Page 49 of Second to None

Like stepping off a cliff. The rush of air stole all thought, suspended in weightless infinity, only to crash back into myself—deep and soft, heart thundering in my ears.

Breaths mingling, his arms around me like he intended to hold on for life. “Stay,” he said.

I shouldn’t.

The sheets rustled when he shifted under me, pulling back just enough for our eyes to meet. “Please?”

And I just… collapsed. I was already in too deep, folding right back into him like I’d learned nothing at all. This was going to hurt either way—might as well enjoy the high before gravity hit.

“Okay,” I said, and it felt like temporary surrender. Just for tonight.

CHAPTER12

Cass

Leeds, Saturday, August 23rd

I woke slowly, like surfacing through layers of warmth and quiet. The backs of my lids were drenched in brightness—sunlight, slipping through a crack in the heavy curtains and splashing gold over the charcoal walls.

Levi. Was he?—?

Yes. I could tell he was here without even turning over, sense it in the dip of the mattress and the nearly inaudible breaths he drew. He hadn’t run come morning. That was... good? Unless he’d only stayed to crush my heart.

Jesus. Seemed I’d woken up on the dramatic side of the bed.

I rolled over and found him already awake. Propped up on one elbow, he was watching me with a slow smile that felt private, sunlight softening the angles of his face in a way that made him appear younger. He didn’t look like he regretted last night.

Something eased around my ribs. “Hi.”

“G’morning.” Warm and a little thoughtful, but not closed off. Not like he was gearing up for some kind of speech about how thanks, he’d finally gotten me out of his system—or, worse, how it had been just a leftover bit of stage magic.Look at that—no one’s quite immune totheCassian Monroe. Funny, innit?

“You’re, uh.” I glanced around us, at the messy sprawl of white linens, crumpled and thrown about like they held my secrets tucked into their folds. “You’re still here.”

He hesitated. “Yeah. Never been the kind to run.”

Unlike me?

My thought must have been easy to read because he sighed. “Hey, no. Not how I meant it.”

“Right.” I shifted slightly and forced myself to meet his eyes again. “And I, you know—you still being here. I was afraid you were, like, trying to fuck me out of your system.”

He stayed silent for a beat, studying me with an intensity I couldn’t quite decipher, his eyes a lucid green in the morning light. “I don’t know,” he said finally, a hint of distance in his tone. “If so, it didn’t work.”

He’d always been the honest type. I appreciated it, in spite of the raw ache in my throat. “I’m glad it didn’t.”

I reached for him, careful and slow, giving him plenty of time to pull back. He didn’t move. So I cupped his jaw, fingers brushing over the prickle of stubble. Closer, until only our foreheads touched, the duvet caught somewhere between our bare chests, and still he made no attempt to extricate himself. The weight of that settled in my chest, heavy like hope. I kissed him—gentle, just a close-mouthed press of our lips because morning breath was a thing, but it calmed the ripples of my thoughts.

He drew back first, sliding a hand along the curve of my hip. “I should get back, though. Cosma and the lads expect me at breakfast.”

Of course. He had a life, and I couldn’t expect him to put it on hold for me.

I inhaled, staring at the nightstand and its orderly arrangement of objects, disrupted by a half-empty glass of water that we’d shared last night. We hadn’t bothered with a shower, just splashed some water on ourselves to wash off the worst of the sweat and lube and come—and maybe part of me hadn’t wanted to get clean at all, keeping the memory of him right there on my skin.

The way he’d moved in me, every thrust deliberate, fingers digging into my thigh. His breath hot against my throat. Restoring a claim he’d never lost.

“Cass?” he asked, still gently touching me, as though I was a delicate thing to be cherished.

“Come back later?” I asked.

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