I felt the shift in the air before I could even process what I’d said.“No,” I mumbled, eyes glued to the crumpled sandwich wrapper in my lap. “I don’t regret it.”The words sat there, heavy and naked in the space between us.A confession that sounded louder than it should’ve been, even though I barely whispered it. Like the truth had peeled out of my throat before I had the chance to wrap it in humor or sarcasm or anything that could've softened the blow.And now it was just… there.Hanging.I peeked up through my lashes, unable to stop myself. Captain wasn’t saying anything. Not right away.He was just looking at me.Not like he did in class, or across the hall, or that first night we met in that shitty bar with all the neon and noise. Not with arrogance or condescension or that practiced smirk that made people either want to punch him or kiss him—or, in my case, both.No, this look was different.This one was soft. Unraveling.And there it was—the corners of his mouth twitching, li
ANDREW ~ I didn’t remember falling asleep. One moment I was curled up on the couch, the air still heavy with the ghost of Captain’s cologne. The next, everything was different. Quiet. Too quiet. In the dream, I stood in the middle of the hospital hallway. It was bright and sterile in that way hospitals always were. The air smelled like antiseptic and lemon-scented floor polish, and the walls hummed with a low electrical buzz. I knew this hallway. I’d walked it a hundred times. A thousand, maybe. But it felt different now—like time had paused and every sound had been swallowed up. My sneakers didn’t even make a sound on the tile. I kept walking, unsure why my legs moved but letting them carry me all the same. Down the familiar corridor, past the nurses' station. A room number pulled me in like a magnet. Room 312. I pushed the door open. There she was. Sitting up in bed. My mother. She looked exactly like she had before the accident—maybe a little younger. Her
CAPTAIN ~I pulled back from Andrew, and for a second I just stared at him, my breath heavy, my fingers still curled at his sides. Andrew’s face was flushed. His eyes flicked up to mine, dark and heavy with something I knew too fucking well: want.But I stopped anyway. Stopped cold.I watched as his expression shifted—confusion at first, then disappointment. His shoulders dropped just a little, like he was trying to hide it, but I saw.And I don’t know what it says about me—maybe that I’m an asshole—but seeing that little flash of disappointment in his eyes was weirdly satisfying. It was like proof, in real fucking time, that he wanted me. That he wasn’t playing games anymore.My lips curled up into a smirk, and I let my thumb trace along his hard dick. “What?” I asked softly, my voice low and a little rough. “Disappointed already?”He opened his mouth, then shut it again. His eyes darted away from mine for a second, like he didn’t know how to answer.I let out a quiet chuckle, shaki
ANDREW ~How did things turn out like this?That was the only coherent thought left in my head as Captain kissed me breathless, his mouth stealing air, sanity, and maybe a bit of my soul too.It wasn’t supposed to happen. At least… not like this.It was one awful mistake. One reckless, unspeakably stupid mistake that started, like most of my awful mistakes, when I couldn’t sleep.I’d been up late, the night blurring into a fog of late-night scrolling and poor decisions. One of Captain’s videos had popped up. It wasn’t even that revealing. Just moody lighting and those signature half-lidded eyes of his, slow gestures, that lazy smirk that felt like it saw right through you.I watched it once.Then again.And again.I don't even know what I was looking for. A thrill? A sign? Some sense of control?I didn’t find any of those things. Just heat curling under my skin and a sharp ache in my chest. That hunger again. The same one I kept pretending I didn’t feel every time he looked at me too
Andrew finished up in the kitchen, turning back to me with a small, almost proud smile. He grabbed a couple of chipped plates from the drying rack and scooped generous helpings of pasta onto them. The sauce was thick and red, steam rising in fragrant curls. My stomach gave an appreciative little growl at the sight of it, even though I still felt jittery and out of place in this tiny apartment that smelled like garlic and warm bread.He walked over and handed me a plate, along with a fork. “Here. Eat up.”I took it, my fingers brushing against his, and tried to ignore the tiny shiver that shot up my spine. I balanced the plate on my lap as he sank down next to me, his leg brushing mine. The couch was small, old springs groaning under our combined weight.I twirled a forkful of pasta, hesitating just a second before taking a bite. The noodles were cooked just right, and the sauce looked rich and hearty. My mouth watered.But the second it hit my tongue, I knew I’d made a huge fucking mi
I finally pulled up to the address Andrew had sent me. It wasn’t in the part of the city I usually haunted, that was for sure. The streets were narrow and lined with older brick buildings, a little grungy, a little charming in that rundown sort of way. It was the kind of neighborhood that smelled like old coffee shops and cigarette smoke, where graffiti was more art than vandalism.I parked the car and double-checked the address on my phone because, honestly, it didn’t look like much. A studio apartment? I blinked at the low-rise building, the chipped paint on the door frame, the flickering lightbulb over the entrance.“This is it?” I muttered, frowning.Not that I expected some fancy place—hell, I wasn’t one to judge. My own apartment was barely a step up from this, but still… I guess I’d thought Andrew would be in some sleek high-rise with a rooftop pool or something. The guy always had that vibe of having his shit together, even when he was being a cold asshole.I rapped my knuckle