Page 13 of Made For Ruin

“I know, I just—” A sharp knock cuts me off, followed by the distinctive sound of someone trying to kick our sticky door open.

“Use the key I gave you, dumbass!” Ruby calls out.

The lock clicks and Axel shoulders his way in, all six-foot-two of him filling our doorway. My heart does that familiar little skip, not from attraction anymore, but from the pure comfort of his presence.

He’s wearing dark jeans and a black button-down that probably costs more than my rent, his dark hair artfully messy in that way that takes an hour to style. A garment bag hangs from one hand, his guitar case from the other.

“Evening ladies.” He flashes his signature grin. “Miss me?”

“Hardly.” Ruby throws a dish towel at his head and Spike scuttles down her arm. “You were just here three days ago eating all our cereal.”

Axel catches the towel without looking, his movements fluid and precise like always.

Where Marcus moves with the contained power of a predator, all raw strength and intensity, Axel has the grace of a performer, every gesture calculated for maximum effect. Not that I should be comparing them. Not that I should be thinkingabout Marcus at all, or how his calloused hands would feel against my skin, or— I cut that thought off hard.

“I brought presents to make up for it.” Axel holds up the garment bag with a flourish. “Well, one present. For our girl who’s about to infiltrate the most exclusive club in Cooper Heights.”

My palms start to sweat. “What kind of present?”

“The key to getting you past the door.” He unzips it to reveal a black dress that makes my breath catch. The material looks like liquid shadow, all draping fabric and subtle shimmer. It’s the kind of dress that demands attention, the opposite of what I usually wear. My fingers tremble slightly as I reach out to touch it.

“Before you say no, remember that The Summit has a strict dress code. You show up in flannel and jeans, they won’t let you within a hundred feet of the place.”

“I have dresses,” I protest weakly, though my regular wardrobe suddenly feels childish in comparison.

“Church dresses and sundresses.” He holds the dress against me, his height forcing me to look up. The fabric feels cool and expensive against my arms. “Trust me. This is what you need.”

“Since when are you a fashion expert?” But I can’t take my eyes off the dress, imagining how it might feel to wear something so beautiful.

Ruby hops off the counter and comes to inspect the dress.

“Damn, Axe. This is gorgeous.” She nudges my shoulder. “Go try it on while I interrogate our friend about his latest romantic disasters.”

I grab the dress and head for my room, Axel’s dramatic groan following me. “That was one time?—”

“This month,” Ruby finishes.

Their friendly bickering fades as I close my bedroom door, and I can’t help but smile. Sometimes I wonder how I got so lucky with these two.

I walk into my room and take the dress out of the plastic cover to examine it more closely. It looks expensive, the kind of dress you see in those boutique windows downtown where they don’t even bother putting price tags on anything.

I slip it on, my breath catching as the material slides over my skin. The mirror shows someone I barely recognize – curves I usually hide suddenly on display, the fabric clinging in ways that make me feel both powerful and exposed.

“Holy shit.” Ruby’s voice makes me jump. She’s standing in my doorway, eyes wide. “You look incredible.”

My cheeks flush hot. “You think?” I twist to see the back, nervous energy making my movements jerky. The dress moves with me like water. “It’s not too much?”

“It’s perfect.” Axel appears behind Ruby. His expression suddenly serious. “Hey Ruby, give us a minute?”

Ruby glances between us, then nods. “Let me get my contribution to tonight’s adventure.”

Axel waits until she’s gone, then steps into my room.

Even after all this time, there’s something surreal about him being here, this rising rock star who still feels like the boy who used to share his lunch with me in high school.

“You really think the dress is perfect?” I ask. I smooth the fabric over my hips. “I mean, it’s… a lot.”

Axel steps closer. “Yeah, I do,” he says firmly. “But the real question is—areyousure?”

---