3. Kate #2
The heat inside Pier 19 was suffocating, but it wasn’t just the packed dance floor. It was them.
Krystal was draped across Michael like she owned him. One perfectly manicured hand on his chest, the other wrapped around his neck as she laughed at something he said—or maybe didn’t say. He didn’t look like he was laughing. He didn’t look happy. But he wasn’t pushing her away either.
That was enough to unravel me.
I turned my back to them, grabbed my drink, downed what was left, and murmured something to the girls about needing air.
I pushed through the crowd, weaving between tourists and townies, the rhythm of the music pulsing through my chest. But all I could feel was panic building, my throat tightening, like I might cry or scream or do something equally humiliating if I didn’t get out fast.
Outside, the ocean breeze slapped me back into myself. I exhaled hard, leaning into the railing of the patio. The night was cool, crisp, laced with brine and sea smoke. I stared out at the marina, where the soft sway of docked yachts made everything seem calm. Ordered. Peaceful.
Too bad I was none of those things.
God, what is wrong with me? I wasn’t this girl. The one who runs from her feelings. The one who breaks her own heart on purpose. But seeing Krystal on him—like she belonged there—was a gut punch I couldn’t shake.
I closed my eyes. One inhale. One exhale.
"Kate."
His voice—deep, low, and unmistakably Michael—broke the silence like a gunshot. I didn’t even need to turn to know it was him. My whole body knew.
I turned slowly, careful not to let all my messy emotion spill out at once. "Hello, Michael."
He looked like sin in a tailored suit. Shadowed jaw, eyes sharp, lips parted like he was about to say something—anything—but didn’t.
I stepped back, tried to calm the riot inside me. "Don’t."
"Don’t what?"
"Don’t look at me like that. Like I’m a problem you want to solve."
He stepped closer, crowding my space. "You are a problem. One I haven’t stopped thinking about."
I laughed, bitter and soft. "Funny. I was thinking the same about you."
He didn’t smile. His jaw ticked. "Where the hell did you go, Kate? You ghosted the town like I did something to you. Are you that terrified of good sex?”
“I’m not all that convinced it’d be so good.” I deadpanned. While in my head calculating how many steps it’d take to swan dive over the pier into the water if it came to it.”
His nostrils flared. “I’m not even sure chasing you would be worth it. You’re probably one of those woman who expect me to do all the work.”
My brow raised at that. “Good. We can agree then to ignore each other. Forget a stupid drunk kiss ever happened on a night fireworks happen.”
I swear I saw hurt flash in his gaze, but a man like him couldn’t afford those kind of emotions, right?
We stood in silence, heat and hurt buzzing in the few inches between us. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to slap him. I wanted to disappear.
Instead, I whispered, "I left because I had to. Because if I stayed... I wouldn’t have survived someone like you."
He blinked, as if my words actually landed. “Because I run a casino?”
“Sure. Yep. That’s all you do.. right. That night… the gun—that’s not the kind of life I want.”
He stepped in, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off his chest. “You’re a walking contradiction. Smart, stunning, and you knew who I was before even stepping foot on my boat You undressed for me… went in the hot tub willingly. Don’t play cute, coy, and scared now.”
I bit the inside of my cheek, hard. Anything to keep from letting the truth out. "I kissed you that night because I wanted to. I left because I had to. And I’m here now because?—"
"You still want me."
I hated that he was right.
Then he touched my face. Just his palm against my cheek, and I melted. My knees went soft. My breath caught.
"Tell me to walk away, Kate, and I will. I’ll go back inside, take my girl, and pretend you don’t exist. But say nothing, and I swear, I’m going to kiss you like the world’s ending."
I didn’t say a word.
His mouth crashed into mine.
The kiss was brutal, messy, real. Nothing like the fantasy I’d replayed over and over for these past months.
This was all heat and desperation and years of longing poured into one reckless moment.
My arms wrapped around his neck. His hands were on my hips, pulling me in, pressing our bodies flush together.
"You bitch!"
Krystal.
I spun just in time to see her charging, eyes wild. She raised her hand to strike—and got yanked back by one of his men.
"Easy," Michael’s man said, pinning her back.
Michael didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink. “Handle her, Slade.”
He gives me a curt nod, gripping Krystal by the wrist as she thrashes in protest.
“Inside,” he orders, voice like steel.
“Just give us a minute, babe,” Michael says without taking his eyes off me. His tone is smooth, controlled—too controlled. Krystal glares at us both before being dragged through the door, her stilettos clicking like gunfire on the patio tile.
Silence.
I realize I’m shaking. My lips still tingling from the kiss I should never have started.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“I do,” he says simply.
I turn away, facing the water, trying to breathe. The sound of waves lapping against the dock is the only rhythm keeping me from completely unraveling.
“Where the hell did you go?” he asks behind me, his voice tight. “You just vanished. No word. Nothing.”
“You shouldn’t have bothered looking.” I swallow. “It doesn’t matter. I’m back now.”
“It matters to me, Kate.” His footsteps move closer until I can feel the heat of him behind me. “I need to know why.”
I close my eyes. The scent of his cologne—leather, salt, sin—wraps around me. “You wouldn’t understand,” I murmur. “And I couldn’t explain without destroying something.”
“Then destroy it,” he says, low. “Say the words and she’s gone. It’s been you since last summer. Always you.”
My breath catches. I should walk away, tell him this can’t happen. But his voice—his certainty—undoes me. I turn, and he’s right there, inches away, eyes burning like he can see every secret I’m trying to hide.
“Michael…” I whisper, but he’s already moving.
He takes my face in his hands and kisses me like he’s reclaiming oxygen after drowning. His mouth is hot, hungry, relentless. I melt against him, every nerve sparking alive. My hands find his chest, his jaw, the back of his neck. He groans—a sound that vibrates through me as much as around me.
“Stop fighting this,” he growls against my lips. His fingers trace my jaw, down my throat, stopping at the edge of my top. “You want this as bad as I do.”
He’s not wrong. God help me, he’s not wrong.
But reality crashes back fast—the cold night air, the hum of voices from inside, the fact that his girlfriend is twenty feet away.
I pull back, breath ragged. “We can’t,” I say. “Not like this. Not here.”
He drags a hand through his hair, frustration flashing across his face. “Why not, Kate? You think I don’t know what this is? You think I haven’t been losing my mind wanting you? Either leave again or let me have you. But if we’re both staying in this town, something’s going to give.”
“I know.” My voice breaks. “And it’ll be me.”
He stares at me, eyes dark, jaw working. Then he turns sharply, muttering a curse under his breath. “Fuck this.”
“Wait,” I blurt, stepping after him. I grab his arm. He stops, but doesn’t turn.
“Just one night,” I whisper. “That’s all. No promises. No lies. You let me go in the morning and we get this out of our systems and move on.”
He exhales, hard. For a heartbeat, I think he’ll refuse. Then he pivots, grabs me by the waist, and lifts me effortlessly—hauling me toward the waiting black SUV parked at the curb.
“Michael!” I gasp, half-protest, half-laugh, but he’s already opened the door.
His voice is low and rough, the sound of control slipping.
“Too late for one night, Kate. You should know by now—when I decide I want something, I don’t stop until I own it.”
The door shuts behind us. And in that second, I know the night—and everything after it—is going to change everything.