Chapter Eleven #2
He grins, unfazed. “Don’t be. Shit happens.” His eyes linger on me, searching, as if he can sense the storm I just left behind. “You hungry?” he asks, his voice low and easy, but there’s an edge there—like he’s not just talking about food.
I nod, still catching my breath. Alex grabs his phone, thumb moving quickly as he pulls up a local pizza app. “What do you want?”
“Anything,” I answer, voice a little breathless.
He raises a brow, mouth curving into a lazy smile.
“Pepperoni, sausage, or cheese? I’m gonna order pizza.
” He’s looking at me now with an intenseness that makes my stomach flip—hungry, yes, but for more than just pizza.
For a second, I wonder if he can smell the want still clinging to my skin, if he knows how close I came to giving in upstairs.
The air between us is heavy, electric, promising more trouble just around the corner.
“Cheese,” I say, the word catching in my throat as a ripple of guilt for Dean flares through me.
Alex’s fingers move quickly over his phone as he finishes the order, but then he sets it aside and gives me a look that feels like it sees straight through me.
Before I can say a word, he steps close and cups my face in his hands, his touch gentle but commanding.
“Darling, don’t torture yourself,” he murmurs, his voice dipping lower, velvet and rough.
“You know, if you want me, all you ever have to do is ask. I’d drop to my knees for you right now, in front of everyone, if you said the word.
” His eyes are dark, daring, a little wicked, and it hits me straight in the chest—heat and nerves in equal measure.
“But if Dean makes you smile, that’s a good thing.
I can share. I want you happy, Ayla. I want you messy, wild, and all mine—even if it means letting someone else touch you. I can handle it. Can you?”
His lips brush my forehead, soft and lingering, and something in me finally lets go—a tightness I didn’t know I was holding.
I feel myself relax for the first time all day, the storm inside me quieting just a little.
I’m still tangled up in guilt and confusion, but Alex’s words—shameless, honest, sexy as hell—pull me into the present.
For a moment, I let myself believe it’s okay to want this, to want him and Dean both, to want more than I thought I deserved.
The tension between us shifts, no longer heavy with jealousy but something warmer, more confusing—a tangle of want, acceptance, and dangerous possibility.
I let out a shaky laugh, the relief sweet and electric, and lean into Alex’s touch, letting the heat of his words settle somewhere deep inside me.
“Guys, pizza’s on the way!” Alex calls out, his voice echoing through the cabin.
Zayn and Dean roll in a second later, taking their spots at the table.
I slide into a chair, still feeling the heat of Alex’s look on my skin.
“Beer or soda?” Alex asks, and for a second, he grins at me like we’re about to commit a minor crime.
“Soda for me,” I say, trying to sound casual, but my stomach’s still full of butterflies.
The guys all go for beer—Zayn included—but even as he pops the cap off his bottle and takes a sip, his eyes never leave mine.
There’s a slow, wicked smile curving his lips, and the way he watches me makes my skin spark, like the whole table could vanish and he’d still be looking only at me.
Alex passes out drinks, and we start joking around as the hunger sets in for everyone. Dean’s stomach growls so loud we all burst out laughing. “Jesus, Dean, you trying to out-hunger all of us?” Zayn teases, waggling his finger at him. “You know Ayla’s the real MVP—she’s gonna put us all to shame.”
I groan. “I could eat an entire pizza myself. I’m starving. And if anyone tries to take my slice, I will bite.”
“Noted,” Alex says, eyes twinkling. "I wouldn’t risk my fingers."
Dean leans in conspiratorially, “So, Ayla, what’s your dream pizza? Don’t say pineapple, or we might have to stage an intervention.”
I laugh, “Cheese, obviously. I’m not a monster.”
All the while, I can feel Zayn’s eyes on me, watching, never wavering—his attention like a low, steady current, impossible to ignore. For a moment, it feels almost normal: four people, hungry and laughing, pretending there’s nothing outside these walls that could break us.
Once the food arrives, the kitchen goes oddly quiet—but not in a peaceful way.
Every time I look up, one of them is watching me.
Alex’s gaze is smoldering, heavy with something that makes my breath catch.
Zayn’s eyes are unblinking and hungry, his stare never wavering from my mouth, like he’s imagining what I taste like.
Dean’s is softer, but edged with his own longing, a warmth that makes my skin prickle with awareness.
It’s not just that they’re looking—it’s the way they all watch each other, too, like every shift in the air, every brush of my hand or flick of my hair, is a ripple in some deeper current.
I can feel the tension building between the four of us, a tangled web of curiosity, and the knowledge that we’re all pretending not to notice how precarious this balance is.
Each laugh is a little too loud, each glance a little too lingering.
The heat of their attention is a physical thing, winding tighter around me until I’m almost dizzy with it.
I eat, pretending not to notice, but my cheeks burn and my heart thunders in my chest. I can feel the hunger in the room—not just for food, but for something rawer, more electric.
Every conversation is loaded, every touch accidental but meaningful.
It’s overwhelming, this feeling of being the center of gravity, of knowing they’re all watching and waiting, their desires barely held in check.
When my plate’s clean, I push it away, the weight of their stares almost too much to take.
I feel exposed, cherished, and just a little bit hunted, as if they are in a silent battle for me.
“I’m tired,” I say with a yawn that’s only half-faked, my voice shaky around the edges.
“Think I’m going to get some sleep.” I slide out of my seat, suddenly desperate for space, and head to my room.
As soon as the door clicks shut and I collapse onto the bed, I let out a shaky breath.
Sleep won’t come—not with all this energy buzzing under my skin, the memory of their eyes on me lingering like a brand—but at least in the quiet, I can finally breathe and try to untangle my thoughts.