Tommy

The VIP lounge was dimly lit, private, and quiet enough to hear myself think—unfortunately. Jason and I had been here for over an hour. He was nursing his bourbon and doing his version of casual people-watching—throwing out commentary about every woman who crossed his line of sight. Me? I wasn't watching a goddamn thing.

"She's got you in knots, man," Jason said, swirling his whiskey with a knowing smirk.

I ignored him, staring into my drink like it held the answers to all my problems. Kimberly fucking Hart. Her name was a curse and a prayer all at once. Ever since the night at her place—when she fell apart on that porch, and I sat there feeling like the biggest asshole on the planet—I hadn't been able to get her out of my head. She'd been avoiding me since. At practice, she'd drop the boys off and disappear before I even had a chance to look in her direction. At work? Same story. It was like she had a sixth sense for dodging me. And yeah, I should've gone after her, forced her to deal with whatever this thing was between us. But I didn't.

Because I knew she needed space.

And fuck me, giving it to her was killing me.

"I'm fine," I muttered, lying through my teeth.

Jason snorted. "Sure you are. That's why you've been sulking for a week straight. Shit, Tommy, even Billy decided you weren't worth flying back into town. Said your mood's been ruining his vibe." He grinned, knowing full well that Billy wasn't much of a club guy to begin with. After the strip club incident, I wasn't surprised he wanted to stay in.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Billy's got no vibe to ruin."

Jason chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. "Fair enough."

His eyes drifted to the dance floor below, scanning the crowd. Every now and then, he'd nod toward a woman—one with legs for days or a killer smile— like the game we used to play, but none of them did it for me. They couldn't, not when the only woman I wanted was the one I couldn't have.

"C'mon," he said, elbowing me. "You see her?"

I didn't bother looking up. "See who?

"That blonde over there," Jason nodded toward a girl leaning against the bar. "She's been looking up here for the last five minutes."

I was done with blondes after my disaster dinner with Katherine. I went to close the door on us, and while I think I did just that, I didn't entirely feel that much better. I knew I should have followed my instincts and not gone to see her, but Rocky fucking convinced me. Fucker.

I barely glanced her way. "Not interested."

Jason shook his head, laughing under his breath. "You're hopeless, man."

"Yeah, well," I downed the last of my drink. "Hopeless isn't trying to get me into bed."

He took another sip of his bourbon, letting the silence stretch between us before he spoke again.

"Rocky ditched us," he said, changing the subject.

I grunted. "Yeah, because he's got the attention span of a gnat when there's a woman involved."

Jason laughed. "True. He said he saw someone downstairs he liked. Guarantee he's already got her number."

That was Rocky. Charming, smooth, and able to read a room in two seconds flat. He never overthought shit. He just went for what he wanted.

Not like me lately.

Lately, I couldn't even tell what I wanted.

No. That was a lie.

I knew exactly what I wanted.

And she wasn't here.

She was probably at home, putting the boys to bed or making a delicious late dinner. Maybe sitting on that goddamn porch, staring out at the night like it had all the answers she'd never ask me for.

And me?

I was sitting here in this overpriced lounge, pretending like I wasn't already wrecked for a woman who made it very fucking clear she didn't want me back.

Jason was still scanning the crowd, his eyes sharp despite the alcohol in his system. Then he froze, his face breaking into a grin.

"Oh, this is too good," he sat forward in his seat.

"What?" I asked, already annoyed by whatever the hell he found so amusing.

Jason didn't answer right away. He just laughed, shaking his head like he couldn't believe his luck. "You're gonna love this."

"Spit it out, Scott."

He pointed toward the dance floor below. "Look who Rocky's dancing with."

My stomach twisted as I followed his finger. And then I saw her.

Kimberly.

My chest tightened, my heart skipping a fucking beat like I was some lovesick idiot. She was dancing with Rocky, her laugh carried on the music even though I couldn't hear it. She looked amazing—loose, carefree, and completely unlike the guarded, stressed-out woman I usually saw. Her hips moved in time with the beat, and for a second, I couldn't breathe. I smirked to myself for a moment, typical Rocky. Charming ass… I'll kill him later.

