POV Bella
Morning light filters through Ajax's bedroom windows like an accusation, and I wake to find myself wrapped in his arms, his chest pressed against my back, his breath warm on my neck.
Reality crashes down with brutal efficiency—I'd lied to Zane about staying at Camila's, and now I have no idea how to explain this reconciliation to anyone, including myself.
Can earth-shattering sex really erase betrayal? The question hangs in the air.
But as Ajax's arms tighten around me in sleep, pulling me deeper into his warmth, I realize I don't care about logic or reason anymore.
I want this—want him, want the waltz we've practiced until our bodies move like one, want more nights on his motorcycle with the wind tearing through my hair, want everything we can squeeze into whatever time I have left.
He stirs behind me, and I feel his smile against my shoulder before I see it.
"Morning, starlight," he murmurs, voice rough with sleep, and my traitorous heart skips like it's forgotten how to beat properly.
I turn in his arms to face him, drinking in the sight of his tousled hair, the way morning light catches the sharp angles of his face. "We need to talk about what this is."
"What it's always been," he replies without hesitation, his green eyes meeting mine directly. "Love. Completely fucked up and kinda toxic, but love."
The brutal honesty makes me laugh despite everything coursing through my system. "That's your romantic declaration?"
"Would you prefer pretty lies?" His thumb traces my cheekbone with devastating gentleness. "We're a disaster together, Bella. A dying girl and a reckless boy who started with a bet and ended with something neither of us can walk away from."
"When you put it like that, we sound insane."
"We are insane." He grins, and it transforms his entire face. "That's what makes it perfect."
I study his expression, searching for cracks in his certainty, but find none.
"I want to reschedule dinner with my parents for next Friday," he says, tracing patterns on my bare shoulder that send electricity shooting down my arm. "If you'll come. I need them to meet you properly."
The earnestness in his voice makes my chest ache. "Ajax—"
"We don't know how much time I have," I start, the words falling between us like stones.
"Then we don't waste any of it," he cuts me off, his voice carrying steel beneath the tenderness. "No more hiding, no more pretending this doesn't matter. I want them to see what you mean to me."
His certainty is intoxicating and terrifying in equal measure.
"There's a race Wednesday night," he continues, his fingers never stopping their gentle exploration. "Serious competition, dangerous stakes. The kind of underground event that makes my sponsors nervous."
"Ajax, you can't be serious about racing right now—"
"Will you come watch?" The question stops my protest cold.
I imagine facing Jake and Laila and the others who laughed about the bet, who turned my pain into entertainment. My stomach lurches violently. "I can't see them. Not yet."
His expression softens immediately. "I understand. What about your family instead? Zane probably wants to murder me with his bare hands."
"That's putting it mildly." I can picture my brother's face when he learns about this reconciliation. "We could do dinner at my house too. Show them you're serious about us."
"Name the day," he agrees immediately, and I marvel at how we've gone from yesterday's explosive confrontation to planning family dinners like we're normal people instead of a catastrophe waiting to happen.
"Do you have your suit for the waltz?" I ask, desperate to shift to safer ground.
"Starlight, have you seen my family?" His grin turns wicked. "I own more suits than leather jackets. Sometimes rebellion requires formal wear."
His joke makes me laugh, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep and genuine. I realize how much I've missed this—the easy banter, the way he makes me feel normal instead of fragile, like I'm a person instead of a diagnosis.
"What do you want to do today?" he asks, pulling me closer until there's no space left between us.
"Just this," I say, my hands finding the strong line of his shoulders. "Just be with you."
"No pills to take? No doctors to see? No perfect daughter duties to perform?"
"I took my medication while you were still sleeping," I admit. "But otherwise? No. Today is just ours."
His smile could power entire cities. "Then we're staying right here."
"What about food?"
"I'll order something. What about your brother? Won't he worry?"
"Let him worry," I say, surprised by my own defiance. "I'm tired of living my life around everyone else's fear."
"There's my rebellious girl," Ajax murmurs against my throat, pressing a kiss that makes my pulse flutter dangerously.
We spend the morning in a carefully constructed bubble of denial, pretending the outside world doesn't exist.
Just two people in love, stealing whatever happiness they can find in the space between heartbeats.
"Tell me something true," I say as we lie tangled in his sheets, the afternoon sun painting golden rectangles across his skin.
"I never believed in forever until I met you," he says without hesitation. "And now I'm terrified it won't be long enough."
The words should scare me, should remind me of all the reasons this is impossible. Instead, they feel like the most honest thing anyone has ever said to me.
"Then we make it count," I whisper against his chest, feeling his heart beat strong and steady beneath my cheek.
"Promise me something," he says, his arms tightening around me.
"Anything."
"Promise me you won't disappear on me again. No matter how scared you get, no matter what anyone says—you come to me first."
I lift my head to meet his eyes, seeing the vulnerability he's trying to hide. "I promise."
"Good." He pulls me up for a kiss that tastes like promises and rebellion and the kind of love that doesn't ask permission. "Because I'm not letting you go again."
And lying there in his arms, I believe him completely.