Maddie's POV

I was completely trapped beneath his body, speechless. Breathless.
Having him this close left me defenseless once again. The scent of his freshly showered shampoo and the lingering trace of his cologne overwhelmed my senses. I bit my lower lip, letting my gaze drift to his partially unbuttoned shirt, exposing his chest.

I placed my right hand on his chest, sliding the tips of my fingers across it, feeling every pore of his skin, feeling the rapid beats of his heart under my touch. I raised my eyes, and once again, our gazes locked. We remained silent; the only sounds were our ragged breaths.

My fingers continued their journey across the skin of his chest, reaching his neck, caressing it gently. I traced the line of his jaw with my index finger, feeling the tension in his muscles. I followed the path along his skin until I reached his lips—those perfect, full lips.

My breathing quickened, and despite the cold, I couldn't stop feeling the heat coursing through me.

I gently traced his upper lip with my thumb, moving slowly, causing his mouth to part slightly. I could feel his breath, just as nervous as mine, and hear the faint growl he stifled deep in his throat. He leaned down, pressing his forehead against mine.

My index finger slid to the corner of his mouth, and I began to outline his lower lip sensually. My own lips parted, and our breaths began to mingle, each exhale blending into the other. Rising onto the tips of my toes to reach him, I pulled my finger away from his lips.

Then, with my tongue, I slowly traced the outline of his upper lip, then his lower one, savoring every moment, before crashing my lips into his in a careless, ravenous kiss.

It was utterly contradictory, but damn, how I craved to devour his lips again.
To feel his taste dissolve desperately inside my mouth. I placed my hands on the back of his neck, burying my fingers in his thick hair, returning his kiss with even more fury and need. After minutes of ravaging each other's lips, our mouths opened wider.

Our tongues intertwined, exploring, teasing, the heat between us rising steadily as faint moans escaped into each other's mouths. As we continued to feed on each other's lips and breaths, he pressed me even closer, completely merging his body with mine.

I felt his erection pressing against my pelvis as he began to move his hips, creating an intoxicating friction that sent waves of pleasure through me. My left wrist still throbbed with pain, but the desire burning inside me far outweighed it.

I slid my right hand into his hair, tangling my fingers to pull him fully into me. Kissing him passionately, I matched the rhythm of his hips with mine, intensifying the aching, delicious pleasure the friction of our centers created.

One of his hands trailed down my stomach, venturing lower until it reached the edge of my panties. In an instant, he tore through the delicate fabric with force, and I felt one of his fingers slide decisively inside me.

The sensation made me catch my breath, my body trembling as I fought to suppress a moan of pleasure. He stopped kissing me and locked eyes with mine, his gaze wild and filled with lust. He didn't stop touching me, his movements making it impossible to hold myself together—I was on the verge of falling apart in his hands.

"Don't hold back, redhead," he murmured in a deep voice, his lips grazing my ear sensually. "I want to hear you moan for me."

He left a bite on my earlobe before meeting my gaze once more. A second finger slid inside me, and I couldn't hold back any longer. Something inside me shattered, and I arched against him, moaning his name without even realizing it. Instinctively, my hips moved in sync with his hand, seeking to amplify the pleasure coursing through me.

As his fingers continued their relentless rhythm, he trailed wet kisses down my neck, his mouth descending to my breasts. His tongue swirled over them, teasing, before his teeth gently nipped at my sensitive skin, sending waves of ecstasy through me. I writhed beneath him, completely at his mercy.

I needed all of him, craved to lose myself entirely in his taste. Pulling him back toward me, I kissed him with unrestrained intensity. My tongue explored every corner of his mouth, probing and teasing as I took what I wanted.

His hand moved inside me with merciless precision, each motion more deliberate, more consuming. My moans came faster, louder, spilling from my lips only to be swallowed by his.

My right hand was uninjured, and it was all I needed to provoke Billy. My hand left the back of his neck and slid down to his chest. With my fingertips, I traced every inch of his perfectly sculpted abs, savoring the sensation as I worked my way down. On the way, I undid the buttons of his shirt, one by one, until I reached the edge of his pants.

