Chapter 14 Ego
Ego
She doesn’t realize it, but when she says one more chance, it doesn’t land like a warning—it lands like grace.
A fucking miracle, wrapped in cheese and dipped in red wine.
I don’t grin. Not right away. I can’t. I feel it too deep in my chest to wear it on my face.
My Angel’s giving me another shot, and I don’t take that lightly.
I take a slow breath. “You won’t regret this.”
“You’re damn right I won’t. Now, are we getting dessert?”
“You can have anything you want, but for me, you’re the dessert, Angel.”
Her hazel eyes glitter green and gold in the dim light and she leans forward mouth parting, and goddamn I want to see her like that, crawling to me on her knees.
Then she whispers, “You. Wish.”
There she is.
That fire. That mouth.
That blazing, beautiful spark that hooked me from the first second I saw her through that kindergarten door in her tight skirt and sweater.
You bet your sweet ass, I wish, Baby.
Christ, I’m so fucking gone for her.
And now, I’m going to do everything I can not to fuck it up again.
I signal for the check, but before the server arrives, she stretches slightly in her chair, pressing her hand to her lower back with a soft groan.
“You okay?” I ask, instantly alert.
She waves me off.
“Sure. I’ve just been tense all day. Can’t imagine why.”
I stand, walk around the table, and crouch beside her.
“Let me.”
“Let you what?”
“Let me help,” I murmur, brushing her hand away and pressing my palm against the curve of her back.
She stiffens for half a second—on instinct, not fear—and then I feel it.
That little melt she does when I touch her just right.
Just like that, my blood’s hot again.
But I don’t push it.
I don’t want sex to be what gets me back in her good graces.
I want her.
All of her. With her trust. With her rules.
But I’m not gonna lie. I want sex too.
“My place is just a few blocks from here,” I murmur, close to her ear. “Nothing fancy. Just somewhere safe, private, clean, and quiet. If you want to decompress, shower, take a nap or something.”
She chuckles despite herself. “Or something?”
“Whatever you want, Angel. But I promise you’ll be safe.”
“And who will keep me safe from you?”
“I won’t do anything you don’t ask for. Scout’s honor.”
“You were never a scout.”
“Nope. But I could’ve been. I look damn good in uniforms.”
That earns me a smirk. “You’re ridiculous. And I think I know why they call you Ego, but it’s probably pronounced more like ego.”
“You wound me,” I tease her as she stands. “Besides, you like that about me.”
She rolls her eyes but allows me to help her into her jacket, then she grabs her bag.
“So cocky.”
“Come home with me,” I whisper. “No pressure.”
She doesn’t speak as we walk out of the restaurant, but I can feel it in the way she walks beside me, how close she stays.
The shift in her energy.
She hasn’t forgiven me fully, but she’s leaning in. Curious. Tempted.
“Okay,” Sabrina says, and I feel the victory down to my marrow.
“Okay,” I echo.
Then, I open the SUV door for her and slide into the driver’s seat, my hand flexing on the gearshift to keep it occupied.
Because if I let it wander, it’ll find her thigh.
Or her neck.
Or her pretty hand I haven’t stopped thinking about since she touched me the first time.
The drive is quiet.
The good kind of quiet.
At a red light, I glance over. She’s staring out the window, biting her lip.
Thinking. Always thinking.
“You okay?” I ask.
She doesn’t look at me. Just nods. “I think so. Just still processing.”
“You want me to shut up or talk?”
She smiles. “Surprisingly self-aware of you.”
I smirk. “I have my moments.”
“Talk,” she says after a beat. “Tell me something true.”
Something true.
Shit. She really doesn’t ask for much.
Just everything.
I exhale.
“Okay. Truth? I used to think I was only good for one thing—hurting people. That’s what I was trained to do. What I was recruited to do. Then I started working private security, and it got a little better. Protecting instead of punishing.”
A pause.
“Then I met you. And suddenly it wasn’t about the job anymore. It wasn’t even about protecting. It was about you. Your laugh. Your anger. Your goddamn resilience. You’re changing me, Angel.”
“Is that good?” she asks quietly.
I grip the wheel tighter.
“You make me want to be someone better than I’ve ever been. For you. With you.”
She’s silent. I don’t push.
I park the SUV in the private garage beneath my condo building.
It’s a discreet twelve-story high-rise in Midtown, sleek and modern, with reinforced glass, blacked-out shades, and the best security system money can buy.
No names on the outside. No unnecessary attention. Just clean lines, quiet entrances, and complete control.
My unit is on the eighth floor—high enough for a view, low enough for fast exits if needed.
I swipe my key card, and the elevator doors glide open. She steps in beside me, silent.
I feel her eyes on me once as the doors close, but she doesn’t say a word.
Neither do I.
The elevator dings softly, and we step out into a short hallway that leads directly to my front door.
Only two units on this floor—one of them vacant.
I unlock the door and push it open, letting her step in first.
The second we’re inside—door shut, the hum of the outside world fading behind reinforced steel—she turns to face me.
“I’m scared,” she says softly.
I don’t hesitate. I step closer, my voice low, steady. “Me too.”
That draws a surprised smile from her, just a flicker—but fuck, it lights up her whole face.
“You?” she teases, one brow lifting. “Big bad Ego? Scared?”
“I’m not afraid of bullets,” I say. “Or knives. Or getting hit. I’ve been through all of that more times than I can count. But you?” I pause. “I’m absolutely fucking terrified of messing this up with you.”
Her teasing fades, replaced by something deeper.
Her eyes search mine, like she’s looking for cracks. Lies. Weakness.
She won’t find any. Not when it comes to her.
“Then don’t mess this up,” she says quietly.
And just like that—no fanfare, no drama—she walks past me, deeper into the condo, heading straight for the bedroom like she’s been here a hundred times before.
Like she owns the place.
Like she owns me.
Because yeah.
She already fucking does.