- twenty two - alex
I'm so fucking screwed.
Absolutely, completely fucked.
I’ve been teetering on the edge for weeks now, holding back, restraining, convincing myself that I had control. But the truth? The control was never mine to begin with.
Because Dana—fuck, Dana—is like gravity. An unstoppable force pulling me in, dragging me under, setting me ablaze like a moth to a fucking bonfire.
She’s sweet and smart and annoying and witty and passionate and short-fused, a whole fucking package wrapped in the most dangerous temptation.
She’s a handful, and damn if I want anything less than a handful.
She’s got me. Completely. Irrevocably. And that should terrify me.
Instead, it just makes me desperate. Me.
My fingers curl softly around her throat, not tight, just enough to feel the heat of her skin, the frantic pulse beneath my thumb.
And her eyes—those big, fucking doe-like eyes—stare right into mine, amber flickering with something I can’t even begin to decipher. Desire? Hesitation? Something worse?
How I even get to be this close to her is a goddamn mystery.
She’s divine.
Otherworldly. Like she was carved out of stardust and recklessness, and I—pathetic, hopeless, drowning—can’t stop myself from reaching.
The dam is broken.
Everything I’ve held back is spilling out in a tidal wave, drowning me, consuming me whole. This isn’t calculated. This isn’t me. I don’t do this—I don’t feel like this. But for her, for Dana?
Every rule I’ve ever had has jumped headfirst into the ditch, buried itself, and set the whole damn grave on fire.
I brace myself. If she says no, if she pulls away, I know I’m done for.
We had a balance, a rhythm, a norm that we never dared cross. And if she doesn’t feel this the way I do, I’ve just shattered everything.
But then again—
I’m not a fucking idiot.
I see the way she looks at me, the way she’s looking at me now. Like she’s trapped in the same whirlwind, caught in the same storm. She wants this. She has to.
Right?
Or is it just physical for her?
Because I know damn well that for me, it isn’t.
Fuck. This is why I don’t do feelings. It’s too much. Too messy. Too complicated.
“I haven’t told you to stop.”
Her voice slices through the chaos in my head, dry and expectant.
My brow lifts. “What?”
“It’s been like five minutes,” she huffs. “Are you gonna kiss me or just stand there looking constipated?”
This girl.
Fuck.
She’s gonna be the death of me.
A smirk tugs at my lips. “How much do you fucking talk?”
She opens her mouth—probably to argue, because of course she would—but I’m already tilting my head, already planning the best way to steal her words when—
“Meow.”
Dana jerks like she’s been electrocuted, pushing against my chest with both hands. I barely budge.
My jaw clenches.
The little cockblocker.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, baby!” Dana gasps, slipping right out of my grip like she wasn’t just seconds away from making the worst (best) decision of her life. She crouches down, scooping up the little orange menace. “You had to see that? Momma and Dada were only acting, haha.”
Unbelievable.
I stand there, fists clenched, watching in thinly veiled irritation as Dana presses kisses to the cat’s stupid fluffy head. So the filthy cat gets her kiss and I don't?
“How are you, baby? Did you eat well? Aww, look at you, you’ve gained weight, you cute little—”
I grumble under my breath, dragging a hand down my face.
I was right.
I’m completely, utterly fucked.
Dana finally looks up, and the fucking smugness on her face makes me want to either kiss her senseless or strangle her. Maybe both.
“Oh, don’t pout,” she teases, scratching under Lord Muffin’s chin. “It’s not her fault you got rudely interrupted.”
I scoff. “You mean we got rudely interrupted.”
She waves me off. “I’m not the one acting like my world just got ripped apart.”
My jaw twitches. “You—” I exhale sharply, pinching the bridge of my nose. “You are infuriating.”
“And you’re dramatic.” She grins, all bright and triumphant. “It’s kind of adorable.”
Adorable.
I glare. “Say that again, and I swear I’ll—”
“What?” She tilts her head, mock-innocent. “Kiss me? Oh, wait.” She gasps, pressing a hand to her chest. “You can’t, because someone is very jealous of all the attention I’m giving Muffin right now.”
I blink.
Then scowl.
“You’re delusional.”
“Uh-huh.” She hums, then turns back to the cat. “Don’t listen to him, baby. He’s just upset because you’re my number one now.”
I fold my arms, watching her fawn over the tiny traitor. “You know what? Fine. I hope she keeps cockblocking you forever.”
Dana gasps dramatically. “Alex.”
“Nope.” I shake my head. “I’m done.”
“Baby, don’t listen to the mean, mean man,” she coos at Lord Muffin, who just purrs in betrayal. “He’s just upset because you’re so much cuter than him.”
I narrow my eyes. “That’s it.”
Before she can react, I snatch Lord Muffin from her arms and—ignoring Dana’s loud gasp of outrage—gently set the little troublemaker on the floor.
Dana gapes at me, betrayed. “You—”
But I don’t give her a chance to finish.
One second, she’s staring in shock. The next, I’ve got her pinned against the counter, my hands next to her hips, my face so fucking close to hers she’s holding her breath.
Even her smell is driving me crazy. What in the fuck is happening to me? I can't help but nuzzle my face into her neck.
Her eyes flicker. “Alex—”
“Five minutes,” I murmur against her skin before leaning away to watch her face. “That’s how long you lasted before you started talking again.”
Her throat bobs. “And?”
“And,” I smirk, fingers ghosting over the bare skin of her waist as I push my fingers inside her floral blouse, “I think I just found a better way to shut you up.”