Slipping my hand inside, I brushed against his erection over the fabric of his boxers, feeling the shiver that ran through him. Without breaking the fervent kiss devouring his full lips, I began slow, deliberate movements over his hardness—up and down, teasingly.

After a few moments, I heard a low, guttural groan escape from deep in his throat. He might have had the upper hand over me, but I knew how to take control of him too. A playful, triumphant smile formed on my lips as I pressed them back against his, hungrily claiming him again. At the same time, the movement of my hand grew more intense, pushing him further under my spell.

I was completely lost in him—his scent, his skin, his moans, his hair, his sweat. Lost in his pleasure and the overwhelming ecstasy he was stirring within me. I had no idea how many minutes had passed, but suddenly, Billy stopped and withdrew his fingers from me. A frustrated sigh escaped my lips; I had been so close to my climax.

He quickly stripped me of my shirt before crashing his lips onto mine again with an urgency that felt like the world might end. I matched his intensity, threading my fingers through his curls, pulling him closer. His hands gripped my back firmly, guiding me backward toward the deeper recesses of the locker room. Somewhere less exposed, should anyone walk in—like the sink counters.

My back met one of the countertops, and without hesitation, his hands slid down to my thighs and then my hips, grabbing hold of my glutes. He lifted me effortlessly, setting me down on the cool surface. With hurried, breathless movements, he pulled a condom from the back pocket of his jeans.

He stripped quickly, his movements unrelenting, and rolled the condom on with practiced speed, his gaze never leaving mine.

Our lips met again, but this time in a more calm way, enjoying the taste of our mouths with attention. I drew with my fingers the outline of one of his arms, tracing the path that leads from his hand to his neck, slowly and sensually. At the same time, he placed his hands on my knees, started to climb up and gently stroke the inside of my thighs until reaching my center.

He spread my legs, letting me see how wet I was. I was incredibly aroused, fully aware of how to get myself in the right mood, and felt like I would explode from the desperate need to feel him inside me if it didn't happen soon.

He pressed his hands on my hips to bring his pelvis closer to mine and, in an instant, he slipped into me. A shiver of pleasure swept through every inch of my being. I threw my head back, exhaling a slight groan as I felt his hips begin to swing. As soon as he began to move inside me, that was enough to lose the little sanity I had left. He sank his head into my collarbone, leaving a bite and choking a gasp. I wrapped my legs around his waist to join the rhythm of his movements.

I groaned again at the increase in the rhythm of his hips and in response he again emitted that almost guttural growl of pleasure. Hearing those loud moans was like music to my ears, I was too excited to know that I was the one who provoked them.

We kissed, letting our mouths take over. Erotically whispering our names. I wanted more and more, I couldn't get enough of it. So I leaned slightly back, leaning my shoulders against the mirror on the ledge, to give him more room to move and possess me as much as he wanted.

"Fuck. I hate you and I want you so much redhead. I'm going to make you cry with pleasure." He growled before leaning over me and sticking his teeth in my neck.

"I hate you, William. I hate you so much that I fuck up wanting you so much. Make me pieces -I groaned desperately.

We were both completely sweaty, burning with desire, letting ourselves be carried away by our most basic instincts and forgetting, if only for a moment, how wrong it was to do this in the eyes of society. It was wrong, but it felt deliciously right.

The only thought running through my mind at that moment was for him to make me his, over and over again. To hear him moan my name.Only my name.

His thrusts grew harder and faster with every passing moment. His lips trailed down my stomach once again, reaching my breasts and focusing his wet tongue on them. Kissing, licking, and leaving gentle bites on my hardened nipples, driving me completely insane. Our moans became more frequent and louder with each sensation.

