Chapter 15 #3
He cuts me off by grabbing me by the waist with a growl and pulling me in for a kiss.
It’s hot, messy, and tastes like salt and adrenaline, and I lose myself in it until Marco clears his throat.
“We haven’t actually cleared the room yet,” he says dryly.
“Behave!” Juno calls, smirking as she slings her bag over her shoulder and heads for the door.
Toby cups his hands around his mouth. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”
“Which is everything,” Juno immediately fires as she disappears down the hall.
Lucky flips them all off over my shoulder, still kissing me between interruptions. Finally, he breaks away, presses his forehead to mine, and mutters, “Voyeuristic idiots.”
The crew filters out, voices echoing as they call goodbyes. The stage door closes, leaving just us, the silks, and the hum of the empty theater.
Lucky tilts his head, mischief glinting in his eyes. “You mind waiting for a few minutes while I shower real quick? I want to show you something.”
“Of course,” I answer, trying really hard not to imagine what that show would look like.
I’m his willing captive as he takes my hand and leads me down a short hall off the rehearsal floor.
His hand is warm against mine, his grin twitching like he’s trying to keep a secret but failing miserably.
We head down the dark hallway until we reach Lucky’s dressing room.
He disappears into the bathroom for five minutes.
I busy myself by responding to appointment requests.
He steps back out, steam billowing out behind him, wearing a fresh set of Saint Shade rehearsal pants and a sleeveless top.
Once more, he takes my hand and guides me down the hall.
He stops at a heavy black door with a keypad lock. Quickly, he taps in the code and swings it open like he’s revealing treasure.
“Welcome to my sanctum,” he says, voice dripping with theatrics.
I step inside, and my breath catches.
It’s a cavernous circular room, maybe thirty feet wide and forty feet tall, with walls lined in mirrors that rise from floor to ceiling, wrapping around the entirety of the room.
They catch every movement, every angle, fracturing us into dozens of reflections.
Even the ceiling gleams with panels that bounce the light back down in sharp shards.
The effect is dizzying—like walking into the inside of a diamond.
From the rafters, long silks cascade in deep jewel tones: crimson, indigo, black.
Some hang loose, others are tied off in complicated knots.
Ropes, rings, and bars dangle, all rigged to the steel grid above.
The air smells faintly of chalk, sweat, pine cleaner, and the metallic tang of stage lights cooling down.
It shouldn’t smell good, yet there’s something… heady, intoxicating about it.
Lucky crosses to the wall and hits a switch.
The fluorescent overheads snap off, plunging the space into shadow, and then a wash of dramatic lighting clicks on.
Blues and purples sweep across the mirrors.
The whole room transforms—no longer diamond-like, but moody, sensual, almost holy in its strangeness.
I smirk, folding my arms. “Of course you’d have mood lighting in here. All that’s missing is the fog machine.”
Lucky’s grin goes feral. “Oh, I could go grab it if you want.”
I shake my head, but I can’t help but grin. “It really is a beautiful space. There’s something special about it. It feels like… you.”
He nods, and the look in his eyes deepens as he looks around. This place, it feels private. In here, it’s just Lucky. No managers, no choreographer. This is Lucky’s holy place.
“This is where I break myself down. Every flaw, every slip. The mirrors don’t lie.” He steps closer to the center, his reflection multiplying around us until it feels like the world is crowded with him. “But they also show me the truth. Every angle. Every weakness. Every win.”
The light sharpens his cheekbones, makes his green eyes glow almost inhuman in the glass. He’s a kaleidoscope—ten Luckys, twenty, all looking at me, all smiling like I’m the only thing keeping him tethered to the floor.
He grins and nods to me. “Come here,” he says, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “It’s your turn in the silks.”
I know nothing about silks. But there’s something in Lucky’s eyes, in his confidence and the way he gives a reassuring nod, that makes me step forward.
“Hook your arms through here,” he instructs, holding a loop open for me. “And then you just kind of sit in it.”
I do what he says, following him exactly. It’s like a huge swing, sort of. I loop my arms back through it first, and then, with his help, I settle into the sway of the loop. My feet come off the ground, and I swing back and forth.
“There you go,” Lucky says, and he sounds so excited, so damn delighted, it brings a giggle from me. I don’t giggle. But around Lucky? All bets are off.
