Chapter 15 - Vince
Vince
My head was pounding, a dull ache behind my eyes, but that wasn’t the first thing I felt. Instead it was her heartbeat. Her fingers threaded in my hair like they’d been there all night.
My arm was around her waist. My leg hooked over hers. And my entire goddamn face was resting on her breast like I was some grateful stray she let curl up her.
The embarrassment hit next. Fuck. I remembered talking too much. Saying the kind of stuff you say when you think the person’s going to be gone by morning.
Except she wasn’t.
Then she stirred. Just a little. A lift of her chest that pushed up into my face and made me want to die right there. And then her fingers moved again, this time slipping to my neck. Stroking gently.
“You awake?” she whispered.
Fuck.
I nodded into her, then peeled myself off. I kept my eyes closed. Maybe if I didn’t look at her, I wouldn’t make it worse.
“You don’t remember anything, do you?”
“I remember enough to want to leave the country.” I muttered.
She laughed. “You were… talkative.”
“God.” I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes. “Did I cry?”
“Almost.”
“Fuck.”
She laughed again, too soft, too good natured for someone who probably witnessed a full breakdown. “You said I was too beautiful to be real. Multiple times.”
I groaned. “Please stop.”
“And that you missed my mouth, not even for kissing. And that I have the best sighs.”
“I hate myself.”
I looked over. She was curled up on her side, hair messy, wearing the same clothes from last night. She looked like something out of a dream. And I hated how much I wanted to believe she was still here because she wanted to be.
“You don’t have to be nice about it,” I muttered.
She propped herself up on her elbow. “I’m not being nice. You were sweet. Honest.”
“Drunk.” I rubbed my hand over my jaw. “Remind me to never let you stay in my bed again after I’ve had whiskey.”
She grinned. “You begged me to.”
“Did I?”
She nodded, smirking. “You told me I was real and that I wasn’t allowed to leave. That you were good at impossible things…except me.”
That sounded like me. Unfortunately.
“You don’t have to be nice about it,” I muttered.
She propped herself up on her elbow. “I’m not being nice. You were sweet. Honest.”
“Drunk.”
“That too.”
“Fuck me.” I dragged the pillow over my face. “Just end it. Smother me. Put me out of my misery.”
She laughed. Then gently pulled the pillow away from my face.
“It is.” I paused. “I wish you’d come on a night I wasn’t drinking like a maniac.”
“I know.” She sat up slowly. “We do need to talk.”
It felt like my actual heart actually stopped.
She watched me closely. “I came for a reason.”
Here it was.
The part where she let me down gently, she cared about me but couldn’t be part of this world. Told me what she saw on the screens confirmed what everyone always said about me.
“Was it to look me in the eye and end it?” I asked.
“No.”
I waited. Ready for her to rip my heart out. Didn’t even know I really could give it to someone before her.
“I didn’t want you to think I ghosted you. I just… got scared. I needed to understand why I wasn’t scared of you when the whole world was.”
I swallowed. “You don’t have to explain.”
“I do.” She sat fully now. “Because I missed you. Because two weeks felt like forever. And because…” She hesitated, her eyes searching mine. “I don’t know if you’re interested, but I thought maybe we could try something. Not public or dynasty-level. Just… us.”
“What are you saying?” I asked slowly.
“Discreet. Just… seeing each other. If that’s what you want.”
I stared at her. Replayed it twice in my head making sure it hadn’t been a hallucination.
“I mean, we don’t have to talk about it now. Your head’s probably—”
“Yes.”
She blinked.
“Yes,” I said again. “That’s what I want.”
She exhaled slowly before smiling. “We can talk about details later. Just… I wanted you to know.”She reached for me again. Touched my face like I was something worth holding. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Just buried my face back into her chest. Before I said something stupid or scared her off.
We sat in silence. Gently started wiping the dried blood off my arm.
“You know. You might want to shower.” She said.
“Yeah,” I muttered. “Not my best look.”
“Not the worst either.” She looked up. “I’ve always liked you messy.”
I raised an eyebrow. “That so?”
She leaned in and kissed my temple. “I missed you too, Vince.”
I winced and dropped my head back against the pillows. “I think I’m dying.”
She arched a brow. “Want me to supervise your shower? Just to make sure you don’t drown or accidentally use body wash on your hair?”
“Absolutely not.” I groaned.
“Alright,” she said, tugging at my arm. “Come on, soldier. Let’s get you sitting upright.”
I let her help me to the edge of the bed with another groan. The floor tilted slightly. I felt like I’d been hit by a truck. “Mm.” She stood in front of me, and then, without warning, gently pulled my head to her stomach.