And then I saw him.

Some random asshole walked up to her, leaning in to say something. She smiled at him, and the guy reached out, his hand brushing her arm as he asked her to dance—I saw red.

My grip tightened on the glass so hard I thought it might shatter.

"Tommy," Jason said, but I barely heard him.

That guy—that fucking guy—was pulling her away onto the dance floor. His hands were on her waist, way too fucking close. And she wasn't stopping him.

I stood up, ready to march down there and rip the guy's head off.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Jason jumped up and grabbed my arm. "Sit the fuck down, man."

"She's with that fucking guy," I ground out, my jaw so tight it hurt.

"She's not with him," He said, calm as ever. "He asked her to dance. That's it. Breathe, Tommy."

"I'm gonna—"

"You're gonna sit your ass down and think for two fucking seconds before you do something stupid." He leaned back, watching me like he was sizing up a wild animal. "What's your plan, huh? Go down there, beat the guy to a pulp, and drag her out like some caveman?"

I glared at him, my fists clenched so tight my knuckles were white.

Jason sighed, setting his drink down. "Listen to me, man. You go down there like this, you're gonna blow it. She's gonna see you as the overbearing asshole who can't control his temper. And I know you. You don't want her to see you like that."

I swallowed hard, his words hitting too close to home. I hate that he's right.

"Let me handle it," Jason said, leaning in. "I've got a plan."

"What plan?" I asked, my voice low, skeptical.

Jason smirked, that shit-eating grin of his making me want to punch him and thank him at the same time. "We'll go down there. Act casual. Say hi. You'll play it cool, and I'll break the ice. Give her a reason to stick around and talk to you. Trust me."

I hesitated, my blood still boiling. But Jason was right. I couldn't afford to fuck this up.

"Fine," I said through gritted teeth. "But if that guy puts his hands on her again—"

"He won't," Jason said, already getting to his feet. "Now, I'm gonna go down there. Wait a few minutes and then go remind her what she's missing."

By the time we made it downstairs, I'd managed to calm down—barely. The sight of her, though, hit me like a freight train all over again. She was sitting at a table now, her cheeks flushed from dancing, her eyes sparkling. God, she's beautiful.

Rocky was there, too, practically draped over some girl in a way that told everyone she was already taken. They were laughing, touching, completely wrapped up in each other. And then Jason made his move, slapping Rocky on the back with a loud, "You're not gonna introduce me to your new friends?"

Kimberly turned, her eyes landing on Jason. She recognized him, I could tell, but the moment she saw me, her expression changed. It wasn't shock exactly. More like… awareness.

Then I saw him.

The asshole from earlier. Sitting too close to her, leaning in like he thought he had a chance.

He didn't.

Not with her. Not Kimberly.

But she wasn't looking at him—no, she was looking at me. Those eyes, wide and sharp, locking onto mine like I'd caught her off guard. Like she wasn't expecting me to fucking show up.

And yeah, maybe I wasn't planning to. Maybe I'd told myself I should give her the space to decide how she wanted to proceed, but she forced my hand by being here. By walking in this club and looking every bit fuckable. But one look at her, sitting there all tense and flustered, and every rational thought I had went to hell.

Fuck.

She was stunning. Hair loose around her shoulders, her lips pressed together like she was fighting to stay in control. But her eyes? They gave her away. Always did. She was pissed I was here, but she was also rattled. Shaken. And yeah, I felt that shit straight to my core.

I wanted to walk away. To ignore the way she was burning a hole through me. But no—the asshole had to open his mouth.

"Hello, nice to meet you. I'm Spencer."

His hand was out, his smile plastered on like he thought I'd give a shit.

I didn't.

My gaze dropped to his hand, and I swore the whole room went silent. He wasn't just oblivious—he was delusional. This guy really thought he belonged in my space, at my table, next to her.

