Chapter 16 ~ In his bed
Athena
Four hundred and five.
Four hundred and six.
I keep counting, each number a desperate attempt to steady my breathing, to anchor myself in something other than the storm of anger swirling inside me. But no matter how high I count, the fury doesn’t ease. If anything, it builds–high, relentless.
I hate him.
I hate that arrogant bastard.
But what I hate more is the gnawing feeling in my chest–the lingering warmth of his presence, the way my heart still stutters at the memory of him standing there, defending me, saving me.
Saving me.
The words echo like a cruel taunt, and I bite my lip, hard enough to taste blood.
Why did he do it?
How did ‘Alexander even know what was happening? It wasn’t him I texted–it was Noah.
Noah.
My thumb hovers over my phone, his name glowing on the screen. I should call him, and ask if he said something to Alexander if that’s how he found out. But something holds me back–an invisible wall of guilt.
“How long have you been fucking my cousin?”
The memory of Alexander’s voice, cold and venomous, slices through me again. My chest tightens.
Is that what he thinks of me? That I’m some pathetic girl throwing herself at his cousin?
An easy whore?
The insult burns deeper than it should. Because why does it matter what he thinks?
Why do I care?
But then–why did he hit Noah?
Nothing makes sense anymore.
My thoughts are a tangled mess, a chaotic spiral dragging me down. I need to stop. I have an exam in a few hours.
1/4
I need focus.
I need calm.
But there’s no calm–not with Alexander King still in my head.
3 AM!
The clock on the wall stares back at me. The tick–tock sound gets louder with each second.
With a frustrated sigh, I push to my feet and march toward the bedroom downstairs.
I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, but I feel like I’ll lose my goddamn mind if I don’t throw a few colorful insults his way first thing this morning. Maybe if I scream at him, I’ll finally get some peace.
My heart thunders as I stop in front of his door. The brass doorknob gleams under the soft hallway light, mocking me.
What if he’s with Leah?
The thought slices through me like a blade, but I shove it aside.
I wouldn’t put it past him, that man is the epitome of insanity.
Maybe that’s what I need–maybe I need to catch him in a much more intimate position with her, to watch him break me completely. Maybe then, I’ll finally have the strength to let him go.
Before I can overthink it, I grip the doorknob and twist.
The door creaks open.
Empty.
The bed is untouched, the sheets still perfectly smooth. The air inside the room is cold, and sterile, as though no one has been
here all night.
He didn’t come home.
A strange sensation creeps into my chest–not relief, not anger, but something darker.
Something emptier.
Where is he?
Did they switch it up and he decided they would stay at Leah’s instead?
I step inside, my bare feet soundless against the floor.
His scent is still strong–traces of leather and smoke and something distinctly Alexander.
It makes my stomach twist.
2/4
My gaze drifts to the nightstand, where his watch usually rests. It’s gone.
Of course, it is.
The man vanishes as easily as he breathes.
I close my eyes for a brief second, letting the silence wrap around me, and then an idea strikes me.
We used to sleep in the same bed until the day Leah returned. It was like he had a switch that I must say is very effective because he went from reserved but kind to full–blown asshole.
But it seems I have a thing for assholes otherwise Why would I be walking towards his bed with the intention of sleeping in it?
No.
That’s not it.
I’m only walking towards it because I want him to find me in it as he brings the love of his life home.
I want him to be as frustrated as I am.
Right?
The thought latches onto me like a vice, tightening with every step I take towards his bed. My fingers graze the edge of the mattress, and for a moment, I hesitate.
This is a terrible idea–a reckless, childish way to get under his skin.
But I don’t stop.
Instead, I slide under the covers, the sheets cold against my skin, yet carrying faint traces of him.
Leather. Smoke. A scent so distinctly Alexander it makes my throat tighten.
God, why does even his smell have to feel like a punch to the gut?
I bury my face into his pillow, trying to drown myself in the remnants of him.
If he brings Leah home and finds me here, good. Let him feel the same sting I’ve been carrying since the day she came back- since the day he flipped the switch and became someone I barely recognize.
But then again, I knew what I was signing up for. Maybe that’s why I’m still here. Because I knew who he loved before he slipped a
ring on my finger.
What the hell am I doing?
The minutes tick by, the ache in my chest grows heavier, and my body slowly betrays me.
The exhaustion I’ve been fighting all night creeps in, and before I know it, my eyelids flutter shut. The scent of Alexander wraps around me like a cruel embrace, and I slip into sleep.
3/4
A huge, smooth hand caresses my cheek.
I jolt awake, my heart thundering in my chest, and my gaze snaps open–only to collide with a pair of striking green eyes.
Beautiful. Intense. Unreadable.
Alexander.
His touch lingers on my face, and for a brief, dizzying moment, his gaze softens–a look I’ve longed for, a look I’ve dreamed about more times than I’ll ever admit.
“What the fuck are you doing in my bed, Athena?” His voice is raspy, a rough whisper that sends a shiver down my spine.
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