I let her. Couldn’t have fought her even if I wanted to.
Her hands stroked through my hair. My forehead rested against her ribs, and I hated how much comfort I found in it.
“I like my Crow like this,” she whispered above me. “All needy and wrecked.”
I chuckled low. “Remind me to never let you near me when I’ve been drinking again.”
“You keep saying that,” she murmured, fingers still threading through my hair. “But then you keep saying cute things.”
“Sweetheart, I’m thirty. I don’t say cute things.”
“You do when you cry over me.”
That sobered me. I looked up slowly, resting my chin against her stomach. “You remember that?”
“I remember all of it.” Her fingers trailed down the back of my neck. “Every word.”
I looked at her. The way her robe was loose, one side slipping, revealing the curve of her shoulder.
She leaned in, her lips brushing my temple. “Come have a shower. I’ll wash your back. Maybe your chest. I’ll even keep the lights low so you can pretend I’m not seeing you at your weakest.”
“I’ll be hard,”
She blinked. “What?”
“I’ll be hard. Real fucking hard. The second you touch me.” I paused. “Might not be appropriate for a nurse.”
She burst out laughing. “You think I’m appropriate? I’ve been mentally undressing you since you stumbled into bed last night.”
I groaned.
She kissed the top of my head. “Shower’s running. You’ve got about ten seconds before I decide to do it without you.”
I stood, grabbing her wrist and pulling her flush against me.
“Baby, you’re lucky I can still stand.”
Her arms slid around my neck. “We’ll see how long that lasts.”
I brushed my teeth. Gargled a heap of mouth wash. While Madeline got the shower ready.
She dropped the robe and stepped into the shower first. And I should’ve known right then I was in trouble. Her back was turned as she adjusted the heat, she looked like some kind of fucking slow-motion fantasy. When she turned, her eyes caught mine, and just like that, I forgot how to breathe.
She was so fucking beautiful.
I stepped in after her, every muscle in my body stiff, but not for the usual reasons. My head still pounded, the hangover not letting up, and it made everything worse—made me feel everything. The heat. Her skin. The quiet of us. How badly I wanted her. And how fucking fragile this moment felt.
She took the body wash and lathered it between her palms, not saying anything as she stepped close. I wanted to say something. A joke maybe. Ease the tension.
But then she brushed a scar a little too softly across ink. I hated how exposed I felt. Not because I was naked. But because she was seeing me. All of me.
The bruises on my ribs from last week’s job. The crow ink that marked me. The old knife wound on my left side. She paused at that one. Her fingers traced it.
Then she leaned forward and pressed a kiss just above the scar. “I missed you.”
Fuck. I closed my eyes, trying not to groan. She worked her way down, her palms sliding over my abs, slow and reverent, and I could feel my control slipping, inch by inch.
“I’m really regret drinking last night,” I muttered.
She smiled up at me. “Why?”
“Second time you’re naked in front of me, and I’m too fucked up to touch you the way I want to.”
“You’re touching me,” she pressed her hand to my chest.
“Not like I would if I were sober.”
She tilted her head, that knowing smile curving her lips. “So tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
“What you’d do if you were sober.”
“Madeline…”
She reached behind me, water running down her back, “I’m just asking. What would this morning look like if you hadn’t been drinking?”
I swallowed. “It would’ve started between your legs.”
She blinked, then smiled, so soft it almost broke me.
“That’s where I belong,” I said roughly. “On my knees. Worshiping you.”
She dragged her nails across my chest again. “What about now… in here?”
“Fuck.” My head hit the shower tile behind me. “You trying to kill me?”
“Maybe.”
I pulled her flush against me. My hands slid over her hips, anchoring her against me.
“If I were sober,” I murmured into her ear, “I’d have you against this wall. My mouth would be on your thighs, and I wouldn’t stop until you begged me not to.”
I moved my hands up her sides, brushing her water hair to the side.
“I’d hold you open,” I grazed her jaw with my teeth. “Make you look at me while I ruined you.”
She was breathless now. Her head tilted back. I really loved that. Her throat arched.
“Then I’d fuck you slow,” I dragged my mouth along her throat. “Slow and deep, until you forgot your name.”
Her fingers dug into my arms.
“I’d make you come so many times you’d cry. And I wouldn’t stop. Not until you begged me to.”
“You’re not helping,” she whispered, voice cracking.
“You asked.”
Her hand wrapped around the back of my neck. “I still want to hear it.”
“Baby…” I groaned, tightening my grip on her hips. “I’m trying to be a good man right now.”
“I don’t need good. I need you.”