After a few minutes, the rhythm of his hips turned utterly frantic, and I felt the last shred of sanity slipping away. I leaned forward, adding the motion of my pelvis to match the rhythm of his hips, while our mouths met once more in a desperate kiss. The collision of our bodies blended with the sound of our gasps—constant, louder, and completely uninhibited—filling the echoing emptiness of the locker room.

With a few final, powerful thrusts, he carefully tightened one hand around my neck and the other on the small of my back. His gaze locked with mine as he penetrated me with unrelenting intensity. At that moment, I completely lost my mind, surrendering entirely to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through me.

My legs began to tremble uncontrollably. I clenched tightly around his erection as I felt something deep in my lower abdomen about to explode. My entire body tensed, and I think I blacked out for a moment—those precious seconds when a massive orgasm ripped through me. I screamed his name, my nails digging into the wrist that was still wrapped around my neck.

Seconds after I reached my climax, he released my neck, delivering a few final, deep thrusts as his own orgasm overtook him. Every muscle in his body tightened as he came inside me. He leaned forward, burying his face in my neck, his fingers digging into my hips as he let out a deep, guttural growl of pleasure that carried my name.

We stayed connected for a few moments, our foreheads pressed together, as we tried to catch our breath. While I composed myself, countless thoughts raced through my mind, but the one that kept repeating was how I'd let myself lose control again and sleep with Billy. How could someone as infuriating as him make me lose control like this? This couldn't happen again. Ever.

Once he caught his breath, he pulled out of me and carefully removed the condom, wrapping it in a paper towel to ensure it wouldn't be discovered before tossing it in the trash. He slipped back into his boxers and jeans, then returned to help me down from the shelf. Though I wouldn't admit it, I was grateful—trying to get down on my own would've likely worsened the pain in my wrist.

"Get dressed. We need to go to the hospital," he said, avoiding eye contact as he walked out of the room.

"Ten minutes," I replied curtly.

I waited a few moments before heading to the locker area to get changed, making sure he wouldn't still be there. As soon as I went to change, I saw my torn panties on the floor. Great. Wonderful.

What an idiot.

Luckily, I had a spare pair in my backpack. Thank goodness—I didn't feel like going to the hospital without underwear because of my gorilla of a brother. I got dressed and clenched the inside of my cheeks to keep myself from screaming when I put on my shirt, making sure Billy didn't come back in.

Once I managed to get dressed, I slung my backpack over my shoulder. Before leaving, I stopped for a moment in front of the mirrors to fix my hair. I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe what I was seeing.

"Damn it!" I growled as soon as I looked in the mirror and saw two marks on my neck.

"What the hell is wrong with you now? Are we leaving or what? I'm sick of waiting," Billy mumbled from behind me.

"Nothing, idiot," I huffed, pulling the neckline of my sweater as far as possible to try and cover the marks. "Let's go. I just want to get this fixed and not see you for the rest of the day," I turned and gave him a disdainful look.

"This is as fun for me as it is for you, going to the hospital together, stupid," he scowled. "But there's no other choice, or Dad will break my face if he finds out I didn't do anything about that wrist."

"Fine, then we agree on wanting to stay away from each other," I smirked sarcastically. "Let's go before we have to put up with each other any longer."

I sighed and walked past him, giving him a slight shove with my shoulder as I brushed by.

I heard him mumble something, almost a growl, but I just ignored it. We got into the car and drove to the hospital in silence. The only sounds were the music from the radio, the screech of the tires, and my thoughts. My damn thoughts.

No matter how much I tried, I couldn't stop thinking about how stupid I'd been to fall for it again—to sleep with him. Billy was the last damn man I'd ever want to spend my life with. Even if he were the last man on the face of the earth. I hated him. I hated him more than I'd ever hated anyone.

And yet, you're dying for him to kiss you, touch you, whisper to you, caress you. And, above all, even though you know how to stand up for yourself, a part of you loves that he protects you.

We finally arrived at the hospital after one of the longest and most uncomfortable drives of my life. We went straight to the reception desk to fill out the emergency form. The only good thing about my mom being married to Neil, that vile man, was that we had health insurance. Thankfully, tonight's expenses would be covered.

