What are we even?

CRISTOPHER

The city was loud, alive, and exactly what I needed.

Not the marriage. Not the ring. I left it on the dresser without a second thought. Whatever vows we said back there, they meant nothing here.

The club pulsed with heat and bodies, music threading through my veins as I let myself disappear into it. Just movement - the press of someone else’s hands at my waist.

“Relax,” the man behind me murmured, pulling me closer.

I leaned back into him, letting the rhythm take over, letting my hands wander just enough to keep things interesting. For a moment, I almost forgot— Then I felt it.

The cold, intense staring on my back.

I turned. And there he was. Xavier.

I smiled, and instead of stepping away, I leaned closer into my dance partner, letting my body move more deliberately now.

Let him watch. Let's see how far this would go.

“Enjoying yourself?” His voice slid through the music when he reached me.

I turned slowly. “I was.”

The man behind me stepped away without needing to be told.

Xavier’s gaze dropped briefly to my hand. “You’re not wearing your ring.”

I followed his eyes, then looked back up. “Neither are you.”

“That doesn’t make this any less reckless,” he said.

I stepped closer, tilting my head. “Reckless or inconvenient?”

“You’re my husband.” I almost laughed at that.

“And you’re mine,” I said, closing the distance between us, “but I don’t remember agreeing to behave.”

For a second, I expected a fight.

“Fine,” he said. “Then don’t.”

Before I could respond, he turned and walked away. I frowned. That wasn’t how this was supposed to go.

Xavier doesn’t even try and still gets attention . I watched as he leaned in —too comfortable—and when his hand brushed the other man’s arm, something sharp twisted in my chest.Then he looked at me. And I knew. He was doing it on purpose.

“Right,” I muttered, already moving. “Game on.”

I cut through the crowd and stopped in front of him again.

“Having fun?” I asked.

“I was,” he replied.

I glanced at the man beside him, then back at Xavier. “You don’t like losing.”

His lips curved slightly. “Neither do you.”

I stepped in, lowering my voice. “Careful. You might start something you can’t control.”

He didn’t move. Rather, he came closer to me. “Maybe I already have.”

The words hung between us, and for a second, neither of us moved, the noise of the club fading into distant, like we’d carved out our own space in the middle of chaos.

Xavier’s eyes darkened.

“Then stop,” he said quietly.

I blinked once. “Stop what?”

“This.” His jaw tightened slightly as his gaze flicked past me, towards the dance floor. “Whatever game you think you’re playing.”

A slow smile spread across my face. “You walked into it, Xavier. No one dragged you here.”

His hand caught my wrist before I could step back.

“I’m serious,” he said. “You don’t get to make a spectacle of this.”

“This?” I echoed, glancing down briefly at where his fingers wrapped around me, then back up at him. “You mean us ?”

His grip tightened.

“There is no us ,” he said.

“Then why do you care?” I asked, leaning in just enough to blur the line between confrontation and curiosity “Why does it bother you who I touch?”

“It doesn’t,” he said immediately.

I raised a brow. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“You want the truth?” he murmured.

I held his gaze. “Always.”

“It bothers me,” he said slowly, “because you’re doing it to provoke me.”

“Of course I am,” I said. “And it worked.”

“Then let me make something clear,” he said.

“Try me, ” I replied.

His thumb brushed briefly along my jawline, a movement that felt far too deliberate for a man claiming indifference.

“You don’t get to act like I don’t exist,” he said.

I tilted my head slightly into his hand before I could stop myself, to see if he’d pull back.

“Funny,” I said softly. “That’s exactly what you’ve been doing since the wedding.”

His expression hardened. “That’s different.”

“Is it?” I shot back. “Because from where I’m standing, you don’t want a husband."

“And you?” he countered. “You’d rather burn everything down just to prove you can’t be controlled.”

I smiled, slow and unapologetic. “Now you’re starting to understand me.”

For a second, we just stood there, breathing the same air, neither willing to step back,nor willing to give in, and the tension between us twisted even more.

“Take me outside,” he said suddenly.

I blinked. “What?”

“Outside,” he repeated, his voice lower now, more dangerous. “Unless you’d rather keep performing.”

“Lead the way,” I said.

The night air hit sharp and cool as we stepped out into the alley behind the club, the music dulling to a distant thrum, the quiet settling around us.

“You’re reckless,” Xavier said, running a hand through his hair. “You push, you provoke, you—”

“And you respond,” I cut in. “Every time.”

“And you enjoy it.” He said.

“Maybe I do,” I said.

“This isn’t a game, Christopher,” he said.

“No,” I agreed softly. “It isn’t.”

“You should have walked away tonight,” he murmured.

I met his eyes. “So should have you.”