbs when his eyes rove down to my neck.
“I haven’t told my parents about us.” His gaze flickers over me, searching, but luckily for me, he doesn’t notice the small bruise. “But I want you to know that I hope we can be friends. You still mean a lot to me, Ari.”
I swallow, gripping the coffee mug a little tighter. Perhaps something in him senses the shift, the fracture spreading between us.
“Sure,” I lie. “But we should tell them soon.”
He nods. “Okay. I’ll tell them once everyone’s home. I don’t necessarily want any drama on our last day, you know?”
I smile. “Sure.”
He rubs the back of his neck. “Well, my dad made breakfast, if you want to come down. It’s nearly eleven,” he adds, giving me a wry smile.
My eyes bug out. “Shit, I didn’t realize how late I slept.”
He stands up. “You must’ve needed it.”
You could say that again.
With another soft smile, he leaves me alone to change into yet another outfit that Maddox picked out for me. Today, it’s a dark green, silk romper that ties at the waist with flowy shorts, a sweetheart neckline, and flutter sleeves. It makes me feel very feminine, and despite changing my underwear, I haven’t showered—so the evidence of Maddox is still very much there. I smell like him, and the worst part is, I don’t want to wash it off.
I rub some perfume on my neck and walk out of my room.
When I get downstairs, the kitchen is humming with quiet conversation. The scent of coffee and freshly baked croissants lingers in the air, but I don’t have an inkling of an appetite.
Hannah smiles when she sees me. “Morning, sweetheart. Did you sleep okay?”
Before I can answer, Maddox speaks. “She seemed content after dinner,” he muses, swirling his coffee lazily, his gaze never leaving mine. Something akin to pride flashes across his face. “Must’ve been a satisfying meal if she slept for fourteen hours,” he drawls, his blue eyes locked on to mine, knowing.
I choke on my sip of coffee.
Asher scrunches his brow, glancing between us. “I’m sure Ari doesn’t need you to notice every single thing about her.”
If only Asher knew…
Maddox smiles, pulling his lower lip between his teeth as he leans forward. “I’d have to be dead not to notice her, Asher,” he murmurs.
I hate him.
And I hate how my stomach flutters at his words anyway.
I force myself to sit down, ignoring the way Maddox’s knee brushes against mine under the table, the heat of his body seeping into my skin.
I’m halfway through forcing down a piece of toast when Maddox gets up. He walks over to the counter and grabs something I can’t identify, something green and blue and small. Setting it down next to my plate, I freeze, my stomach twisting as I glance down?—
A flower.
A forget-me-not.
I don’t touch it, don’t react, but my pulse pounds in my ears.
My phone vibrates against the table, and I nearly jump. I tear my gaze away from the flower, casting a quick glance around. Asher is focused on his parents, nodding along as Hannah discusses the day’s plans. No one is paying attention to me. No one sees the war raging beneath my skin.
I lower my gaze to the screen.
(858) 667-9960
I don’t need to remind you, do I?
A slow, involuntary shiver unfurls inside me. My pulse stumbles. I glance up, and Maddox is already looking at me, his expression unreadable, his fingers curled around his phone like he has all the time in the world.
Heat prickles at the back of my neck.
I force myself to take a sip of coffee, my fingers squeezing around the ceramic.
My phone vibrates again.
(858) 667-9960
You’re thinking about last night. Right now. Even with him sitting right next to you.
A sharp inhale lodges in my throat. My entire body tenses. I flick my eyes up again, but Maddox is already looking away now, his expression smooth, his posture casual. Like he didn’t just reach into my mind and pick apart my thoughts with surgical precision.
Asher leans over slightly, oblivious to the tension that has me locked in place.
“You good?”
I swallow thickly, forcing a nod. “Yeah. I should go shower.”
Hannah smiles kindly. “Well, today should be nice and relaxing. A perfect beach day. And tonight, we’re doing a bonfire. I can’t believe it’s the last night,” she adds, smiling at all of us warmly.
“That sounds perfect,” I reply, pushing my plate away as I stand.
My phone buzzes again.
(858) 667-9960
You should really get some more rest, angel. You’re going to need it.
I feel Maddox’s gaze follow me as I leave the kitchen, arousal licking at the base of my spine.
The forget-me-not stays on the table.