Not a fucking chance.

"Spencer," I said, my voice calm, controlled, but sharp enough to make him flinch. "You're in my seat."

Kimberly's lips parted, and for a second, I wondered if she'd stop me. But she didn't say a goddamn word, and that only made me bolder.

Spencer blinked like a deer caught in headlights. "Oh, uh… I didn't realize—"

"You do now," I cut him off, my tone steady, like this wasn't up for debate. Because it wasn't.

The guy looked at Kimberly, like she'd save him. And for a second, I hated him more than I thought possible. Because he didn't see her the way I did. He didn't know her the way I did.

She was fire and chaos wrapped in a smile that could destroy a man. And yeah, maybe she'd destroyed me already, but that didn't mean some asshole like Spencer got a fucking shot.

"Move," I said, stepping closer.

I wasn't loud. I didn't have to be. I loomed over him, my size doing all the talking. Spencer's confidence crumbled in real time, and I didn't even hide my smirk when he scrambled to his feet, muttering something about a drink.

Pathetic.

The second he was gone, I slid into the seat, turning my full attention to Kimberly.

She didn't look at me right away. Her jaw was tight, her shoulders stiff, and I knew she was pissed—pissed that I'd caused a scene, pissed that I was even here. But beneath all that? There was something else.

Her pulse fluttered at her neck, her chest rising and falling just a little too quickly.

She was affected.

And me?

I was fucking wrecked.

Sitting this close to her, the scent of her perfume wrapping around me like a goddamn noose, I felt like I was walking straight into the fire.

But I couldn't stop.

Didn't want to.

"Miss me?" I asked, my voice low, teasing, like I hadn't spent every fucking second thinking about her since the last time we spoke.

She finally turned to me, her eyes blazing. "What the hell are you doing, Tommy?"

Her tone was sharp, cutting, but it didn't matter. Because she'd said my name, and that was enough to undo me.

I leaned back, letting my lips curl into a slow smirk. "Just reclaiming what's mine."

And fuck me, she didn't even deny it.

The second I saw that sly smirk on Trini's face, I knew I was in for it

"Well, if it isn't Dr. O," she teased, leaning back in her chair with her drink in hand.

I smiled, cocking an eyebrow. "You can call me Tommy, Trini. I think we know each other well enough, don't you?"

Her eyes sparkled with mischief, and I was positive Kimberly had told her everything about me. Every word we'd exchanged, every argument we'd had. Hell, she probably even knew every dirty detail about New York.

"Alright, Tommy," Trini said, dragging out my name.

I nodded, but my focus was already drifting to Kimberly. She wasn't looking at me. Instead, she was fiddling with the stem of her glass like it was the most fascinating thing she'd ever seen.

Rocky, ever the social butterfly, was at the head of the table, grinning like a smug bastard as he wrapped his arm around the curvy woman sitting next to him. He made a big show of introducing me to Aisha, a veterinarian from Stone Canyon.

"Tommy Oliver," I said, shaking her hand.

Her smile was warm, and I could see why Rocky was hooked. She had that no-bullshit confidence I liked in people.

"Rocky's already been talking you up," Aisha said with a chuckle. "I'm surprised he let you out of his sight."

"More like I let him off his leash," I shot back, smirking.

Rocky laughed, raising his glass. "Touché."

His attention drifted back to Aisha. Those two were in their own world, and I couldn't help but envy how easy it seemed for them. No games, no walls. Just laughter and stolen touches.

I barely heard the rest of their conversation because I was dying beside Kimberly. The wall that I had worked so hard to crack had brought in reinforcements. Kimberly sat stiff beside me, her arms crossed and her eyes darting everywhere but in my direction. The air between us was thicker than the bassline thumping through the club, and it was driving me insane.

Across the table, Jason and Trini were in their own little bubble. She was laughing at something he said, her hand lightly brushing his arm, and the idiot was eating it up. Jason leaned closer, grinning like he'd just won the damn lottery.