I lean back, extending my legs, making myself swing bigger.
High above us, the silks don’t even make a sound as they strain against the rigging hanging from the ceiling.
I pump my legs harder, getting a little momentum.
Feeling brave, I ease myself backwards, holding onto the silks, keeping my legs hooked.
My hair rustles around me, fanning out as I swing.
Finding even more bravery, I let go of the silks with my hands and extend them out, letting myself swing, holding on only by my legs.
“Holy fuck,” Lucky breathes. “This is an image that I will never, ever let disappear from my brain.”
“This does it for you, huh?” I tease, elongating my body, throwing a little flare into my moves.
Lucky simply growls. He grabs the little tail that hangs at the bottom of the silks.
I grab back on as he pulls me in a circle, sending it wide, speeding up my momentum.
But instead of launching me, he hoists himself up onto the silks with me, rising above my safe little loop in two easy pulls.
Like it’s nothing at all, he’s hanging upside down above me like a damn monkey.
“I think I like this view even better,” he teases as he twists his feet into the silk and holds on with only one hand. He looks down at me with an intensity I can only describe as… devotion.
I pull myself upright and reach up to grab the front of Lucky’s shirt with my hand. My eyes are locked on his lips the entire time as I pull him down toward me. Closer. Closer.
Until, finally, his lips meet mine. And I live out every girl’s Spiderman upside-down kiss fantasy. Lucky’s lips are hot, eager. His tongue traces my lower lip. My teeth catch his lip. My breath, his mouth, his air, my lips. It’s all the same. There is no end of me and beginning of him.
The silk circles smaller and smaller, until finally, we come to a still in the center of this incredible mirror room. And I kiss Lucky like my life depends on it. Like he’s the last bit of oxygen I’ll ever experience.
And I know. With every part of my being. And I can’t contain it.
“I love you, Lucky,” I say as I brace my hand against the side of his neck. His pulse is a runaway train.
For a second, he just stares at me. Like my words punched him in the chest and knocked all the air out. His mouth parts, then shuts again, green eyes flicking across my face as if he’s searching for the trap.
And then it hits him.
It’s in the way his whole body stills, the way his grin slips away like a mask falling. He blinks once, slow, and I swear I see the edges of his world tilt. Lucky literally flips down to his feet, holding onto the silks right next to my hands as he leans in a little closer.
“Say it again,” he whispers, voice wrecked, almost afraid.
I don’t hesitate. The words fill every part of me to the brim. “I love you, Lucky.”
That breaks him.
He grabs me like he’s drowning and I’m the only thing keeping him alive.
His mouth crashes against mine, desperate and hungry, and I clutch his shirt, pull him closer, closer, until I finally just wrap my legs around his waist so there’s no space between us.
His kiss is wild, unhinged, something trembles under it too, something tender that makes my knees weak.
When he finally drags back just enough to breathe, his forehead drops to mine, and his chest shakes with a laugh that’s not funny at all.
“You’ve destroyed me, Willow. Absolutely ruined me.
” His hands cup my face like I’m fragile, like I’m glass, even though we both know I’m not.
His eyes blaze, and the words tumble out like a vow.
“I love you, too. Holy fuck, I’ve never said anything that I meant more. I love you, Dagger Kitten.”
It steals my breath. Not because I doubted—he’s shown me in every feral look, every reckless kiss, every dangerous thing he’s done with and for me—but hearing it out loud cracks through me like lightning.
I smile against his mouth, and my voice comes out fierce, certain. “Good. Cause you’re never getting rid of me.”
He kisses me again, slower this time, like he’s memorizing the shape of the word between us. And I realize—I’ve never felt safer in my life than here, in this mirrored room, wrapped in Lucky’s arms and our thousand reflections.
Lucky kisses me like he’s starving, but as I try to climb higher, press closer, take more, he tears his mouth from mine with a ragged sound and rests his forehead against mine.
“Willow, I can’t—” His breath shudders. “I swore I’d never push you.”
But as he says the words, as he proves yet again that he’s the best man this world has to offer, I know it.
That hang up inside of me, the fear, the hesitation?
It’s gone.
All that’s left is want. Readiness. Love.
I tighten my fists in his shirt, hold him where I want him. My heart is hammering, but for the first time in years, it’s not with fear—it’s with want. Pure, unapologetic fucking want.