The remnants of their time together in the garden lingered between them, a silent understanding that neither dared to put into words. The morning after, Vivie found herself still lost in the warmth of their moments—the stolen kisses, the heated touches, the way Ashton had let himself go, even if just for a little while.

She had expected him to pull away by now. To retreat into that stoic, impenetrable mask he so often wore. But instead, he lingered.

As she sat at the breakfast table, stirring her tea absentmindedly, she could feel his gaze on her. When she dared to glance up, he was watching her, his expression unreadable, but something in his eyes was different. Softer. Curious.

“You’re staring,” she murmured, a teasing lilt in her voice.

Ashton leaned back in his chair, taking a sip of his coffee. “You talk a lot when you’re comfortable.”

Vivie blinked. “That’s not an answer.”

A smirk played at his lips, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he stood, walking toward her with that slow, confident stride that sent her heart racing. He pulled out the chair beside hers and sat, too close, his knee brushing against her thigh beneath the table.

Her breath hitched.

“Keep talking,” he said, tilting his head slightly. “I like listening to you.”

Vivie swallowed, her fingers tightening around her teacup. She wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Instead, she let her thoughts spill out, the way they often did when she was around him.

“You’re unpredictable,” she muttered. “One moment you’re shutting me out, and the next, you’re…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “I don’t understand you.”

His fingers brushed against her wrist, just barely. A simple, fleeting touch that sent a shiver up her spine. “Maybe you don’t have to.”

She inhaled deeply, steadying herself. “Maybe I want to.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The weight of her words settled between them, heavy and unspoken. Then, just as she thought he might pull away, Ashton reached for her chin, tilting her face toward his.

“Be careful what you wish for, Vivie.”

And then, just like that, he was gone, rising from his seat and disappearing into his study as if the moment had never happened.

The afternoon stretched on, and Vivie found herself searching for excuses to be near him. She didn’t know why she craved his attention so much—maybe it was the way he looked at her when he thought she wasn’t watching. Maybe it was the way he touched her, fleeting yet deliberate. Or maybe it was just the way he made her feel like she was walking a tightrope, always teetering on the edge of something dangerous.

So when she found herself in the library, her fingers trailing over the spines of books, she wasn’t surprised when she felt him behind her before he even spoke.

“You’re following me.”

She turned, arching a brow. “You wish.”

Ashton smirked, stepping closer, his hand bracing against the shelf beside her. “You’re not very subtle, Vivie.”

She lifted her chin defiantly. “Maybe I don’t want to be.”

Something flickered in his eyes, something dark and amused. “Is that so?”

She nodded, her pulse quickening as he leaned in, his breath fanning against her cheek. “You’ve been avoiding me all day,” she whispered. “And now you’re cornering me in a library?”

He chuckled, low and husky. “I never said I was avoiding you.”

Her breath hitched as his fingers brushed against her waist, barely there, but enough to send a rush of heat through her. He was teasing her, toying with her, and she wasn’t sure whether she wanted to push him away or pull him closer.

“You do this a lot,” she murmured. “You get close, then you pull away.”

Ashton’s gaze darkened. “And yet, you still chase.”

She swallowed, suddenly feeling breathless. “Maybe I’m tired of chasing.”

For a moment, he said nothing. Just watched her, studied her, as if trying to figure out what to do next. And then, without warning, he pulled her flush against him, his fingers tangling in her hair as he kissed her—deep, slow, consuming.

Vivie melted into him, her hands gripping his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer. His lips were demanding, his touch firm yet teasing as he traced his fingers along the curve of her spine. He was unraveling her, piece by piece, and she let him.

A soft moan escaped her as he pressed her back against the bookshelf, his hands exploring, teasing, making her tremble beneath his touch.

“Ashton…” she breathed against his lips.

He growled, his grip tightening. “Say my name again.”

She obeyed, her voice barely a whisper as he kissed her again, deeper this time, his hands sliding lower, pressing against the heat pooling between her thighs.

Her mind blurred, her body arching into him, desperate for more.

And just as suddenly as it had started, he pulled back, his breath ragged, his lips swollen from their kiss. He rested his forehead against hers, his hands still gripping her waist as he exhaled heavily.

“You drive me insane,” he muttered.

Vivie let out a breathless laugh. “Good.”

He chuckled, shaking his head before pressing a soft kiss to her temple. “We’re going to regret this.”

“Maybe,” she admitted. “But not tonight.”

He studied her for a long moment, then smirked. “No, not tonight.”

And with that, he claimed her lips once more, sealing their fate in a kiss that neither of them wanted to end.