Then there was Rocky, who might as well have been auditioning for a rom-com with Aisha. The two of them were practically glowing. Rocky leaned in to whisper something, and Aisha's laugh rang out, light and free. His hand brushed hers casually, but the way she looked at him made it clear she didn't mind.

I couldn't take the silence anymore, I had to speak up. "You gonna keep giving me the silent treatment, or are we going to talk like adults?"

Kim rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her drink. "There's nothing to talk about."

"Bullshit," I said, leaning closer. "There's a lot to talk about, and you know it."

Before she could respond, Rocky clapped his hands, standing up and pulling Aisha with him. "Alright, lovebirds," he said, grinning at Jason and Trini. "Time to hit the dance floor."

Jason raised an eyebrow. "You trying to show me up out there?"

"Please, you can't keep up," Rocky shot back, earning a laugh from Aisha.

Jason and Trini followed them to the dance floor, leaving Kimberly and me alone.

Perfect.

I turned to her, resting my arm on the back of the booth so I was angled toward her. "Alright, they're gone. No distractions. Talk to me."

I leaned back, trying to find some semblance of calm, but it was hard when she refused to even look at me. Her gaze was firmly fixed ahead, lips pressed into a thin line. Like I wasn't even fucking there.

"Kim," I started, my voice low enough to cut through the noise around us.

Nothing.

"I've been thinking about you," The words left my mouth before I could stop them.

That got her attention. Her head turned slightly, just enough for me to catch the flash of fire in her eyes before she laughed—a sharp, bitter sound that cut deeper than I wanted to admit.

"Sure you have," she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

"It's true," I insisted, leaning closer. She shifted away like I was contagious, her shoulders stiff, her eyes already darting away again.

"Don't play me, Tommy. I'm not in the mood," she bit out, taking a long sip of her drink like she needed the liquid courage to tolerate being near me.

Play her? What the fuck?

I frowned, my jaw tightening. "I'm not playing you, Kim. I have been thinking about you."

"Oh, really?" she shot back, her tone sharper now. She finally looked at me, and for a second, I wished she hadn't. Her eyes weren't just angry—they were hurt. "Was that before or after you had dinner with some woman last week?"

Fuck. My stomach dropped.

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. Katherine. She knew about Katherine. When I went to see her—to end things for good—I didn't think it mattered. Hell, it didn't matter. But Kim didn't know that.

"I can explain," I said, my voice strained, trying to find the right words.

She snorted, shaking her head. "I don't need you to explain, Tommy. Don't worry. Message received loud and clear." She turned away again, her posture rigid, her hand tightening around her glass. "And I've come to the conclusion that I'm not interested in your little game."

"Kim, you don't understand—"

She whipped her head toward me then, her eyes blazing with fury. "No, you don't understand. I understand just fine. I understand that you're a fucking womanizing asshole that sleeps with a new woman every week."

I flinched, her words like a slap across the face.

"You're the same asshole I met in New York," she continued, her voice rising. "The one who charmed me all the way up to his room."

"Kim—"

She wasn't done. "The same pathetic asshole who walked into a patient's room with a damn hickey on his neck."

I clenched my fists under the table, my blood boiling at the memory of meeting Jeffrey for the first time.

"And now," she said, her voice dripping with venom, "the same asshole who made me believe, for one fucking second, that he'd changed, only to turn around and have dinner with some blonde the moment he got the chance."

She picked up her drink, downing it in one go, and I watched her throat work as she swallowed. My jaw tightened, my entire body coiled with tension.

"Are you done?" I asked, my voice low, deadly calm.

Her eyes snapped to mine, daring me to fight back. "Not even close."

My blood was fucking boiling now. "You don't know what you're talking about."

She laughed again, that bitter sound grating against my nerves. "Oh, really? Enlighten me, Tommy. Explain how this isn't exactly what it looks like."