We submitted the completed paperwork and waited quietly in the waiting room, smoking a cigarette in silence, until a nurse called me. Fortunately, the ER wasn't too crowded, so it didn't take long before we were escorted into one of the consultation rooms.

Inside, the doctor was already seated at a desk on one side of the room. He appeared to be in his sixties, partially bald, with a noticeable belly. At the back of the room was an examination table, and to its left, a long counter lined with various medical tools.

"Alright, Miss Mayfield, please have a seat on the examination table," he said, not looking up from the form I had filled out earlier, now in his hands.

"Sure," I responded lazily, complying with his instructions.

"And you are?" he asked, raising his head to glance at Billy over the rim of his glasses as he stood up.

"William Hargrove. I brought her straight from school—she had a nasty fall and hit the ground hard."

"You did the right thing; it's best to treat these kinds of injuries as soon as possible," the doctor said with a smile at Billy before walking over to me. "Let's see what we have here."

Damn it, I shouldn't have slept with him—we should have come straight here. That damn California golden boy of a stepbrother was starting to tear my life apart and turn everything upside down.

The doctor gently took my hand. He made a slight grimace, almost disapproving, as he noticed the swelling and the black-and-purple bruising beginning to form on my wrist. He pressed and prodded in various spots, and each touch sent a sharp jolt of pain shooting through me, making me click my tongue involuntarily.

"Despite the black discoloration, that's just from the impact, so there's no need to worry, Miss Mayfield," he said, releasing my wrist. "At first glance, it looks like the bone in your wrist is slightly displaced. Nothing serious—we'll just need to immobilize it. Still, we'll take a quick X-ray to make sure everything is alright."

"Alright, thank you," I said, relieved to hear that it wasn't anything too serious.

"Your boyfriend can wait here while we take the X-ray. It'll just take a moment," the doctor said, heading toward the door and motioning for me to follow.

"He's not my boyfriend. Gross," I replied instantly, pulling a face of disgust as I climbed down from the examination table.

"Even grosser for me that you'd think that, I assure you," Billy grumbled. "This idiot is my stepsister, not my girlfriend."

"Oh, well... What an unfortunate mix-up," the doctor said, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "Since you look about the same age and your last names are different, I assumed that coming in together meant..."

"Just drop it, Doctor," I sighed as I stepped off the table. "Let's just get this damn X-ray done so we can forget about it. I just want to go home and not see him for a few hours."

"Ah, I see you're not exactly the close-knit duo I thought you might be," the doctor remarked, raising an eyebrow at me.

"That's none of your business. Just hurry up, do your damn job, and we can get out of here," Billy snapped angrily. I noticed the doctor bristle at the comment, but I cut him off before he could reply.

"Don't bother responding, trust me," I said, rolling my eyes as I moved closer to the doctor. "Let's just get this X-ray done before my idiot brother screws things up with his big mouth," I added loudly.

"I can hear you, redhead."

"Good, that was the point, blondie," I shot back, turning to look at him and giving him a wink.

Billy's response was to flip me off with a sarcastic smile.

The doctor, hearing us, looked confused as he gestured for me to follow him. I couldn't blame the poor guy—our relationship must have seemed uncomfortable and hard to understand.

As soon as we entered, Billy spoke to the doctor with concern about my injury, and we both calmly entered the consultation room; now, we were practically throwing insults at each other again. So I completely understood the doctor's confused expression.

Anyway, I finally got the damn X-ray done. The doctor sent me back to the room where Billy was still waiting. He didn't even look at me, so we sat in complete silence, waiting for the doctor to bring the results. Luckily, it didn't take more than ten minutes. If it had taken any longer, knowing Billy and me, we probably would have been arguing by the time the doctor came back.

"Well, just as I thought, it's a dislocation," he said, placing the X-ray on a screen with a bright white light. He pointed to a tiny black line on my bone. "Still, there's a very small fracture from the impact. Nothing that can't heal with a cast for 15 days."

