Page 45 of Trade It All

The question comes out quieter than everything else, but it hits harder. Because that’s the one I don’t want the answer to. And I’m not sure I can handle it if it’s yes.

He doesn’t answer me. Not right away. Not at all. And somehow that’s worse. Because he doesn’t look away either. He just holds my gaze, steady and unflinching, like nothing I just said scared him off, like none of it made him second guess what he’s doing here with me.

The silence stretches, thick and fragile all at once, and I feel it start to crack something open inside me, the edge of it sharp enough that I have to swallow hard to keep it together. The tearscome anyway. Not falling. Not yet. But close enough that I feel them burn behind my eyes, threatening everything I just tried to hold onto.

I ruined it.The thought hits hard and fast, settling deep in my chest before I can stop it. That soft, safe place I had just been in… it’s gone now. And I want it back.

God, I want it back.

I want to take every word I just said and shove it back inside me, undo the moment, rewind it to where I was wrapped up in him and nothing felt sharp or confusing or too big to hold.

But I can’t. Because he’s already moving. He pushes off the bed slowly, never breaking eye contact, and something in my chest tightens again, not from fear of him—but from fear of what he’s going to say. Of what I’ll see in his face when he finally answers me. He doesn’t rush. Doesn’t close the distance all at once. He walks toward me like he knows exactly where this is going, like he’s not reacting—he’s deciding.

And when he reaches me—he doesn’t stop. His hand comes up, strong and sure as it wraps around the back of my neck, not rough, not hurting, but firm enough that I feel it everywhere, like it pulls my focus straight to him whether I want it to or not.

My breath catches. His thumb presses lightly at the base of my neck, grounding instead of restraining, his hold steady as he tilts my head just enough that I can’t look anywhere but at him.

“You weren’t listening very well earlier.” His voice is low. Controlled. But there’s something underneath it that feels heavier, something that doesn’t waver even a little.

“That’s on me,” he continues, not softening it, not backing away from it. “Means I need to be clearer next time.”

My chest tightens again, but differently now, like something is shifting instead of breaking. He doesn’t let go. Doesn’t loosen his hold.

“If I was doing this because of Tyler…” his gaze sharpens slightly, not angry, just… certain, “I wouldn’t have waited this long.”

My breath stutters. Because that—that feels true in a way I don’t want to question.

“I’m in this,” he says, slower now, each word deliberate, like he’s making sure I feel every part of it. “All the way.”

Something in my chest pulls tight around that. Not fear. Something deeper.

“I don’t want anything but you.” The words settle into me before I can brace for them, before I can twist them into something safer or smaller. “And now that I have you…” His grip tightens just slightly, enough that I feel it. “I'm not letting go.”

There’s no edge to it. No pressure. Just certainty. Like he already made that decision and nothing I said minutes ago changed it.

“Wrap your pretty head around that,” he adds, quieter now, something softer threading through it without taking away the weight.

And for a second—I can’t speak. Because the part of me that was bracing for him to pull away… doesn’t know what to do when he doesn’t. When he stays. When he steps closer instead of back. My hands lift slightly without thinking, resting lightly against his chest, not pushing, not pulling—just there, like I need something solid to hold onto while everything else settles.

I swallow. Try to find something steady enough to say.

“Can we…” My voice comes out softer than I mean it to, my eyes flicking away from his for the first time since he walked toward me. “Can we keep this between us for a little while?” It feels smaller than everything he just gave me. But it’s real. “I don’t want anyone at work to know yet.” I glance back up at him, searching now, hoping that doesn’t undo everything he just said, hoping I didn’t just push him again when he’s finally standing right in front of me. “I just… I need a minute before it becomes something everyone else gets to see.”

Chapter 20

Dean

She’sstillstandinginfront of me when she says it, her voice quieter now, softer than it was a few minutes ago, but there’s something steady underneath it that wasn’t there before.

“I just… I need a minute before it becomes something everyone else gets to see.”

I study her for a second, really look at her, not just what she’s saying but what’s sitting behind it. The way she’s holding herself. The way she’s asking without pulling away. There’s no fear in it. No hesitation about us.

Just… caution. And I get that.

I exhale slowly, letting the tension settle instead of pushing against it, my hand still resting at the back of her neck, my thumb moving once in a slow, grounding pass before I let it drop.

“You will not be a secret, Maddie.” My voice stays even, not sharp, not pushing—just certain. That part isn’t something I’mwilling to bend on. Not for her. Not for anyone. “You deserve more than that.”