"That was Katherine…" I waited for her to respond. I hadn't really talked about Kat with Kimberly before. I never felt the need to. "My ex." I elaborated when she didn't respond.

She rolled her eyes, "Like that makes it any better."

"I met with Katherine to end it," I snapped, my voice cutting through the music like a goddamn knife. "We've been done, I just wanted her to leave me alone… for us.

Her eyebrows shot up, the flicker of surprise in her eyes so brief it might've been imagined. She recovered fast, her mouth twisting into a sneer. "Convenient."

"It's the truth," I bit out, the heat of frustration clawing at me. "But you wouldn't fucking know that, would you? You'd rather assume the worst about me than give me the benefit of the doubt."

She scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief. "You don't deserve the benefit of the doubt."

Her words hit me like a brick. My chest tightened, the sting of her accusation mixing with the frustration simmering beneath my skin. "Maybe not," I said, leaning closer, dropping my voice low enough that it forced her to meet my eyes. "But I don't deserve this shit either. You don't get to throw me under the bus every time things get messy, Kimberly. Not when you're too fucking rigid to see what's right in front of you."

"Rigid?" she hissed, her voice rising with every syllable. "Fuck you, Tommy!"

"Did the truth hurt?" I snapped, unable to stop myself.

"You're the biggest asshole on the planet," she spat, her words sharp and venomous. "I can't believe I ever believed you for a second."

I let out a humorless laugh, leaning back slightly. "Your hot-to-crazy meter is off the charts, babe."

Her mouth fell open, and for a split second, I thought she was going to throw her drink in my face. I'm sure it would have been deserved but I didn't wait to find out. I turned on my heel, furious with myself for letting things spiral this far. I couldn't even explain myself to her because she wouldn't believe me.

Every step I took away from her felt like torture. My mind was racing, anger swirling with the kind of attraction that made me want to punch a wall. This woman made me insane. She drove me to the edge, and the fucked-up part was—I liked it. I hated that I liked it.

And I hated that I couldn't stop fucking wanting her. Even now, when she was driving me out of my goddamn mind, I couldn't help but think how perfect her mouth would feel if she wasn't using it to yell at me. Fighting with her was an addiction I didn't know how to quit. It was like foreplay, the kind that left you on fire, raw and fucking alive.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught her at the bar, downing shots like water. And Trini trying unsuccessfully to stop her.

Jason appeared at my side, his expression amused. "Uhh, that didn't go as planned," he said, watching the fallout.

I clenched my jaw, running a hand through my hair. "No shit."

"She'll come around. Just pissed about Katherine," Jason added, smirking.

"She's always pissed," I grumbled.

Jason slapped my shoulder. "You're fucked, man. Seriously. I'd say you chop your dick and balls off now and save yourself the pain. It's not like you'll be using them with her anyway."

"Real helpful," I bit out, but my focus was already elsewhere.

That's when I saw the dick cheese Spencer. That motherfucker had sidled up to her, leaning in way too close, his smirk smug and predatory. She said something to him, and his eyebrows shot up, surprise quickly morphing into that sleazy, confident look that made my blood boil.

What the fuck did she just tell him?

Red-hot anger surged through me, obliterating any semblance of rational thought.

"Yeah, I'd go handle that," Rocky said from behind me, amusement lacing his voice.

Without thinking, I was already moving, the crowd parting as I stalked toward them.

Trini looked up as I approached, her expression tense and worried. Kimberly, on the other hand, was slumped against the bar, visibly drunk now.

Spencer had his hand on Kimberly's arm, trying to steady her. Trini had the back of her hand on her head, her eyes darting between me and Kimberly.

"I told you to fuck off already," I growled at Spencer, my voice low and lethal.

He looked at me, trying to play it cool. "She said she's ready to go. I'll make sure she gets home safe."

I stepped closer, towering over him, the threat in my posture clear. "Fuck yourself. You don't answer for her."

Kimberly's head lolled as she turned to me, her words slurring. "I'm going with him, Tommy. I'm a big girl."

