Page 68 of Dreams and Desires

“Hey.” The word drifts out soft, ragged with exhaustion. “It’s okay. I’m out.”

Tears prick at my eyes, and I pull back just enough to look up at him, searching his face for any sign that he’s hurt or upset. “But... how? What happened? They said—“

Zade smiles. "My company pulled some strings," he shrugs, casual, like getting out of jail's just another Tuesday for him. "I'm good. Don't worry about it."

“No need to worry?” I repeat, my voice rising with disbelief. “They arrested you, Zade! They put you in handcuffs and took you away like... like some criminal! And you’re just standing here like it’s nothing?”

He shrugs, grin crooked. “Punch a mayor, earn a set of handcuffs—go figure.”

I glare at him, even as relief continues to flood through me. “That’s not funny, Zade. You could’ve been stuck in there. What if your company hadn’t pulled those strings? What if—”

He cuts me off with a soft chuckle, pulling me closer and resting his forehead against mine. “Juniper, you’re overthinking this. I’m out. Everything’s fine.”

“No, it’s not fine!” I protest. “You can’t just punch people, especially the mayor, and act like it’s no big deal!”

Zade leans back a bit, face going softer as he brushes a tear off my cheek. "He deserved it," he says under his breath, but there's something fierce behind it—he definitely means it. "If I'd known you'd get this worked up over me, I'd have punched that asshole way sooner."

I open my mouth to argue, to tell him how reckless and stupid he’s being, but the words die on my lips. Because he’s right. I do care. Maybe more than I want to admit. I let out a shaky breath and hug him again, tighter this time, like if I hold on tight enough, I can keep him safe from everything, including himself.

Zade’s arms wrap around me, holding me close, and for a moment, the chaos of the last twenty-four hours melts away. It’s just us standing in the middle of the police station, but it feels like we’re in our own little world.

“Thank you for coming here,” he murmurs against my hair. “And for fighting for me. It was... hot.”

I pull back slightly, just enough to see his face, and roll my eyes even as a small smile tugs at my lips. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Guilty as charged,” he quips, that familiar teasing glimmer returning to his eyes.

For a second, I just look at him. I don’t move. I don’t speak. He drives me nuts half the time, but somehow, standing this close... I don’t feel on edge. I feel like I can breathe. And in that moment, I realize something. Zade may be impossible and infuriating, but he’s also mine. Whether I like it or not, he’s gotten under my skin, and I can’t ignore it.

And maybe—just maybe—I don’t want to.

We finally pull apart, and I wipe the last of the tears from my eyes, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “So, what happens now?”

“Well, I’ve been told to keep my distance from the mayor,” Zade says with a smirk, “and to avoid getting into any more ‘altercations.’“

“I think that’s good advice,” I reply dryly, though I can’t help but smile.

As we step outside, I breathe in the morning air, feeling like I can finally exhale after holding my breath for so long. I glance at Zade, taking in the way his shoulders seem lighter. It’s a relief to see him like this, even if it’s only for a moment.

“I was serious, you know,” he says suddenly. “Seeing you stand up for me like that... It meant a lot.”

I look up at him, my heart doing that annoying, fluttery thing again. “You stood up for me first.”

“Yeah, well,” he shrugs, a smirk playing on his lips. “I guess we make a good team then.”

When we get to the car, Zade opens the door for me with a flourish, bowing like some cheesy knight from a movie. “Your chariot awaits, my lady.”

I laugh, rolling my eyes at his theatrics, but there’s no denying the warmth that spreads through me at his playful gesture. “You’re such a dork.”

“But you love it,” he shoots back, winking at me as I climb into the car.

Just as I settle into the passenger seat, I hear voices behind us. I turn to see a group of townspeople gathered, their expressions etched with disdain.

“Hey, look! It’s the sellout and the—“ one of them jeers, but hesitates before finishing the insult. Another person pipes up, less hesitant.

“Hey, Juniper! How does it feel knowing Zade’s just using you? He’s still building that fancy resort in our town, and you’re okay with it?”

My face falls, the warm glow from our moment together snuffed out by their harsh words. Zade, who had been about to close my door, straightens up and turns to face them.

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