"Great. Damn Tina," I muttered to myself as the doctor began preparing everything needed to cast my hand.

"If you won't don't get back at her, I will," Billy whispered in my ear as he got closer. I shivered slightly. Why did that idiot have to have such a sexy voice?

"I can take care of myself, thanks," I replied, keeping my calm.

""Shame. I would've liked to give her what she deserves. Though, to be honest, nothing's stopping me," I heard a sound of amusement deep in his throat.

"Do whatever you want, you're going to do it anyway," I responded with indifference. But I couldn't lie to myself—I liked the thought that Billy put me ahead of everything else.

Finally, the doctor wrapped my wrist and prescribed some painkillers in case I felt too much discomfort during the first few days of rest.

Of course, I was banned from doing physical education for the next few days; the one class I was good at and enjoyed now had a 15-day ban. Great.

After receiving the final instructions from the doctor, Billy and I left the hospital in search of his Camaro, ready to head home. Once again, the awkward silence filled the car during the ride.

How could it not be awkward? Now we hated each other, now we slept together, now we detested each other, now we loved each other. What kind of messed-up minds did we have?

We managed to get home without saying a word, which was fine because every time we opened our mouths, it was to argue. We saw the front door just closing, and instantly, the porch lights turned on.

Neil and my mom had probably just arrived. We both got out of the car and went into the house. As soon as we opened the door, I saw Max with slightly glassy eyes, my mom completely pale, and Neil staring at us with eyes almost burning with fury.

"You! You worthless piece of crap!" Neil shouted as soon as we walked in. He lunged at Billy, grabbing him by the collar of his jacket and slamming him against the wall next to the door. "How many times do I have to repeat myself?"

"None..." Billy whispered, completely frozen.

"It seems I wasn't clear enough with you last time," Neil growled before delivering a hard slap across Billy's face.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!" I shouted, confused and furious at the slap. We had just arrived home—there was no way Billy could have done anything wrong.

"I told you to take care of your sisters like a good brother. What part of that don't you understand?" Neil added, his fury growing. Billy remained silent, his fists clenched at his sides, but he didn't say a word. "ANSWER ME, YOU PANSY!" Another slap landed on Billy's face, this time splitting his lip.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Neil? He just brought me back from the hospital, he was taking care of me!" I shouted, stepping forward to confront him, but Max, terrified, pulled me back to stop me.

"And what about Maxine? Who's looking after Maxine?" Neil yelled. "You let her come with just anyone when it's your damn responsibility as the older brother!" He struck Billy again.

"I... I told you, I came with Steve Harrington. A classmate of Maddie and Billy..." Max replied in a trembling voice, barely audible.

"Exactly! Steve is my friend, he's not just anyone. We left Max in good hands. So let go of Billy, damn it!" I shouted again.

Neil ignored me, and Max, continuing to berate Billy, hitting him every time the blonde remained silent and didn't respond. My mom was still in shock, not knowing what to say. Just like every damn time Neil hit Billy for senseless reasons. And I hated this particular situation because my mom had already met Steve, I didn't understand why she didn't say anything. But I had to do something—I couldn't keep watching those hits. Tears began to well up in Billy's eyes, and that was the last straw for me.

"Stop hitting him, damn it! Steve is my boyfriend!" I yelled, stepping in between them to keep Neil from landing another blow on Billy. I don't know why I said that, it was just the only thing that came to my mind in that moment. All I wanted was for the beating to stop. I'm an idiot, for sure.

"What did you say?" Finally, the son of a bitch stopped hitting Billy and turned his attention to me.

"Steve is my boyfriend. He's not just anyone," I replied calmly, positioning myself in front of Neil with Billy behind me.

At last, I had managed to stop the blows.

"Also, mom knows him. She knows he's a good guy. Say something, mom, please," I looked at her pleadingly, my eyes almost teary.

"Y-Yeah," my mom finally reacted. "I've met Steve a couple of times. Plus, Max speaks highly of him. He's a good guy and always takes care of Maddie and Maxine," she murmured.

