Rejected by One, Wanted by Another

In His House

The ride ended in a narrow alleyway behind a row of old brick buildings. Jonathan put off the engine.

"We’re here," he said, his voice raspy.

Lucy came down with shaky legs, her knees nearly buckling. Jonathan caught her by the elbow, steadying her as he led her toward a heavy steel door. He fumbled with a set of keys, threw the door open, and ushered her inside.

The apartment was small, smelling of old wood, coffee, and the faint, masculine scent of Jonathan’s cologne. It was a modest space, far different from the marble and polished houses Lucy was used to but it felt homely and safe.

Jonathan flipped a switch, and the room light came on. He turned to her, and the words he was about to say died in his throat.

The rain had been very heavy. Lucy’s light, floral summer dress was completely translucent, plastered to her skin like a second layer. The thin fabric left nothing to the imagination, tracing the soft curves of her waist and the swell of her breasts. Her hair was a dark, tangled silk across her shoulders, and her shivering was so violent her teeth were chattering.

Jonathan’s gaze darkened, as he swallowed hard. He looked away abruptly, his jaw tightening as he walked toward a small dresser.

"You’re going to get pneumonia," he muttered, his voice sounding strained. He pulled out a thick, gray cotton t-shirt and a clean towel, tossing them toward her. "Go. The bathroom is through that door. Get out of those wet clothes."

Lucy took the items, her fingers numb. "Thank you, Jonathan. Truly."

Inside the small bathroom, she took off the wet dress. She dried herself as best she could, her heart was still racing from the adrenaline of the ride. When she pulled on his shirt, it drowned her. The hem reached mid-thigh, and the sleeves hung past her elbows. It smelled exactly like him.

She caught a glimpse of herself in the cracked mirror. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were wide. She looked like a different person. She looked like a girl who had just escaped a shipwreck.

When she stepped back into the main room, Jonathan had changed into a dry pair of dark sweatpants. He was shirtless, using a towel to rub his damp hair. The sight of him stopped her in her tracks. He was built with broad shoulders and scars on his hard muscle that spoke of a life much tougher than the one Adrian led.

He stopped moving when he saw her. The oversized shirt hung off one of her shoulders, revealing a pale collarbone and the faint shadow of the bruise on her wrist.

The air in the room suddenly felt thick, charged with tension between the both of them

. "I... I should probably call a cab," Lucy whispered, though she knew no cab would come in this weather.

Jonathan dropped the towel. He walked toward her, his footsteps silent on the wooden floor. He didn't stop until he was standing directly in front of her.

"Adrian isn't coming for you, Lucy ," he said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "Not tonight. Not ever, in the way you want him to."

"He just... he forgot," she tried to say, but the lie tasted like ash in her mouth.

Jonathan reached out, his thumb gently tracing the edge of the shirt’s neckline, near the bruise he had tried to defend her from. "A man who loves you doesn't 'forget' you in a storm. He doesn't leave marks on you that you have to hide with makeup. And he sure as hell doesn't make you feel like you’re a burden for existing."

He looked down at her, his honey-brown eyes filled with raw intensity. "You're a Quinn. You're supposed to be royalty. But you're standing here in a scholarship kid's apartment, shivering because the man you're 'loyal' to treated you like trash."

He leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear. "You deserve better than a man who leaves you in the rain, Lucy . You deserve someone who would burn the city down just to keep you warm."

Lucy looked up at him, her breath hitching. The distance between them had vanished. She could see the flecks of gold in his eyes and the way his pulse kept moving in his neck. She wanted to stay right here, in the middle of the storm, with the only man who had ever truly seen her.