Page 7 of Let it Sizzle
He nods like it’s nothing.
And I stand there, gripping a stack of napkins like it’s the only thing anchoring me to the ground, pretending I haven’t been thinking about her since the moment she said my name.
Byron stretches his arms behind his head, glancing toward the lot like he’s expecting her any second. “I think being home will be good for her.”
I nod.
“I still want to smash that guy’s face in.”
“Which guy?”
“That guy she was with in the city—he really did a number on her. She’s been through hell these last couple years,” his voice low, private.
I tense, jaw clenched so tight I can feel the muscle twitch. But I let him talk.
“Made her doubt herself. Shrink to fit his bullshit version of what he wanted her to be. I saw it happening in real time. The way she stopped talking about her art. The way she stopped smiling like she meant it. And I should’ve said more. I should’ve—” He exhales hard, rubs the back of his neck like the guilt still lives there. “But you know Serena. Stubborn as hell. Kept saying he wasn’t that bad.”
My hands curl tighter around the spatula. What I want to say?I would’ve driven down there and pulled her out myself if I’d known. No warning. No mercy. I’ve done it before.
“She finally left a few months ago,” Byron says. “Didn’t even tell him. Packed up and disappeared. I think she scared herself with how long she stayed. She’s still figuring herself out, but she’s getting there. She’s drawing again. Working. Trying.”
I nod once, still silent.
“She hasn’t figured out how to feel safe yet,” he adds quietly.
My throat works around the words stuck in it.She will.Because if I have anything to say about it, she’ll never feel unsafe again.
“She’s stronger than she thinks,” I say finally.
Byron nods, and for a second, I think maybe that’s the end of it. But then he adds, “And I think it’s better if she stays focused on her, you know? On rebuilding. Not getting caught up in another guy who’ll screw her up again.”
My chest tightens like a vise.
“Yeah,” I say. “Sure you’re right.”
He looks at me then. Straight-on. No bullshit. “And I know you’ll keep an eye on her. Like you always have.”
Those words hit me harder than they should. He means it like a brother would. Like I’m part of the family. Like I’m safe.
And he has no idea I’ve already broken that trust so many times in my head.
Because I want her. Not in the brotherly, protective way he thinks. Not anymore. I want her body under mine. Her legs wrapped around my waist. Her mouth gasping my name.
I want her like I’ve never wanted anyone.
So I nod, not trusting myself to speak. Because if I do, I might say too much. Might tell him I never stopped thinking about her. That I still see her as the girl I carried out of hell—and the woman who now haunts every goddamn second of my thoughts.
I look up, heart hammering. And there she is.
Serena.
Stepping onto the lot in a sundress that clings to her hips and dips low over that perfect, full chest. Hair pulled back with a red scarf, Samira by her side, sunlight hitting her skin like it was shining just for her.
Her eyes scan the crowd. And then they find mine.
And just like that—I’m fucking wrecked.
She’s… fuck. She’s unreal.
