The air was heavy with last night—our fight, our kiss, the way we tore each other apart only to fall right back together. My skin still burned with the memory of his hands, my lips still raw from his. Sitting on the edge of his bed, I slipped carefully into the only thing I could grab: one of his black shirts. The fabric hung loose on me, soft and worn, carrying his scent like a brand I couldn’t scrub off.

Maybe if I left now, I could pretend it was just another mistake.

But Damon stirred, lashes fluttering open, and those blue eyes locked on me instantly. His smirk curved slow, dangerous—like he’d been expecting this exact scene.

“Morning, gorgeous,” he rasped, voice rough with sleep, playful, taunting.

I rose quickly, clutching the hem of his shirt like armor. “We broke up, Damon. Toxic, messy, done. Blah, blah, blah. Remember?” My tone was sharp, but my heart betrayed me, beating hard in a chest that shouldn’t even beat.

He didn’t answer. Not with words. He pushed the sheet away and stood, naked, unashamed, utterly Damon. My throat tightened as my eyes shot upward, clinging to his face like survival. Don’t look down. Don’t. Look. Down.

He caught it instantly, that wicked gleam flashing in his eyes. “Eyes up here, sweetheart.” His grin was infuriating, knowing exactly what restraint was costing me.

I folded my arms, tugging his shirt tighter around me, as if the fabric could hide how undone I was. “You’re impossible.”

Damon stepped closer, slow, deliberate, radiating the kind of confidence that had always destroyed me. “And yet,” he murmured, eyes dragging over me, lingering on how his shirt barely skimmed my thighs, “you’re standing there in my clothes. Smelling like me. Fighting not to want me.”

My breath caught, anger and desire tangling until I couldn’t tell them apart. “We’re toxic,” I whispered, though the words sounded weaker than I intended.

He leaned down, close enough for his breath to ghost over my lips, voice low and dangerous. “Maybe. But you’ll never walk away from me wearing that shirt.”

And God help me—I knew he was right. The hardest fight in the world was keeping my eyes locked on his… when every part of me wanted to give in.