Just as I lean in, ready to finally close the goddamn distance between us, a loud knock at the door shatters the moment.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" I groan, pulling away from her, my frustration immediately bubbling up to the surface. My gaze darts to the door, irritated.
Dana, still caught in the electric tension stumbles backward, hands flailing a little like she’s trying to scramble away from the scene. Her cheeks are flushed, eyes wide in surprise and lips parted.
“I—uh—I kinda ordered pizza?” she says, a tiny sheepish smile pulling at her lips.
I blink at her, then at the door, then back to her. "Are you fucking serious right now?"
Her eyes widen further, and she stammers, her voice a little higher than usual. "I didn't think it’d show up just as you were gonna. . . um- do what you were going to do, okay?!"
“Pizza. Of all the fucking things to interrupt us, it’s pizza,” I snap. I throw my head back and groan in pure annoyance, but what else can I do? It’s like the universe is playing a cruel joke on me. It has to be karma.
Dana shrugs, awkwardly shifting on her feet. "I didn’t expect this to. . . turn into whatever this is either."
"You didn't?" I raise an eyebrow, but my voice drops, laced with sarcasm. "You're just sitting there, all sweet and innocent, and you’re gonna act like you didn’t just order food at the most inconvenient time?"
"Look," she throws her hands up, looking genuinely defensive now, "I was hungry! What do you want me to say? I wasn’t planning on. . . well, this!"
I glare at her, then glare at the door, which now feels like the only thing keeping me from diving straight back into whatever the hell we were about to do. "You're fucking impossible."
Dana crosses her arms, taking a step toward me, eyes narrowing. "Yeah? You’re dramatic."
I scoff, already sick of the word. “I’m dramatic? You’re the one who decided to have dinner delivered at the exact moment I was about to lose my mind."
She smirks, clearly enjoying herself way too much. “Well, you could've just. . . I don’t know, waited until after the pizza came?”
I stare at her like she’s lost her mind. "I'm pretty sure I wasn't waiting for pizza to save my ass. I was waiting for you to admit you want this just as much as I do."
Dana laughs under her breath, turning toward the door. "I can't believe you're this upset over pizza."
I swipe the pizza box from the counter with far more force than necessary and march over to the door, just to take the delivery from the guy. When I come back inside, I slam it shut behind me, turning to face her.
Dana is biting back laughter, her eyes dancing with amusement. "You look so mad."
I don’t even give her the satisfaction of replying. I toss the pizza on the table and stalk over to her.
"That was our moment, Dana," I grumble, now right in her space. "And you just—"
“I what?” she cuts me off, her lips quirking up into a teasing grin. “Ordered pizza? I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware you had a monopoly on everything in this room.”
I take a step closer, lowering my voice to that dangerous edge I know gets under her skin. “You think this is about the fucking pizza?”
Her smile falters, and there’s a brief moment of hesitation before she squares her shoulders, determined not to back down. “Yeah, I think it’s mostly about the pizza, and you’re just mad that you didn’t get your way. You should’ve thought about that before acting like you could actually get it.”
I can feel the heat in my chest, but it's not all anger. No, it’s mixed with something else. Something far worse.
Dana, sensing my shift, smirks, enjoying this way too much. “What? You wanna do this right now? You’re gonna act all moody just ‘cause I didn’t fall in line?”
I lean in a fraction closer, ignoring the pulse of tension that follows. “You're goddamn right I’m moody. I was this close to finding out how you fucking taste, and now...”
She blushes hard but plays bold nonetheless, raising a brow, the challenge back in her eyes. “And now...?”
I stand there, unable to hold back a smirk. “And now I’m just pissed that you’re too busy worrying about your damn pizza instead of realizing how much you want to kiss me too.”
Dana stares at me, her lips twitching in amusement. “So, what now? You gonna pout about it?”
I let the corner of my mouth lift, slow and deliberate. “Let me see, what am I gonna do about it?” I murmur, voice dropping to something that makes her breath hitch. “I’m not going to be chasing you, Dana baby."
Her brows knit together, like she's trying to figure out what I'm getting at.
I reach up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, my fingers lingering at the nape of her neck just long enough to watch her shiver. Then I lean in—close enough that she can feel my breath against her lips, close enough that all she has to do is tilt forward—just a little—
But I don’t move.
And when she tries to close the distance, it takes everything in me to move away from her.
She looks at me in confusion, eyebrows drawn together and I smirk, slow and cruel. "No, baby. You’re the one who’s gonna be begging now.”
Her breath stutters. “Y-you’re so full of yourself.”
I chuckle, low and knowing. “We’ll see.” Then, just to push her over the edge, I run my thumb over her bottom lip, watching the way her pupils blow wide.
Fuck, this is torture.
“You let me know when you’re ready to admit it, Archer.”
Because I know she will.
I watch the flicker of confusion, the frustration that follows, and yeah—I know her well enough to see right through her.
“Oh?” she says, lifting her chin. “And you're sure I will?”
I step back, giving her space. Letting her feel the distance between us.
“Yeah,” I say smoothly, grabbing a slice of pizza, biting into it like I don’t have a single care in the world.
Dana’s eyes flash. “That’s not—” She stops herself, narrowing her gaze like she’s trying to figure out my game.
I just smirk. “Take your time, sweetheart.”
And then I turn away, chewing slowly, savouring both the pizza and the way I’ve left her fuming.
. . .