Tane

{Lorenna’s POV}

The afternoon sun drags me toward consciousness, its warmth pressing insistently against my closed eyelids.

Afternoon.

That alone tells me something has gone wrong.

I never sleep this late. Never stay anywhere long enough to wake slowly. And I definitely never wake up feeling… comfortable.

For a few blissful seconds, I stay still anyway, floating in the unfamiliar heaviness of rest. A steady heartbeat thudding beneath my cheek, slow and warm, and I frown faintly.

Heartbeat?

A deep, satisfied groan rumbles above my head.

My eyes snap open.

An unfamiliar ceiling. Soft sheets tangled around bare legs. And an arm — large, heavy, undeniably male — draped possessively across my waist.

I go very still.

Well… this is new.

Carefully, I tilt my head upward.

A large, muscular man lay beside me in the stranger’s bed, his arm wrapped securely around my waist. My head rests comfortably on his chest as we lay completely naked beneath thin sheets.

I can’t remember his name.

That should bother me.

It doesn’t.

What I do remember was how he‘d looked at me last night — like I was something rare he’d been searching for without realising it.

A dangerous memory.

Last night had been… intense. Addictive. Different.

And now, waking up like this—wrapped around someone, still held even in sleep— I’m surprised by how right it feels.

Heat radiates from his body, though it doesn’t affect me the way it would a human. Still… the way he’s holding me—tight, instinctive—I’m certain I would’ve melted if I were anything less.

His dark brown hair is a mess—entirely my fault. The night before, it had been neat. Controlled.

Now he looks like something else entirely.

Rougher.

More dangerous.

Better.

Light stubble shadows his jaw, and I remember exactly how it felt against my skin—rough in all the right ways.

I liked that.

I lift my head slightly, studying his face.

Even asleep, he looks powerful. Like stillness is unnatural for him. Like the moment he wakes, he’ll move—fast, decisive, dangerous.

There’s a faint crease between his brows, like he’s fighting something even in his sleep.

And for a brief, ridiculous moment—

I wonder what.

Last night flickers through my mind in fragments.

Heat.

Hands.

The way he took control like it was second nature—but still watched me like I mattered.

He had taken me like no one before.

From the bar… to the taxi… to his house—

We didn’t even make it to the bedroom the first time.

A faint smile tugs at my lips.

Was it him making me feel like that… or just the alcohol?

Either way—

I didn’t want it to end.

And it didn’t.

Not until the sun came up.

Now that I’m looking at him with a clear head, I can see how unfairly handsome he is. Almost unreal. Literally a dream to look at.

I know I should leave before he wakes. That’s the rule.

No attachments. No complications.

Still… a large part of me — a very large part — considers staying just a little longer.

My fingers twitch with the urge to trace the scar across his chest again.

Bad idea, I remind myself.

Carefully — very carefully — I slip free from his hold. The moment I try to move, his arm tightens.

Not enough to trap me.

But enough to stop me.

A low sound leaves him. Not quite a word. Not quite a growl.

My entire body stills.

His hand flexes against my waist.

Holding.

Keeping.

That’s… new.

I wait. One second, then two.

Then slowly, gently, I ease myself free.

This time, his grip loosens.

But the moment I slip away completely his body tenses. His hand moves across the bed, searching for me.

My chest tightens.

I don’t like that at all.

I dissolve from the mattress and reappear silently at the foot of the bed.

Old reflex. Effortless.

Still, I glance back to make sure he hasn’t stirred.

He hasn’t.

Good.

But his brow is deeper now.

His body restless.

His hand still curled slightly into the empty space where I’d been.

He‘s sprawled across the bed, sheets barely covering him, feet hanging slightly over the edge. Even asleep, he looks powerful — the kind of man built for motion, for conflict, for surviving things most people wouldn’t.

My gaze lingers longer than necessary.

Annoying.

I bite my lip, shaking the thought away as I gather my discarded clothes.

One night. That‘s all this had been.

That’s all it was ever supposed to be.

Dressing in the living room, I take in my surroundings properly for the first time.

The small house feels… lived-in.

Warm.

Wooden furniture. Layered rugs. Blankets thrown over a worn sofa. It’s not polished or perfect—but it feels real.

