The morning light spilled through the windows in soft streaks, but neither of them had moved from the bed. The weight of their conversation still lingered, pressing heavily between them. Vivie wasn’t sure what this meant—what his words had meant. Did he truly want to fight for them? Or was it just another moment where Ashton let his walls down, only to rebuild them again later?

But the day didn’t allow her to dwell on it for long. Ashton, as usual, slipped into his composed, untouchable demeanor, and Vivie decided she wasn’t going to let his moods dictate her own. If he thought she would pull away after baring her heart to him, he was wrong.

So, she did what she had always done—tried to get closer to him, in whatever way she could.

Over the next few days, she made it her mission to fluster him, to break through his carefully crafted restraint. She lingered near him more than before, finding excuses to be in his space. If he was in the study, she brought him coffee—not just once, but repeatedly, standing close enough that their fingers brushed when he took the cup from her hands. If he was outside, she sat beside him, sometimes playing with her hair, pretending to be lost in thought when she knew he was watching.

It was ridiculous, childish even, but Vivie didn’t care. She wanted to see him react. She wanted to see if she could bring out something in him that wasn’t just cold control.

And then one morning, she made her boldest move yet.

“Ashton,” she said, standing at his doorway, watching as he buttoned his shirt. “Let’s go outside.”

He didn’t look up. “Outside?”

“Yes. You’ve been inside all day.”

“I have work.”

She crossed her arms, tilting her head. “And I have needs.”

That made him pause, his hands stilling as his sharp gaze snapped to hers. “Excuse me?”

Vivie grinned, stepping into the room. “I need fresh air. And you need a break.”

He exhaled heavily, rubbing his temple. “Vivie—”

“Nope, no excuses.” She walked over to him, taking his wrist in both hands. “Come garden with me.”

His brow lifted. “Garden?”

“Yes. You know—flowers, plants, digging in the dirt. It’s good for the soul.”

He looked at her like she had grown two heads. “You think I belong in a garden?”

She laughed. “I think you belong anywhere I am.”

For a moment, Ashton just stared at her, something unreadable flashing in his eyes. Then, to her utter surprise, he sighed and let her pull him outside.

The garden was quiet, the afternoon sun warm but not unbearable. Vivie knelt beside a patch of soil, digging her fingers into the earth. Ashton, however, stood there, arms crossed, watching her with mild amusement.

“You’re actually doing this,” he muttered.

“I told you, it’s therapeutic.” She patted the ground beside her. “Sit.”

He didn’t move. “I don’t sit in dirt.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine, just stand there and look pretty.”

His lips twitched, but he said nothing. Vivie continued, humming softly as she worked. She was aware of his gaze on her, the way he studied her movements, the way his expression softened—just barely—as she tended to the plants.

Then, after a long silence, he crouched beside her.

She glanced at him, her heart skipping a beat. “See? Not so bad.”

He didn’t respond, his fingers brushing against hers as he reached for a seed packet. The touch was fleeting, but it sent a shiver down her spine.

They worked in silence for a while, but the air between them was different now—charged, heavy with something unspoken. And then, as Vivie leaned forward to adjust one of the plants, she felt his breath against her cheek.

She turned her head slightly, their faces inches apart.

“Ashton…”

He didn’t speak. His eyes darkened, his gaze flickering to her lips before he reached out, his fingers trailing along her jaw. The world around them seemed to fade, the only thing that existed was the space between them—thin, fragile, waiting to be broken.

And then, she closed the distance.

It was slow at first, tentative, as if testing the waters. But then Ashton groaned, his grip tightening as he pulled her into him. The kiss deepened, his mouth claiming hers with raw intensity. Vivie gasped, her fingers digging into his shirt as he tilted her head back, his tongue sliding against hers, coaxing, demanding.

She melted into him, the heat between them igniting like a wildfire. His hands roamed, gripping her waist, pulling her onto his lap as he pressed her against him. She whimpered when his lips left hers, trailing down her jaw, to her throat, nipping at the sensitive skin there.

“Ashton…” she breathed, her fingers tangling in his hair.

He exhaled against her skin. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Vivie.”

She shivered. “Then ruin me.”

His grip tightened. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

She met his gaze, her lips slightly swollen from his kisses. “Then show me.”

His resolve snapped. His hands slid under her shirt, tracing the curve of her spine as he pushed her down into the grass. The sun was warm, but his touch was fire. His fingers slipped beneath her waistband, teasing, exploring, pushing her to the edge of sanity.

His breath was ragged, his control slipping as he pressed kisses down her neck, along her collarbone, lower and lower. Vivie arched into him, gasping when his fingers found their way inside her, stroking, teasing, curling in a way that had her biting her lip to hold back a moan.

“Ashton—”

“Say my name again,” he growled, his mouth claiming hers as his fingers worked her relentlessly.

She obeyed, breathless, trembling beneath him. And just as she thought she couldn’t take anymore, he kissed her again—deep, consuming, leaving her breathless.

She had won this game.

Or maybe… maybe she had just lost.