Page 73 of Midnight Ink

“Don’t stop.” I offer a smile. “Let it go, Ian.”

Something snaps inside him.

Then he shouts, raw and heartbreaking. He brings down the bat on everything in his path. The wine bottles are obliterated. The old gaming consoles gone. An old metal filing cabinet riddled with dents. His fury is deafening. Ian’s breathing turns ragged. Then he drops the bat and chokes out a sob.

I step carefully toward him.

I watch his throat work then he rips off his helmet, setting it on the desk. His chest rises violently, and the broken look in his eyes hits me. I slip off my helmet and set it next to his, and I watch him. “Say it, Ian. Whatever you need to. Say it. Shout, scream. I’m here, okay. I’m here for you.”

Ian’s jaw trembles. “I didn’t get to say goodbye, Jules. I didn’t even get to say goodbye. He walked away from me that night like it was nothing and I never saw him again. I was fucking drunk when he was dying.”

I close the distance, taking him in my arms and resting my forehead to his. “Let it go. I got you.”

We stay like that while the dust settles around us and I let him fall apart.

I hug him tight, his arms squeeze me tighter, and he lets everything go.

The clean breeze outside makes my head clear some, but part of my mind is still back in that room with Ian crumbling. He hasn’t said much since we turned in our helmets. He sucks in a breath.

“How are you feeling now.”

“I feel empty.” He smiles. “In a good way. If that makes sense.”

Ian’s fingers slide into mine as we walk up the cobblestone steps to the bed and breakfast. He inhales sharply but doesn’t pull his hand away.

Then he stops suddenly and turns to me. “Thank you. For staying. When I lost it⁠—”

“Always.” I smile, cupping his face and smoothing my thumb along his jaw. I don’t want to break this delicate thing that’s growing. Whatever it is. I’m afraid to test my weight and crack it. “You don’t scare me, Ian.”

He lets out a breath that sounds like a laugh but feels like a cry. “Sometimes I don’t know what to do with all this,” he admits. “The anger and grief. It feels like poison.” He steps forward, fitting his arms around my waist and resting his head gently on my collarbone. “Thank you.” I can feel the smile in his voice.

“Always.” The sky cracks open above us. According to my app this will be the last round of storms while we’re here. I’m grateful they downgraded the hurricane warning. Still, we have thunderstorms all night to look forward to. “So much for sunshine.”

He pulls back and gives me a faint smile.

Then his lips are back on mine. Warm and soft. Grounding. “We have time before dinner,” Ian whispers. “I want to let go, Jules.”

“What do you mean?” I think I know, but I need him to say it.

His fingers tangle in my shirt, touching and teasing. “Take me back to our room.”

SIXTEEN

IAN

Istep out of the shower and see Julian on his phone, laughing.

It hits me so hard.

Damn he’s handsome. And funny and just fun in general. Not in the crazy, chaotic way Maddox was. It’s a controlled fun that allows me to breathe. That’s my problem, isn’t it? I keep comparing notes when there is no comparison.

They’re two different people, and maybe I keep trying to replicate what I used to have when something new and exciting is right here in front of me.

Julian isn’t him. There will never be another him.

And I need to make peace with that before I miss out on something incredible.

I can’t stop looking at him. His laughter dies when he sees whatever he does on my face. “What?” he asks, but I don’t know what to say.