Comforting, in a way I don’t have time to think about.

I hadn’t noticed a single detail last night.

Not that it matters.

It’s not like I’ll ever see it again.

I pull the door open and nearly walk straight into another man.

He’s tall. Dark-haired. Clean-shaven. Familiar enough that I recognise him from the bar.

His eyes widen slightly as he takes me in. Shoes in hand. Hair a mess. Clearly leaving.

“Hi,” I say casually, offering a small smile. “He’s still asleep. Bye.”

I don’t wait for a response.

I walk straight past him, down the driveway, not looking back.

I hear him mutter something—probably confusion, maybe amusement—before heading inside.

The second the door closes behind him, I disappear.

I transport myself straight back to the hotel room.

Lucina lay sprawled across the bed, a different man tangled between her legs.

Both naked.

Both snoring.

Shaking my head, I head straight for the shower, deciding to let her wake up naturally before she inevitably throws him out.

Despite the satisfaction still humming faintly through my body, one irritation lingers.

I’ve completely missed breakfast.

—

Lucina sits across from me in the diner with her eyes squeezed shut, clutching her coffee like it’s the only thing keeping her alive.

“Last night was one big blur,” she murmurs. “A beautiful, intense, magnificent blur.”

“Hmm,” I say, taking another bite of my lunch, completely unaffected. “That it was.”

She groans.

“He was so eager to please. So much energy. Like the little engine that could…” She pauses. “…except he didn’t. I didn’t c*m once.”

I snort.

“Still,” she continues, lifting her head just enough to glare at me, “it felt good having a man between my legs. I finished the job myself when he passed out.”

“Can’t relate,” I reply, entirely too pleased with myself. “My job was finished multiple times.”

She looks ready to murder me.

“Sometimes I hate you.”

“Valid.”

“Why couldn’t my guy be like that? And why don’t you ever suffer like the rest of us?” She groans again, dropping her head back onto the table. “Happy birthday, by the way.”

“My birthday’s tomorrow.”

“Oh—sh*t.” She squints at me. “Well, you’ve already had my present. You wouldn’t have gone home with him if I hadn’t pushed you, so… you’re welcome.”

She winks.

She’s not wrong.

I’m usually gone before anything—or anyone—can matter. Hotels, towns, faces… they all blur together eventually. I don’t stay. I don’t get attached.

But last night—

I shake the thought away.

“You definitely helped,” I admit. “More coffee?”

Lucina nods weakly, pressing her forehead to the table like she might die there.

I stand and head to the counter. The waitress appears quickly, smiling as she takes my order. While I wait, I scan the menu, debating which pie to try—

The bell above the door rings and something shifts.

Not the room.

Me.

I turn and there he is.

The man from last night.

Everything else fades.

Then something deeper—warmer—settles low in my chest before I can stop it.

This makes absolutely no sense.

He looks… off.

Tense.

Like something’s not sitting right under his skin.

His friends guide him away before I can speak.

And just like that, the moment is gone.

I shouldn’t care.

I really shouldn’t.

Then a whistle cuts through the diner and I turn to find a group of men by the window, all eyes on me.

Instantly irritating.

“Hey, sweetness,” one calls, patting his thigh. “Why don’t you come sit on Daddy’s lap? With an arse like that, you’ll be sitting on something hard soon.”

I’m not denying that my arse does look good in these jeans.

In the corner of my eye, something moves fast.

Someone stands.

Angry.

Ugh... I don’t need saving.

“What exactly will be getting hard?” I ask sweetly, tilting my head.

“You are adorable.” He grins. “My d*ck, sweetness.”

“Oh,” I say thoughtfully, squinting at his crotch. “Like a c*ck… but smaller?”

Lucina bursts into laughter behind me.

A hand slams onto their table and the entire group flinches.

I glance over to see my one night stand.

He towers over them, completely still—but there’s nothing calm about him. His fists are clenched. His jaw tight. His eyes locked forward with something dark and controlled.

Not just anger.

Possession.

“Leave,” he growls.

Two identical men sit at his table, both grinning like they’ve just witnessed the best thing all week.

