Page 58 of Isaia

“Are you aching for me?”

I lick my lips, barely managing to whisper, “Yes.”

“Good,” he murmurs, like he already knows.

I’m whimpering as his thumb brushes over my bottom lip before he leans in, pressing the lightest, most devastating kiss against my trembling mouth.

“Now, go to bed, and dream of me fucking you until you’re nothing but a trembling…mindless…beautiful mess beneath me.”

He pulls back, his dark gaze lingering for just a heartbeat longer before he straightens, his presence towering, commanding. Without another word, he turns and strides toward the door, his movements fluid, his dominance etched into every step.

“Sleep tight, troublemaker.”

I sit there, trembling, the room achingly quiet now. My lips are still tingling, my body thrumming with the phantom echoes of his touch.

He’s gone, yet he’s still here—wrapped around me, clawing at my mind, marking me in ways I can’t undo.

Chapter 18

EVERLY

The familiar hiss of the espresso machine fills the air, mingling with the hum of conversation and the rich scent of freshly ground beans.

Usually, the cozy chaos of the café would be comforting, a welcome distraction. But today, every noise feels louder, every movement more jarring, like the world is on fast-forward while I’m stuck on pause.

It’s been days since he left my house in the middle of the night, and I haven’t seen him since. Now I’m annoyed at myself for hating that he hasn’t been around.

Every time the bell chimed, I’d glance at the door, my stomach doing that annoying little flip. But it’s never him.

And I guess that’s a good thing.

Maybe he finally decided to back off, to give me some breathing room.

Or maybe he’s just got better things to do than haunt a coffee shop, watching me pour lattes and deal with customers who act like oat milk is an exotic treasure.

Still, there’s this nagging feeling I can’t shake. Like he’s close. Watching. And every night when I turn off my bedroom light, I wonder if he’ll come for me again. It’s insane, I know. But it’s not like I can choose exactly what gets my heart racing and blood humming.

Isaia is everything I’m trying to build a life away from. He’s the embodiment of everything I thought I didn’t want.

Thought.

It’s like the universe is trying to prove a point—the point being that we don’t get to choose our own fates.

I focus on wiping down the counter and lining up fresh croissants in the display case, but my hands move on autopilot while my mind races.

“Earth to Everly.”

Molly’s voice cuts through my thoughts, and I blink, realizing I’ve been polishing the same spot on the counter for who knows how long. She’s standing there with her hands on her hips, one perfectly arched brow raised.

“You’ve been in another world all morning.”

I set the rag down. “I’m fine.”

“Bullshit.” She grabs my arm and pulls me toward the back. “Break time.”

“Molly, I don’t need a?—”

“You need caffeine and a friend who’s not afraid to call you out,” she says firmly, handing me a caramel macchiato once we’re in the break room. “Now, spill. What’s got you so distracted?”

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