Chapter 24
TWENTY-FOUR
AUSTIN
The morning light spilled across Selene’s bedroom in honey-colored streaks, catching on the loose waves of her hair where it fanned across the pillow.
Her breathing was slow and steady. One bare arm curled beneath her flushed cheek; the other stretched across the sheets like she was reaching for something in her sleep.
Me.
I stayed still, flat on my back, one hand resting on my chest like it might hold in the ache lodged there.
This wasn’t just good. It wasn’t just the best night I’d had in years. It felt like something dangerous, something I wasn’t supposed to want this badly.
She shifted in her sleep with a sigh, and the neckline of my T-shirt—stolen and stretched slightly on her—slipped just enough to expose the curve of her shoulder. The fabric shouldn’t have looked erotic. But on her? It was lethal.
The thought came unbidden, hitting hard enough to leave a hollow echo behind my sternum.
What the hell was happening to me?
I’d never been the guy to catch feelings like this—messy, reckless, clawing their way up my spine until they threatened to choke me. I liked keeping things light. Simple. I was good at being the easy one. The fun one. The one who didn’t matter enough to hurt or get hurt.
Now I was staring at her ceiling and wondering whether I’d ever feel okay sleeping in my own bed again.
The sound of faint giggling tugged my attention toward the hall.
Winnie had been asleep when we got back from the Lantern, but she was fully awake now, already conspiring, no doubt.
Cal and Elodie had tuckered her out on the farm and put her to rest in her own bed before we’d gotten back to the duplex.
Neither said anything about the way I followed Selene inside with a sheepish grin.
I stretched in bed, not ready to break the moment yet. I wasn’t ready to leave the warmth of Selene’s sheets or the way her body had curled toward mine during the night, like she couldn’t help it even in sleep.
She stirred again, lashes fluttering as her eyes blinked open. For a second she looked disoriented—then her gaze landed on me, and a slow smile spread across her face.
“Morning,” she murmured, her voice still thick with sleep.
Jesus Christ. I could feel it all over again—how she’d looked last night pressed against the Lantern’s wall, how she’d tasted when I kissed her like I couldn’t stop myself.
“Hey.” My voice came out lower than I meant, rough around the edges.
She propped herself on an elbow, the sheets pooling at her waist. “You’re staring.”
“Can you blame me?” I said honestly, not bothering to hide the heat in my eyes as I brushed a rogue strand of hair from her face.
Color rose in her cheeks as she reached for the cup of water waiting on her nightstand. She must’ve gotten up while I was still dead to the world.
Winnie’s laugh carried again, louder this time.
Selene’s smile softened as she glanced toward the door. “We probably don’t need to . . . explain anything to her. At least not yet.”
I hesitated. “Are you sure? She’s a smart kid.”
“She is,” Selene agreed, tucking her legs beneath her as she sat up. “But she’s also five. All she needs to know right now is that we’re here.” Her blush deepened as she glanced away. “And happy.”
I nodded, but something tightened in my chest.
Here. Happy.
It was strange how here only ever meant her side of the duplex. Her walls. Her bed. Her life.
I tried to shove the thought down before it took root.
“You’re right,” I said, forcing a smile. “No need to overcomplicate things.”
“Exactly.” She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.
I pushed myself upright and swung my legs over the edge of the bed, dragging a hand through my hair. “Come on. Let’s get some fresh coffee before your little tyrant finds us.” I stood and tugged on yesterday’s jeans. “You know she’s probably been plotting our downfall since sunrise.”
Selene gave a soft laugh. “She’d make a terrifying general.”
I laughed and agreed, offering a hand to help her out of bed.
Downstairs, the house felt still in that early-morning way—light filtering through gauzy curtains, the faint creak of old floorboards under our feet. Selene leaned against the kitchen counter, arms folded loosely across her chest as I found the coffee tin and started measuring out the grounds.
Nothing was in a rush.
The rhythm of it felt . . . good. Familiar in a way that had nothing to do with routine and everything to do with her standing there in my shirt, smiling like I was right where I belonged.
I sure could get used to this.
The thought came fast and sharp, leaving a hollow ache in its wake.
I had never truly belonged anywhere. Being the by-product of an affair meant that I was relegated to the fringes.
I had lived less than ten miles from my father and half brother but wasn’t allowed to know them.
