The Taste of Trouble

I told myself I wouldn't text him.

I wouldn't check my phone. I wouldn't wonder where he was, what he was doing, if he was thinking about me as much as I was thinking about him.

But the truth?

Ethan Carter was in my bloodstream.

And no matter how much I tried to fight it, I couldn't seem to get him out.

It had been two days since I walked away from him.

Two days since I told myself I was done.

And yet, every part of me ached to go back.

To see him.

To touch him.

To let myself fall into the fire I knew would consume me whole.

But I couldn't.

I wouldn't.

Because the thing about Ethan and me?

We were nothing more than a vicious cycle.

A never-ending push and pull.

And I didn't know how much longer I could keep up.

I lasted four hours.

That was it.

Four hours before I found myself walking toward the one place I swore I'd avoid.

The fight gym.

I told myself I was just passing by.

That I was only here out of curiosity.

That it had nothing to do with him.

But when I stepped inside and saw Ethan, sweat-slicked, fists wrapped, body tense with something I recognized all too well…

I knew.

I was lying to myself.

He didn't see me at first.

Didn't notice me standing there, caught between wanting to run and wanting to stay.

But the second he did?

The second our eyes met?

The air crackled.

Because no matter how much we fought this—

It would never go away.

Ethan wiped sweat from his forehead, his gaze locked on mine.

"Didn't think I'd see you here."

I swallowed. "Neither did I."

A slow, almost dangerous smirk tugged at his lips. "Guess you missed me."

I rolled my eyes, shoving down the heat creeping up my neck. "You wish."

But the problem?

He wasn't wrong.

I did.

I missed him like hell.

Ethan dropped his wraps and strode toward me, every step calculated, deliberate.

And I hated how my heart betrayed me.

How it picked up speed the closer he got.

How my fingers itched to touch him.

To feel what I shouldn't want to feel.

But I had to be strong.

I had to end this cycle.

Because if I didn't?

I knew I'd never escape.

Ethan stopped in front of me, close enough to invade my space, ruin my resolve.

"Tell me you don't want this," he murmured.

I clenched my fists. "Ethan—"

He tilted his head. "Tell me you don't think about me when you're alone."

I hated him.

Hated the way he knew exactly what to say to break me.

Hated that he was right.

I let out a shaky breath. "This is toxic."

Ethan smirked, but his eyes were too intense, too raw.

"You say that," he murmured, leaning in, his breath warm against my skin, "but you're still here."

My pulse skipped.

Because he was right.

Again.

I was still here.

And I had no intention of leaving.

I should have stopped it.

I should have pushed him away, turned around, walked out the door, and never looked back.

But instead?

I let him pull me in.

His hands found my waist.

Mine curled into his shirt, his skin, his everything.

And then, finally, we snapped.

His lips crushed against mine, and I lost myself in him.

In the heat. The undeniable pull.

In the way he kissed me like he was starving for it.

For me.

It was reckless.

It was dangerous.

It was exactly what I wanted.

And that?

That was the most dangerous part of all.

The kiss deepened, turned hungrier, more desperate.

And for a second, I let myself forget.

Forget the consequences.

Forget the reality.

Forget that we were standing in the middle of a gym where anyone could walk in.

And, of course—someone did.

A voice cut through the heat.

"Well, well. Look at this."

We broke apart.

I turned, heart slamming into my ribs.

And standing in the doorway?

Tessa.

Her arms were crossed, her eyes sharp with something that made my stomach plummet.

I barely had time to react before she spoke again.

"Guess I was right to have my suspicions after all."

Liv and Ethan give in to their desire—again.

Their secret is getting harder to keep.

Tessa catches them—there's no way out of this now.

The confrontation no one is ready for.