~CAKE~
Training with Nico every night was starting to feel like psychological warfare.
Not because he hit hard, but because he didn’t.
He’d correct my stance, tap my chin up. Brush sweat off my lip with his thumb like it was nothing.
He’d touch my forehead when I landed something clean.
Once, a quick kiss like a damn reflex, then he’d walk away like none of it happened.
No explanation. No reaction.
Just, “Good work. Shower.”
And I’d go upstairs angry and wired and stupidly turned on.
Every. Single. Night.
Which was why I ended up using that overpriced vibrator in the first place.
Because apparently my husband liked starting fires and leaving.
Jerk.
By the third day back to training, Luca stopped hovering.
By the fifth, he stopped yelling every five seconds.
By tonight, he fi