Instead of drowning in those feelings, charm and humor became the armor to make sure no one could get close enough to poke at those old wounds.
Maybe deep down I had always wanted to matter. Not just to exist, but to belong. The realization made it hard to breathe.
I hit the brew button and leaned against the counter beside her as I steadied myself. My hand brushing hers just because I could.
“You’re quiet,” she said.
I shook my head, smiling down at her. “I’m just thinking.”
She tilted her head, her gaze searching. “Good thinking?”
“Of course.” I offered a smile that felt steadier than I actually was.
Before Selene could press, the sound of small feet pattering overhead pulled both of our gazes toward the stairs. A second later, Winnie appeared, clutching a plastic container filled with barrettes and her hairbrush.
Her grin was wide and conspiratorial. “Austin! You didn’t leave yet!”
“You were right.” Selene’s lips twitched. “She has been plotting.”
“I’m terrified.” I chuckled as Winnie marched straight into the kitchen like a tiny commander with her finger pointed in my direction.
“I need your head,” she declared solemnly, holding her hand out to me.
Selene choked on a laugh, covering her mouth with her hand.
“My head?” I repeated, brows raised.
“For practice.” Winnie held up her brush. “I’m learning High Fae hair design. My friends say I’m getting good.”
Selene leaned her hip against the counter, mug in hand now that the coffee had finished brewing, her expression soft and warm.
“Looks like you’re booked for the morning,” Selene teased, sipping her coffee.
“Booked?” I mock grumbled, holding Winnie’s hand and allowing her to guide me to a chair. She climbed onto the table behind me.
I looked over my shoulder. “I better get a five-star review for this.”
Winnie giggled as she set to work, tugging gently on my hair. “Hold still! You’re too squirmy.”
I shot Selene a look. “Your kid’s a tyrant.”
“She gets it from her mom,” Selene said, smiling into her mug. “Besides, you love it.”
Winnie clipped barrettes into my hair as she babbled about the new drama unfolding in her make-believe fairy kingdom. Selene’s eyes lingered on me longer than I expected, something unreadable flickering there.
And hell, I did love it.
I loved the way this felt—easy and domestic, like I’d always been part of their mornings. Like I wasn’t just a guy Selene had let into her bed, but a man trusted with small, tender pieces of her life.
This feels so damn good. Easy. Right.
But even as Winnie anchored a clip into place with her tiny fingers and Selene’s quiet laughter washed over me, I felt the flicker of unease in my gut.
The memory came unbidden, sharp as glass.
I couldn’t have been much older than Winnie—maybe six or seven—when it happened. Mom had taken me to the park for the afternoon, her smile tight as she trailed me from bench to bench, pretending she didn’t notice the way I kept craning my neck toward the walking path.
And then I saw him.
My dad.
He wasn’t alone. A woman held his arm, laughing at something he’d said. A boy trailed beside them, years older than me and looking like the coolest kid I ever remembered seeing—Brody. My half brother.
My chest had tightened, but I raised my hand anyway, a reflex more than anything.
“Dad!” I called out, loud enough for it to carry.
His head jerked up. For the briefest moment our eyes locked. Recognition flickered—quick and almost reluctant.
Then his expression shuttered. He turned away like I wasn’t even there, tugging the woman and Brody along with a hurried, “Let’s walk this way.”
“Dad!” I tried again, smaller this time.
But they didn’t stop.
A weight settled on my shoulder—Mom’s hand, warm but heavy. “Austin,” she murmured, her voice low and tight. “Don’t make a scene.”
I didn’t. I just stood there, watching their backs as they disappeared around the curve of the path.
That was the day I learned I wasn’t just forgotten.
I was never supposed to exist.
I shoved the memory back down where it belonged, deep and tight.
Don’t overthink. Just enjoy it.
I shut my eyes and let myself melt into the moment as Winnie hummed a tune, plotting her next braid like a true artist. Unaware of my internal meltdown, Selene laughed, hot coffee cradled in both hands as she watched Winnie secure the last pink barrette in my hair like she was putting the finishing touch on a masterpiece.
“You look perfect, Austin,” Winnie declared, hands on her hips as she admired her handiwork.
I mock grumbled, catching my reflection in the toaster’s chrome surface. A crooked row of clips sparkled like battle medals along my hairline. “I don’t know, bug. Think this is OSHA approved for the jobsite?”
