Page 103 of Hard Bargain

Nothing.

He reached for the plate, broke off a small piece of bread, and held it out. “Open your mouth.”

She turned away.

Knox’s jaw clenched. “Mom. Look at me.”

She didn’t. So he reached out—not rough, but firm enough—fingers against her chin, guiding her face back toward him. Her eyes finally met his, empty and tired. “Just a few bites,” he said. “Then you can stop.”

Her lips parted. Knox moved fast, guiding the food to her lips. She chewed with visible effort, as if even that drained her.

“Good,” he muttered.

She swallowed slowly, and Knox immediately offered another bite. After a few minutes, he lowered the plate, shoulders sagging with the weight of it all.

She sank back into the couch, the few bites seeming to have drained what energy she had left. He looked down at the plate. Half untouched, but better than nothing.

He sat there on the floor in front of the couch, plate on his knee, thinking about yesterday—Dominic’s hand in his hair, feeling things he’d never felt in his life. And now here he was, crouched on a dirty carpet, feeding his mother bread because she couldn’t do it herself.

Home had never been easy, but lately it felt worse. More claustrophobic. Like the walls weren’t just there anymore but actively pressing in.

He knew why. He’d been in Dominic’s world, where everything felt unpredictable and alive, where the air was charged and something could happen at any second. A darkness that felt intoxicating. A world where he didn’t carry everything alone just to keep things from falling apart.

Coming back here after that made the apartment feel smaller, like the space itself couldn’t hold him anymore. He looked down at his hands. The same hands that had gripped Dominic’s shoulders last night, that had twisted in expensive sheets.

He wasn’t going to shrink himself back to fit in here. Not anymore.

Chapter 27

Dominic

The message came through half an hour later:

He’s fine. Mother’s barely responsive. Apartment’s a dump, fridge empty, but no immediate issue.

Dominic read it once. Then again. His jaw tightened more with each pass.

No immediate issue.

That didn’t mean no issue. It just meant Knox hadn’t walked into a fresh crisis waiting behind that door.

He slipped his phone back into his pocket and turned away from the counter, moving through the loft without direction. Restless energy coiled under his skin, his thoughts circling the same place no matter how many times he tried to redirect them.

The taste of Knox still lingered. The memory of him in Dominic’s bed came back without permission—legs spread, skin flushed, those blue eyes wrecked and too open. He could still feel the way Knox had trembled under him. The way he’d looked after. Soft. Spent. Vulnerable in a way that sat badly under Dominic’s ribs.

Vulnerability was dangerous. It got people hurt. And Knox had given it to him anyway.

Dominic dragged a hand down his face and exhaled slowly. What the hell was he supposed to do with that? He’d thought fucking him would fix it. Get whatever this was out of his system so he could think straight again. Get back to a version of himself that resembled normal.

It hadn’t worked. If anything, it had made it spectacularly worse. Now he knew exactly how Knox sounded, how easily he unraveled when pushed the right way. He knew the look on his face when he came apart, the tremor in his voice when he whispered please, and the feel of his hair under his fingers as he smiled up at him, eyes half-closed.

Fuck. He wasn’t in a position to let this go any further than it already had. That line needed to hold.

His hand went to his phone before he could think better of it and dialed.

“Yeah, boss.”

“I need you to pick up groceries,” Dominic said.