Page 136 of Shots & Echoes

“No, we’re not!” My hand slammed against the boards beside her, the sharp crack slicing through the empty locker room like a gunshot. Loud. Violent. Final.

She flinched—but she didn’t back down.

Not because she was afraid of me.

She was afraidforme.

“If this blows up, you don’t get that jersey, Iris,” I ground out, my voice low and edged with something rough, something close to desperation. “You don’t get anything.”

Her breath hitched, but I wasn’t finished. I leaned in closer, dropping my voice to something darker, something raw.

“Because I touched you.” I exhaled sharply, feeling every inch of restraint unravel between us. “Because I couldn’t fucking stay away.”

Her eyes flashed with something unreadable before she moved—quick and decisive, fingers wrapping around my wrist, tight enough that I could feel her pulse hammering against my skin.

Defiant. Fierce.Mine.

“Don’t you dare put this on yourself.” Her words cut through the tension like a blade, sharp and unwavering, stripping me bare. “I chose this. I choose you.”

The words landed between us like a lit match, striking the gasoline that had been pooling for weeks.

My body locked up, my breath stalled, because—fuck.

She meant it.

She had no idea how deep this ran, how much worse it could get, how easily I could ruin her.

I wanted to shake her—to make her see what this meant, what I was—but instead, I stood there, trapped in the gravity of her words.

Four little words that wrecked me.

Four little words that told me it was already too late.

She had chosen me. And now?

Now, I had to decide if I was strong enough to walk away—or too far gone to even try.

Her words hit like a gut punch, ripping through the carefully built walls I had around me. She chose me.

And fuck, I wanted to believe that. Wanted to let it sink into my bones and settle there like it belonged. But it didn’t. Not with the weight of everything I was dragging behind me.

I was too reckless. Too dangerous. The kind of man who ruined everything he touched.

But even as that thought clawed at my insides, my body betrayed me, moving toward her like she was the only thing tethering me to this world. Because she was.

Every time we fought, every time I tried to push her away, we snapped back together like a fucking collision—violent, inevitable, leaving nothing but wreckage in our wake.

With hands.

With teeth.

With skin.

Before I could stop myself, I grabbed her—rough, desperate, possessive. I backed her into the wall, lifting her without a second thought, like she weighed nothing to me—when the truth was, she was the heaviest thing I’d ever carried.

“Knox,” she gasped, her breath catching as her hands fisted in my shirt. Wide eyes, parted lips—shock and need tangled together.

“Shut up.” It came out raw, barely human, more of a growl than words.

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