"Mmmm... Fine," Neil relaxed his muscles and stepped back, moving away from me and Billy. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath of relief. "But you'd better not avoid your damn responsibilities again," he warned Billy, pointing a finger at him. Then he pointed it at me. "And as for you, I want to meet this Harrington and make sure he won't cross any lines with you. Bring him to dinner one night."

"Y-Yes..." Damn it. What the hell had I just gotten myself into now?

Neil didn't say anything else and went straight to the kitchen. The sound of a can opening echoed through the house, probably a beer. He was the most cynical and repulsive man I'd ever known.

After nearly beating his son senseless, he was now cracking open a beer like it was nothing. At that moment, Billy brushed past me, shoving me aside and storming to his room to lock himself in.

"What happened to your arm, sweetheart?" My mom's voice brought me back to reality.

"Not a damn word, mom. Thanks to Billy, it's nothing serious. And you, as always, just stood there, saying nothing while Neil kept hitting him," I shot her a glare.

"But Maddie, mom n—"

"Shut up, Maxine. Go do your homework or whatever you were doing. This conversation isn't for little girls like you," I snapped, now glaring at my sister.

"Do you know what? I'm not as little as you all think. This house is a shitshow!" Max yelled back.

"Exactly! That's why! Because it's a shitshow, get to your damn room!" I snapped, pointing toward the hallway leading to her room.

Reluctantly, Max disappeared from sight and slammed the door behind her.

"You've been really harsh with your sister, she's only thirteen..." my mom muttered.

"I don't give a damn if I've been harsh, mom. I don't care!" I growled, glaring at her. "And I haven't been harsh enough. You should've done the same when Neil came at Billy."

"But sweetheart..."

"No more buts, mom, I'm fed up. Fed up!" I raised my voice. After all, when Neil is with his beer and the TV, he doesn't notice what's going on ten feet away. "I don't want Max to see him hitting Billy too, do you understand? I've been watching him do it my entire damn life, and treating me badly too. And that's what has torn me and Billy apart. That damn man you call your husband has ruined our childhood and broken us like dolls! AND I WON'T LET HIM DO THE SAME TO MAX! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!"

"The situation isn't that simple for women, you know. At least Neil gives us a roof over our heads and..."

"What part of I don't care don't you get?" I yelled, filled with frustration. My voice cracked. Tears flooded my eyes and my face. "You should've protected me when I was a child!"

"Madeleine, please..." She came closer, but I stepped back.

"No, Mom. If you're not willing to do it, I will. But you need to react, now. I'm not a child anymore, and I'm fed up. I know you don't want me to report it, but I will. Sooner or later, I will."

"Don't do it, Madeleine," she said, looking at me pleadingly.

"If things don't change by the time summer comes, believe me, I will. I'll do everything I can to keep Maxine away from that bastard. And Billy and I will leave him behind. So, it's up to you what you do, Mom," I replied. She was about to say something, but I didn't give her the chance.

I turned and went straight to my room without looking back. Maybe I had been too harsh with my words, but the frustration and anger I had bottled up for years overwhelmed me. I needed to let it out.

I'd probably apologize later for being so tough, but I had to make her react. She needed to understand that living like this was no longer an option, and it was becoming less and less viable.

I had only been in my room for a few seconds when Billy's image, bruised and battered, appeared in my mind. He probably hadn't even thought about treating his wounds, and honestly, I felt almost indebted to him for taking me to the hospital.

And don't lie to yourself, you want to make sure he's okay. Because, even though you deny it, deep down, beneath all that hatred, you're starting to care for him.

I left my room and headed straight to the kitchen. Opening the freezer, I spotted a bag of peas and grabbed it—probably the best thing to help with the swelling. Next, I went to the bathroom to grab the first-aid kit for the cut on his lip. With everything in hand, I walked down the hall and stopped in front of Billy's door. Knowing his mood was likely awful, I figured it was best to knock first.