"The fuck you are," I growled.

"She wants to go home with me," Spencer said, his voice gaining some misplaced confidence.

I'd kill him before he had the chance to think about taking a step. She's drunk out of her mind and the fucker knows it.

"I don't give a fuck what she said. She's not leaving with you." My tone left no room for argument.

Kim's weight shifted, and both of us grabbed her arms to keep her steady.

"Let me go, Tommy," she slurred, her words hitting me in all the wrong places.

I'm about to lose it.

I grabbed her arm gently but firmly, glaring at Spencer. "Kim, just stop talking… fuck! "

My patience is hanging by a fucking thread. "I swear to God, if you don't take your hands off her right now, I will strangle you."

"Is that a threat?" Spencer asked, bis nostrils flaring.

"It's a fucking promise!"

His eyes narrowed, but he let her go, muttering something under his breath as he backed away.

I turned my full attention to Kimberly, shaking her. "Kim. Kim. Kimberly."

Her head lolled, her eyelids heavy, and I let out a string of curses under my breath. She's groaning, barely responsive… she's a goddamn mess.

"I've got to take her home," I tell Trini.

Trini nods. "She's was spending the night at my house. I'll take her."

She turns to Jason and I know that look. That look that says their story isn't finished. That she wishes things could be different. I've been seeing that look for months. I can't let this play out the same.

"It's fine," I muttered, making the decision for everyone. "Just… stay. I'll take her with me."

Trini hesitated, clearly torn. She doesn't trust me either.

"Tommy, I—" she starts.

Jason smirked. "It's okay, Trini. Tommy knows how to mop up a drunk mess, don't you?"

Rocky snorted with laughter. I've dealt with these two damn alcoholics for years. I've got it down.

Kimberly barely kept her eyes open, her body limp against me.

Fuck.

I exhaled sharply, sliding my arm around her waist to keep her upright. "She's coming with me," I muttered, already steering her toward the door.

This wasn't how I imagined the night going. Not even close. But I'd be damned if I let her walk out with anyone else.

The elevator dings, and the doors slide open to reveal my penthouse. It's my sanctuary—a sprawling expanse of polished wood floors, marble countertops, and floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing the city glittering below from the 52nd floor. Normally, I feel a wave of calm when I step in here. Tonight? I'm anything but calm.

Kimberly's arm is slung over my shoulder, her body leaning heavily into mine. She's completely out of it, her head lolling as I guide her inside. Her hair is a mess, her breathing uneven, and she smells faintly of alcohol and bad decisions. Jesus Christ. What am I doing?

"Welcome to Casa de Oliver," I muttered, more to myself than her. "Not exactly how I pictured you seeing it for the first time, but here we are."

She didn't respond, just murmured something unintelligible, her lashes fluttering against flushed cheeks. God, she was beautiful—even in this state, even with her makeup slightly smudged and her hair a mess from the night's chaos.

I shifted her weight as I maneuvered through the living room, the space pristine and untouched like a magazine spread. Leather furniture, curated art, and the faint scent of cedar filled the air.

"What the fuck am I doing?" I muttered, glancing down at her. She was barely coherent, her body limp against mine. "Where do I even put you?" My voice was low, as though I expected an answer.

I look around the penthouse, wondering where the hell to put her. The leather couch? Too impersonal. The guest room? Too far. My bed? …Shit.

She stirs, mumbling something incoherent, and her head falls against my chest. I freeze. My fucking heart stutters like a teenager's. Christ, this woman.

"Why are you doing this to me?" I whisper as I guide her toward my bedroom, her head falling to the side. She stirred, her lips parting as though she wanted to say something, but nothing came out.

"Kimberly," I said softly, testing her response. Nothing. Just the faintest groan.

I ran a hand down my face, exhaling sharply. "Great. Just fucking great."

She shifted suddenly, her eyes half-opening, and for a brief moment, I thought she might be coming around. I'm about to lay her down on the bed when it happens.

