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I was never concerned about what the one-night stands thought of me. I knew I’d never see them again. I never gave them a chance to really see me, just in case rejection was on the horizon.
Steffen pauses and looks at me. The anger in his eyes can’t be missed; it’s like a giant asteroid coming to obliterate every thought I have.
“No.” He answers so sternly that I flinch. “If a man takes what he wants, it’s called determination. Why should it have a different label for women? Take it, Rylan.”
“Take what?” I gaze at him from beneath my lashes.
“Whatever you want.” His voice carries that dark rasp. He exhales slowly, choosing his next words carefully. “You hook up with a stranger in a club, yet you deny me.”
“I have standards,” I tease.
“I want you.”
I look down to see him hardening again. “Feeling needy?” I taunt.
“Extremely.”
“Did you think I’d be easy?”
“No,” he replies with a firm spirit in his voice. “I knew you’d be the hardest challenge I ever faced.”
“Then why do you want me? Just to check a box?”
“I blame your mother for this.”
“For what?”
“For making you think you have nothing to offer,” he fumes. “You’re a queen. You have riches you can’t imagine, but the one thing I desire isn’t your body or submission.”
He dangles the bait and waits for me to bite. “What is it?” I ask.
His teeth sink into his lower lip. “My heart kept safe. You stole it. You own it. I want you to hold on to it and not throw it away,” he says, locking eyes with me. His stare is so intense, I drop my gaze. “Even if it’s in ruins, if the truth one day causes it to reek, I want you to hold on to it. Save it.”
You can’t just unload crap like that onto people, Steffen. I tip my chin up and gaze at the ceiling.
“You’re running again,” he mutters, annoyed. He turns and goes back to preparing our meal.
“Good thing you have the endurance to chase,” I mumble. “I need time to process.” I slap my hands on the countertop, and my legs begin to swing. The cool marble soothes my nerves.
Please, Rylan, if we dig into this, you’ll bolt. That’s our pattern. Rejection grows in us like a weed, its roots tangled tight around our soul, impossible to pull free.
What if I approach this like a hack? First, passive recon: watch the flow, observe, spot what’s left unguarded. Steffen and I have already crossed that checkpoint. Next, I’d map his defenses, hunt for entry points. His scars are vulnerabilities he’s let me glimpse, but the story behind them stays locked away.
Normally, I’d search for the next exploit. But his scars are just the surface. What secrets is he really hiding? Where’s the hidden back door I can slip through?
I usually treat every system as hostile, trust nothing, log every move. But with each encounter, Steffen offers more trust, more hope that I could be something better.
Maybe he isn’t just another locked-down system after all. Maybe he truly wants to help me rise.
“Should I be worried?” Steffen snorts a laugh. “You’ve gone silent.”
“I was processing again.” Truth is, I was hacking you. I twist my hair into a low bun. “I want you,” I confess, making myself vulnerable. “But maybe it’s only because you’re the first to chase me when everyone else just disappeared.”
The marble lines on the countertop catch his attention, as if they hold all the answers. He nods his head, but not easily. “Your reasoning makes sense, but our feelings for each other don’t follow logic.”
“We’re not a science experiment,” I quip.
“No,” he answers. He’s neither close nor far, just taunting me to reach out and strangle him… or do something worse, like kiss him. “We’re two humans who crave each other,” he adds with glee, like a kid licking a bowl clean of all the chocolate goodness.