"Billy? Are you okay?" I called, giving the door a light tap.

"I'm fine. Go away."

"Can I come in?" I persisted, ignoring his brusque response.

"Are you deaf? I said, go away!"

"Come on, Billy. It'll only take a moment," I insisted again.

"Fine. Come in. You're going to do it anyway," he growled as the door opened. "Go ahead," he added, running a hand across his lower lip.

"I'm sorry about all of this, Billy, I really..." I stepped inside as he closed the door behind me.

"What do you want, Madeleine?" he grumbled, moving past me and sitting on the edge of his bed. "Look, for once, I don't feel like arguing, so if that's why you're here, just leave." He lowered his gaze, staring at the small drops of blood on his fingers from the cut on his lip.

"I'm not here to argue, William," I said, walking closer to him. "I just brought this for your black eye and something to clean up the cut." I held up the bag of frozen peas and placed the open first-aid kit on the bed next to him.

"Thanks," he replied flatly, showing no real emotion. He grabbed the bag of peas and pressed it against the small bruise near his right eye. "Thanks, Maddie..." This time, he looked at me.

His eyes were soft, tender, and for a brief moment, I swore my heart melted. Without thinking, I smiled at him like an idiot.

"May I?" I asked, pointing to a small piece of gauze. He nodded, setting the bag of frozen peas aside on the bed.

He shifted, spreading his legs slightly to give me more room. This let me get as close as possible. I dabbed some alcohol onto the gauze and brought it up to his lip to clean the wound. Gently, I brushed aside the curls falling across his face, my fingers grazing his forehead.

Billy drew in a sharp breath at the contact, his eyes locking on mine with an expression I couldn't quite read.

I placed my hand lightly under his chin, guiding his head back just enough to get a better view of the cut. Leaning in closer, I began carefully wiping away the dried blood.

He winced in pain, and I immediately pulled the gauze back.

"Sorry," I murmured. "Hang in there—it'll just take a second."

He didn't stop looking at me. His gaze was unwavering, deep, almost piercing, as if he could see straight into my soul. Once again, we were far too close. My heart began to pound relentlessly in my chest. Flashes of memories—his bare skin against mine, his lips devouring mine, his hands exploring every inch of my body—flooded my mind like waves crashing on the shore.

I swallowed hard, trying desperately to push those intrusive thoughts away and keep my composure. I tossed the gauze aside without care and grabbed a few adhesive wound closures from the kit. Carefully, I pressed two across the cut on his full lips, taking my time to ensure they were secured.

But the touch lingered. Those lips—just the thought of them—set my skin alight. I felt heat creeping up my cheeks, betraying the turmoil brewing inside.

No, not now, Madeleine. Not ever. I reminded myself, a promise I had sworn to keep.

As if sensing my internal battle, he seized the moment. His hands found their way to my waist, pulling me closer, erasing any remaining distance between us. A shiver ran down my spine as his touch ventured beneath my sweater, his fingers trailing over the bare skin of my back in slow, deliberate motions.

My hands, almost instinctively, traveled over his shoulders and up to his neck, finally settling on either side of his face. For a moment, the cast on my arm felt like an afterthought, utterly inconsequential. We stood there in a shared silence, breathing each other in, yearning evident in every gesture.

Before I could process the shift, he stood, towering over me as he pulled my sweater over my head in one smooth motion. His hands cradled my face as mine fell to his chest, where the rapid beating of his heart pulsed against my palms.

And then, it happened. Slowly, deliberately, he leaned in. His lips brushed against mine, the softest of touches, a fleeting whisper of contact. The light graze of his bottom lip against mine sent a jolt through my body, a quiet ignition of something we had both tried so hard to suppress.

He pulled back slightly, just enough for a small space to linger between us. Barely there. Our faces were so close that we were breathing in each other's air, the heat of our shared passion palpable, wrapping around us like an unspoken confession.