A wet, warm sensation spreads across my chest. I freeze.

"What the fuck?" I pull back, horrified, and look down to see the front of my suit completely covered in…

"Oh, come on!" I shout, staring at the mess. She fucking threw up on me.

Kimberly lets out a weak groan, her head falling back. She's barely conscious, completely unaware of the chaos she's caused.

This is fine. Totally fine.

I grit my teeth, shrugging off the ruined suit jacket and loosening my tie. "You've got to be kidding me," I mutter, as I remove my shirt. "This suit cost more than your damn car."

I didn't have time to wallow in my frustration. She was slipping further into unconsciousness, and there was no way I could let her stay like this.

"Alright, that's it. You're going in the shower."

Without a second thought, I scooped her up again, carrying her through the hall to the master bathroom. The space was as extravagant as the rest of the penthouse—white marble floors, gold fixtures, and a rain shower big enough to fit a damn football team.

I stepped into the shower fully clothed, water splashing against the tiles as I reached for the controls. The icy spray hit us first, and Kimberly gasped, her body jerking slightly in my arms.

"Yeah, sorry about that," I muttered, adjusting the temperature until it was warm.

She was barely able to stand, her legs wobbling beneath her, so I kept one arm around her waist while I reached for the soap with the other. The water poured down on her, drenching her dress, plastering the fabric to her curves in a way that made my throat tighten.

Get a fucking grip, Oliver.

I grab a loofah and some soap, scrubbing her arms and shoulders, trying not to think about how soft her skin is. She's barely standing, her weight pressing into me, and I realize there's no way around it.

I have to take her dress off.

My throat tightens. Fuck.

I swallowed hard, averting my eyes as I reached for the zipper at the back of her dress. The rational part of my brain screamed that this was necessary, that it was the right thing to do. But the rest of me—God, the rest of me hated that I was even in this position.

I tug gently, the zipper resisting before giving way. The dress clings stubbornly, the soaked material reluctant to let go. Every inch I peel away feels like a test of willpower, and I keep my eyes fixed firmly on the tiled wall behind her.

This isn't who I am. I don't take advantage. I don't—

I squeeze my eyes shut, forcing myself not to look as the dress finally slips off her shoulders and pools at her feet. "You're killing me."

She shivers, the water streaming down her bare skin, and my jaw tightens as I force my thoughts away from how soft she feels against me. I worked quickly, using the soap to clean her up, my movements gentle but efficient.

I wash away the night's mess, focusing only on the task at hand. The way her body leans into mine, the sound of her quiet breathing, the way the light catches on the water droplets sliding down her skin—I block it all out.

This isn't about her body. It's about taking care of

When I've got her cleaned up, I grab a giant white towel and wrap it around her, securing it tightly. Then I throw my robe over her shoulders and cinch it at the waist, just to be safe.

She looks small, fragile, and my chest tightens again.

I carried her out of the bathroom, her damp hair leaving a trail of water against my shirtless chest. By the time I laid her on my bed and tuck the covers around her, she was already half-asleep, her breaths soft and even.

For a moment, I just stand there, staring at her.

What the fuck is wrong with me? Why can't I stay away from her? Why do I care so much about someone who drives me insane?

She stirred slightly, her lips parting as though she might say something, but the words never came. I leaned down, brushing a hand over her damp hair.

"You're impossible, you know that?" I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper.

I pressed a small kiss to her forehead, the gesture surprising even me.

"Goodnight, Kim," I whispered, straightening.

I turned and left the room, closing the door behind me. The mess in the bathroom waited, but I cleaned it up on autopilot, my mind filled with thoughts of her.

By the time I collapsed on the couch with a pillow and blanket, exhaustion finally tugging at me, all I could see was her face.

And just like that, I fell asleep with her name on my mind.

Author note: Hey there! More coming very soon! Hope you guys enjoy! As always, let me know what you guys think in a review or PM!