Page 201 of Bound By Her

The words slipped out before she could stop them. She felt warm and cold all at once.

Bryson smiled.

Not the cocky grin or smug smirk she was used to. A real smile. Small. Genuine. It softened something in her.

Loretta had said they should talk. And there was so much she could say—but the moment felt too perfect to ruin with words. For now, she wanted to be just two people sharing ice cream under moonlight.

Adria sucked the last bit of sweetness off her spoon. The soft clink of metal against the bowl echoed in the quiet room.

“Seconds?” Bryson asked.

The question hit her somewhere tender. He didn’t want it to end either.

“I’ll get this round,” she said, hopping off the counter.

Reaching into the freezer, she said, “You are not who I thought you were.”

And when she shut the door, she saw she had his attention.

“I mean you are,” she said, scooping the ice cream. “But then you aren’t.”

She waited, and when he didn’t say anything, she continued, “I guess it’s hard to see the good in people when you are surrounded by so much bad.”

He took the bowl she offered, but not before she caught the way his Adam’s apple bobbed—like the words had landed somewhere deep.

Climbing onto the counter again, Adria tucked her knees to her chest.

“You’re exactly like I thought you’d be,” Bryson said.

The ache bloomed in her chest. She blinked fast, refusing to let tears rise. This had been a mistake. Ice cream and moonlight—what had she expected?

“You’re strong. Stubborn. Dangerously beautiful,” he continued, hazel eyes steady on hers. “And impossible to say no to.”

She laughed, sharp and unexpected. “You didnotthink that.”

He raised a hand, forming a crooked cross over his chest. “Swear. I mean, maybe in a slightly different context, but the cliff notes line up.”

Adria arched a brow. “Let me guess—you thought I was a soul-sucking succubus who devoured men in the dead of night?”

Bryson grinned. “More or less.”

Adria leaned her head against the wall, looking at him fully.

“I never got a chance to thank you properly for what you did for me after—” She couldn’t bring herself to say it.

Jonathan.

The unsaid name hung between them.

“I know what he did to you.” Bryson’s eyes were like fire when he met hers.

She shook her head. No, he only knew about that one night.

“Adria, I saw the picture,” Bryson said, leaving no doubt what he was referring to.

“He’s not in the picture,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

“The way he looks at you, how you are,” he said, his voice pained. “I put it together.”

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