And then, that fleeting gap dissolved again, vanishing like smoke in the wind. The only thing left between us was a kiss. Soft and warm at first. Gentle, hesitant, as if testing the boundaries. The pain from his split lip made it tremble slightly, but it only added to its tenderness.

His hands slid lower, stopping at the small of my back, pulling me against him until there wasn't even the space of a breath between our bodies. My right hand instinctively buried itself in his gorgeous curls, tangling there as if I could anchor myself to him.

But suddenly, the kiss shifted, deepening with a new kind of hunger. It wasn't just tender anymore; it was ravenous, almost primal. He bit my lower lip, the sting sharp but intoxicating, sending a thrill down my spine.

Our mouths parted just enough for the kiss to intensify, and when our tongues met, the world seemed to tilt. The rhythm of it was deliberate, sensual, and filled with unspoken promises. He explored every inch of my mouth, as if memorizing me, feeding off my breaths, my sighs.

We gasped, the sound mingling with soft, almost involuntary moans, each one pulling us deeper into the magnetic pull we couldn't resist. The fire between us had fully ignited, consuming every thought, every doubt, until there was nothing left but him and me.

Stop it, Maddie. Just stop.

"Billy, please..." I placed my hands on his shoulders, gently pushing him away the moment I realized things were spiraling out of control again. "We need to talk, seriously," I said in a calm tone, trying to steady myself. "I think this—"

"This isn't about Steve, is it?" he cut me off abruptly, his words sharp.

"What? No, of course not. Stop being ridiculous. I'm trying to have an honest, serious conversation with you," I snapped, furrowing my brows as I took a step back, creating some distance between us.

"Are you seriously dating Harrington? Of all people? Couldn't you find someone less stupid for your first real relationship?" he scoffed, his irritation practically radiating off of him.

Was this seriously his response?

Unbelievable. For a second, I'd let myself believe everything he'd said, everything we'd done, was more than just impulse. That maybe, somehow, his kisses meant something deeper—despite knowing full well that whatever this was between us could never work. But no. Billy would always be Billy.

"Have you been screwing me while dating that moron?" His voice was harsh now, cutting like a blade.

"I can't believe you, Billy. Are you serious right now?" I asked, my disbelief making my tone sharper.

"Answer me. I'm not going to be someone's second choice," he said with a calm but firm intensity, his blue eyes fixed on me.

Second choice? Since when does he care about being my first choice? Better not to dwell on that if I didn't want to completely lose my mind.

"And you? Did you remember that Sandra's your girlfriend before or after screwing me like a madman? Or was it after kissing me just now like your life depended on it?" I snapped, my anger boiling over.

"That's not the same!" he shot back.

"It's exactly the same, you idiot. And for your information, I'm not dating Steve! I only said it because it was tearing me apart to see your father beating you, and I wanted to stop him!"

"No one asked for your help! And I don't want you with Harrington!" he repeated stubbornly.

"I'm NOT with him, you moron!" I shouted, pushing him away to create more distance. "Though maybe I should be, since all you do is screw things up again and again, you idiot!"

Okay, that was it. My mouth was running wild, and I was saying every ridiculous thing that came to mind.

"Maybe I wouldn't screw things up if you didn't keep acting like an idiot trying to make me jealous!" he fired back, immediately freezing as if realizing what he'd just said. His face turned pale. "Get out. I'm with Sandra. This won't happen again," he added, turning his back to me like a coward. "Just leave!"

"Gladly! And give Sandra my regards—I hope she satisfies you as much as I did!" I barked, storming to the door. "And next time, get Rita the singer to help you!"

Slamming the door behind me, I made sure it echoed loud enough to make my point. I stormed into my room and slammed my own door just as hard, throwing myself onto my bed face-down.

I'm an idiot. A massive, irredeemable idiot.

Why can't I stop falling into his hands, over and over again? He's an ass. A total ass.

But damn it. I'm screwed, because I like him.
I like him more than I'd ever admit.
I like him more than what's allowed.

Forget him, Madeleine. You need to forget him now. Before it goes any further.