Page 108 of The Players We Hate
I brushed a strand of hair from her face. “You’re not on your own anymore.”
When she leaned into me, I knew something had shifted. We weren’t just clinging to the wreckage—we were starting to move forward. Together.
I threaded my fingers through hers and led her out of the kitchen, past the crooked frames on the wall and Rowdy’s laugh trailing after us. The stairs groaned under our steps, louder in the quiet. At the top, I loosened my grip just long enough to open the door.
She walked in first, her duffel slipping off her shoulder and hitting the floor with a dull thud. She looked around, not like it was new, but like she was measuring it against the last time she stood here.
I came up behind her, pressed a kiss to the curve of her neck, then moved toward the bathroom. The towel on the hook brushed against my hand when I reached for it. When I turned back, she was watching me, eyes fixed on me, not wanting to let me out of her sight.
I held my hand out. “Come with me.”
Her brow lifted. “To shower?”
“I need one,” I said, a faint smile pulling at my mouth. “But I don’t want to be away from you.”
This time, she didn’t hesitate. Her fingers slid into mine, and I led her a few steps to the en suite. I turned the knob, letting the water run until it steadied, then faced her again. Steam rose between us, curling into the space.
Her eyes stayed locked on mine, certain.
I brushed my fingers along the hem of her shirt. “Let me?”
She gave the slightest nod.
I pulled the shirt over her head, my hands lingering at her sides just long enough to feel the shiver that ran through her. Her breath caught when I unclasped her bra, and she leaned into me as it slipped away.
I eased her jeans down until they pooled at her feet. She stepped out of them without a word, leaving only her bracelet and the fire in her eyes.
“You’re so damn beautiful,” I breathed.
Her hands slipped under the hem of my hoodie and pulled it over my head. She didn’t rush, stripping the layers until it was just skin and heat between us.
I guided her into the shower, the spray hitting our shoulders before sliding down our bodies. She tilted her head back, eyes closed, letting the water run over her, and I just looked. Took her in, memorizing every detail in case it all slipped away.
I worked shampoo into her hair with slow hands, rinsing away the day, the tension, all of it. She turned into me, palms flat against my chest, and I dropped my forehead to hers.
We didn’t talk. We didn’t need to.
I held her there under the water, gripping her like I’d lose her if I let go.
When we finally stepped out, I wrapped her in a towel and kissed her—her shoulder, the corner of her mouth, the curve of her neck.
She tipped her head back, drops catching on her lashes. “Thank you,” she whispered.
I brushed my thumb over her cheek, my chest tight. “Wren,” I rasped, my voice catching. “I love you.”
Her lips parted, breath catching, but her eyes said she’d been waiting for it. She searched my face. “I love you too.”
The words hit me hard, breaking something open in my chest. I kissed her again, rougher this time, pulling her close until I couldn’t tell where I ended and she began.
Heat flared, but it wasn’t about that. Not sex. Not escape.
It was about us. Saying it when it mattered most, when the world pressed in and we still chose each other. And that was all I needed.
Chapter Thirty-One
Wren ~ Three Months Later
Tonight was our first event together since the season ended, and walking into the ballroom threw me straight back into the world of galas I thought I’d left behind.