One of them (the louder one) lifts his hand and gives the guy an exaggerated, enthusiastic wave.“Yeah—bye, mate! Good luck with that!”

The other leans back in his chair, smirking.“Hope it works out for you.”

The man’s face drains of colour as a few people nearby start snickering.

Lucina completely loses it, clutching her head and wheezing through laughter. “Oh my god—”

I bite back a smile.

The man scrambles up instantly, face burning red, his friends laughing as he stumbles out.

The tension lingers.

The waitress rushes over to me. “Are you okay?”

I shrug. “I’m fine.”

She leans closer, lowering her voice. “The big one’s Tane. They don’t usually talk to anyone. People here… avoid them. I’d be careful around them if I were you.”

I glance back at him.

I don’t feel intimidated.

If anything I feel pulled.

I do like a bad boy. 

“I can handle myself,” I say, picking up the coffees.

“Good girl,” she smiles quickly, then disappears.

Tane approaches before I even reach the table.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

His hand lifts, brushing a strand of hair from my face.

He lingers, just slightly, like he’s checking I’m real.

I smile. “I’m fine. That was kind of you… but unnecessary.”

Something in him eases at my voice.

“I saw that,” he says, a hint of amusement breaking through. “Nice joke.”

“Thank you.”

“Mind if I steal it?”

I shrug, distracted by the way his lips curve. “Not sure how you’d use it.”

I wonder if he would mind having just one more night together... 

“I’ll find a way.”

His gaze lingers.

Mine probably does too.

He licks his bottom lip and smirks as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking.

“I’m Lorenna,” I say.

The name slips out before I can stop it.

I don’t do that.

I don’t give real names.

But something about him—

“Right,” he says, like he’s committing it to memory. “I’m Tane. Can I join you?”

“Not today,” I reply easily. “I’m with her. You’re with them. Another time, maybe.”

Disappointment flickers across his face.

It’s gone just as quickly.

“Okay,” he says, walking me back to the table anyway. “I’ll be right over there if you change your mind.”

I glance back as he leaves.

He keeps looking at me.

Not subtle.

Not even trying to be.

Lucina groans.

“Luce,” I say, sitting down, “just heal it.”

“Don’t you think I’ve tried?” she mutters. “That potion was too strong. I’m dying.”

“Dramatic.”

“You’re flirting with Hercules over there while I suffer. I really f*ck*ng hate you sometimes.”

I laugh. “Thanks… I think.”

But I feel it again.

That pull.

His attention on my back, his gaze on my skin.

Steady.

Constant.

As we get up to leave, I glance back and give him a small wave. The three men he’s with all wave back.

Childish.

Unapologetic.

I can’t help it—

I smile.

Tane moves immediately and follows us outside.

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” he asks, taking my hands carefully—like I might disappear.

I hesitate.

Not because I want to say no.

Because saying yes feels like stepping into something I won’t be able to walk away from.

Lucina elbows me hard. “Say yes,” she whispers.

I exhale slowly.

“Okay,” I say. “Yes. I’d like that.”

His smile is instant.

Real.

Bright.

“I’m staying at the hotel on Upper Fifth,” I add. “Six?”

“I’ll be there.”

He hands me a napkin with his number, then reluctantly walks back inside.

I watch him go.

And for a moment I don’t recognise myself, because I don’t do this.

I don’t stay.

I don’t care.

So why does this feel like something just changed?

{Tane’s POV}

I wake to an empty bed and Jason looming over me like a damn stalker.

I jerk upright, heart hammering.

For a second, I don’t understand what’s wrong.

Then it hits me.

Her.

The woman from last night, the one I brought home.

The one I spent the entire night devouring.

The bed is cold and empty.

I drag a hand through my hair, scanning the room like she might still be here—like I somehow missed her.

I didn’t.

She’s gone.

Something low and sharp twists in my chest and I don’t like it.

Jason is still standing there, watching me like he’s waiting for something dramatic.

“Morning,” he says.

I glare at him. “I would’ve preferred waking up to her instead of your stupid face.”

He snorts. “Charming.”

I ignore him.

Her scent is still everywhere.

On me.

On the sheets.

In the air.

Peaches and dark chocolate.

Sweet.

Warm.

Addictive.