Selene’s laugh curled around my chest, warm and easy. “You’ll start a trend, I’m sure. Rugged construction men everywhere, begging for sparkly barrettes.”
I turned my head just enough to catch her eye and muttered low, “Worth it to get that smile out of you.”
Her lips curved, her fingers tightening slightly on the mug.
“All right, Princess of Hair,” I said, standing. “We need to get you to school before you start charging clients for these salon appointments.”
She giggled, admiring my hair. “I only take payment in cookies.”
“Fair. But your mom said no cookies before nine a.m.” I winked at Selene as I gently lifted Winnie off the table and set her on the floor. “I tried negotiating for you.”
Selene hummed, shaking her head as she set her mug in the sink. “Such a good influence.” She settled her hands on her hips. “Let’s get you ready for school. I’ve got a work meeting in less than an hour.” Her arms opened wide, and Winnie tromped toward the stairs.
Before she left the kitchen, Selene’s fingers brushed my forearm lightly—just enough to linger. “You’re dangerous, you know. Making this all seem so effortless.”
I didn’t trust my voice, so I just grinned and tugged gently at the corner of her shirt.
“You keep wearing my clothes like that, and I’ll keep doing dangerous things.
” I shifted in one fluid movement, pressing her against the counter and gliding my hands over her hips.
Her brows arched as her cheeks went pink.
“I should go . . . before I start thinking about skipping work entirely.”
I kissed her slow and deep, letting her taste course through my veins. When we were both breathless, I grinned at her. “We can’t have that now, can we?” I stepped back, giving us both space to breathe. “Go on up. I can get Win off to school and you won’t be late for your meeting.”
Selene licked her lip like she was truly debating climbing me instead of the stairs to get herself ready for the day. The woman was irresistible.
Thankfully she was also the responsible one, because given an inkling of permission, I would have found a way to taste her again.
A few minutes later I wrestled Winnie’s shoes on, helped her zip her jacket, and grabbed the lunch Selene had prepped. Winnie looked up at me, her eyes flicking to the sparkly barrettes still tucked into my hair.
“You’re not going to embarrass me at drop-off, are you?” she asked solemnly.
“Me? Embarrass you? Never.” I ruffled her curls. “Though I can bust out my air guitar at the school gates if you want.”
She gasped in horror and shoved at my knee. “Noooo!”
Selene’s happy laugh carried faintly through the open window as I led Winnie outside.
Dropping Winnie off was routine by now. She waved, disappearing into a knot of friends, and I lingered at the curb longer than I should’ve, my hand still half raised like an idiot.
The bubble wasn’t gone, not entirely, but I could feel the edges thinning as I crossed the porch to my side of the duplex.
My place felt cold in comparison to Selene’s.
Silent.
No giggles, no coffee smell, no soft sounds of Selene moving around in the kitchen.
I toed off my boots and set my keys on the counter. The single-serve coffee maker gurgled impatiently as I flipped it on, but even the smell wasn’t the same. Selene’s house smelled like vanilla and toast and her goddamn shampoo.
Mine smelled like . . . nothing.
I padded down the hall, stripping off my shirt and tossing it across the bed. The sunlight didn’t hit these walls the same way. It didn’t hit me the same way.
As the shower heated up, I caught my reflection in the fogged mirror. Sparkly barrettes still clipped across my hairline.
“Jesus,” I muttered, pulling them free and setting them in a neat little pile on the counter.
My thumb brushed over one of the plastic flowers, and I recalled how proud and sweet Winnie looked when she finished my hair.
I could still hear Selene laughing—low and warm and soft enough to break something in me.
Don’t get comfortable. This is where it all goes sideways.
I braced my hands on the sink and let out a breath.
I knew I was lying to myself, but it would have been so much easier if what was between Selene and me was just a fling. But flings didn’t feel like this. They didn’t seep into your mornings. Your evenings. Your goddamn bones.
I showered quickly, yanking on a fresh shirt and jeans. My hand hovered over my phone before I shoved it into my pocket. I didn’t text her.
Not yet.
As I locked the door behind me, I told myself—again—not to overthink it.
Just enjoy it while it lasts.
But deep down I knew.
I was no one’s first choice.