A SECOND CHANCE AT FOREVER Chapter 84: CHAPTER EIGHTY-FOUR

ASHLEY

I should have fought him.

Should have shoved his hand away, turned on my heel, and walked out that door just to prove a point.

But I didn’t.

Because I couldn’t.

Not when my body still felt like it didn’t belong to me. Not when my pulse was still trying to catch up to what had just happened. Not when Kyle’s fingers were still lightly gripping my chin, holding me in place like he knew the second he let go, I’d run.

And maybe he was right.

My body still ached from the water, my lungs still burned, but the worst part wasn’t the aftereffects of almost drowning. It was him.

The way he was looking at me.

Like I was something fragile. Breakable.

Like I was something his.

I sucked in a slow, measured breath, forcing my voice to be steady. “You don’t get to tell me what to do, Kyle.”

His eyes darkened, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them. “Yeah?” His thumb brushed over my jaw, the touch barely there, but enough to make my stomach twist. “Then walk out that door, Freckles.”

My fingers curled into the edges of the towel wrapped around me.

I hated that nickname.

I hated that he still used it like it meant something.

Like we still meant something.

My throat felt tight, but I ignored it. “I don’t need you.”

His jaw tensed, his eyes darkening in a way I recognized all too well. “You almost drowned, Ashley.”

I flinched at the raw edge in his voice, at the way he said my name like it physically hurt him.

“You can pretend all you want, but I’m not stupid. You’re not fine.”

“And what, you think you know me so well?” I snapped back

His expression flickered, something unreadable passing through his eyes. “Yeah, Freckles,” he murmured, voice low. “I do.”

And just like that, my defenses nearly cracked.

Because he did.

He knew me in ways that no one else ever had. He had seen me at my worst, my best, my most reckless, my most stubborn.

And now, he had seen me at my weakest.

His grip finally loosened, and I took the opportunity to step back. Not much, but just enough to put space between us. Just enough to breathe.

“I’m fine,” I said again, lifting my chin. “You did your hero act. You can go now.”

His expression hardened, lips pressing into a thin line. “You think that’s what this is?” His voice was quieter now, more controlled, but I could still hear the anger simmering beneath it. “You think I pulled you out of that pool just to play the hero?”

I swallowed. “Didn’t you?”

He exhaled slowly, dragging a hand down his face. “Jesus, Ash.” He shook his head. “You almost died. And the first thing you do after waking up is push me away?”

I clenched my fists. “What do you want me to do, Kyle? Fall into your arms? Tell you how grateful I am? Pretend like this changes anything?”

His eyes searched mine, something raw flickering there. “I want you to stop acting like you’re alone in this world.”

The words slammed into me harder than they should have.

Because that was exactly how I felt.

I swallowed against the lump in my throat, looking away. “I’m tired.”

Kyle studied me for a long moment before exhaling sharply. “Fine,” he muttered. “I’ll take you home.”

I looked up sharply. “No.”

“Ashley.” His voice was all warning now.

“I don’t need you to take me home.”

“Tough.” He stepped forward again, invading my space like he had every damn right to. “You’re not driving. You’re not walking. And you sure as hell aren’t staying here.” His gaze darkened. “So unless you wanna test out option two, I suggest you get moving.”

I hated him

I hated that he still thought he could control me.

I hated that, deep down, some part of me wanted to let him.

But most of all?

I hated that I was too damn exhausted to fight him on this.

I let out a shaky breath, then turned on my heel, walking toward the exit with as much dignity as I could manage.

Kyle followed, his presence a heavy weight at my back.

And I told myself—lied to myself—that it didn’t feel like safety.

That it didn’t feel like home.

Because it couldn’t.

Not anymore.

My skin was clammy beneath the oversized towel wrapped around me, but the warmth was starting to seep in, dulling the sharp edge of cold that had settled in my bones.

Kyle kept his arm hovering near me, like he expected me to collapse at any moment. He didn't touch me, but his presence was a weight I couldn't ignore.

Neither of us spoke.

The air between us was thick with something unspoken, something tense. I knew he was waiting for me to say something—to admit that I had been reckless, that I had been stupid for swimming alone. That I should’ve asked for help, or at the very least, recognized that something was wrong before it was too late.

But I couldn’t.

I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of being right.

Even if he was.

When we reached the exit, I hesitated. The night air was cooler than I expected, and I shivered involuntarily, my fingers clutching at the towel. Kyle noticed. Of course, he did.

“Here.” His voice was gruff as he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over my shoulders before I could protest. It was warm. Heavy. Smelled like him.

I stiffened, but didn’t move to take it off.

It was just practical, I told myself. Nothing more.

We walked to his car in silence. I should have insisted on calling a cab. Should have told him I’d get home on my own. But I didn’t trust my legs to carry me that far, and he knew it. I could feel the smugness in his quiet as he opened the passenger door for me, waiting.

Reluctantly, I slid inside.

He shut the door and moved around to the driver’s seat. The car rumbled to life, the warmth from the heater blasting against my chilled skin. I sank into the seat, exhaling softly, exhaustion creeping up on me faster than I expected.

Kyle didn’t start driving immediately. He just sat there, fingers gripping the wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white, his jaw locked. The air in the car was thick, suffocating, the hum of the engine the only sound between us.

I could feel his gaze on me. Waiting. Demanding.

Finally, he exhaled sharply, the sound cutting through the silence like a blade. “What happened tonight?”

I flinched at his bluntness but forced myself to meet his gaze. “I didn’t die, so we can skip the conversation.”

His fingers flexed against the leather wheel. “Because I was there.”

I swallowed, throat tight. “I would’ve been fine.”

Kyle let out a slow, measured breath, like he was trying to hold something back. “You were at the bottom of the pool, Ashley.”

I clenched my jaw, staring straight ahead.

I didn’t want to think about it.

The panic. The helplessness. The way my limbs had stopped responding. The way the water had swallowed me whole.

I wasn’t supposed to need saving.

But I had.

Kyle’s voice was low, controlled—too controlled. “Talk to me. What really happened?”

My nails dug into the towel wrapped around me. “Nothing happened.”

“Nothing?” He repeated You almost fucking drowned. That’s not nothing.”

I turned to him, eyes flashing. “You don’t get to do this.”

He cocked his head, gaze dark and unreadable. “Do what?”

“Act like you have a say in my life.”

Something in his expression shifted. The anger, the frustration—it didn’t fade, but it twisted into something else. Something deeper.

His voice dropped, rough and raw. “I know I don’t.”

He turned toward me fully now, and I felt it—the weight of his presence, the heat rolling off him despite the cold that still clung to my skin.

“I know I don’t have a say in your life, Ashley. I lost that right a long time ago.” His fingers curled into fists on his lap, like he was barely keeping himself in check. “But I sure as hell don’t want you to die.”

His voice dropped lower, the words thick with something dark, something unshakable.

“Because I wouldn’t survive it.”

The breath left my lungs.

Kyle leaned in just enough that I could see the storm brewing in his eyes, feel the barely restrained fury beneath his calm exterior.

“If something happened to you…” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “The world could burn, and I wouldn’t care. I’d set the fire myself.”

I swallowed, my pulse thudding against my skin.

“I’d tear everything apart,” he continued, voice like gravel, like sin. “I’d drag the whole damn world down with me just to follow you.”

The air in the car turned stifling, thick with the weight of his words.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

Because for all the things Kyle had ever said to me, all the ways he had broken me, shattered me—

Nothing had ever sounded more like the truth.

He stared at me for a beat longer, then, without another word, turned back to the wheel and threw the car into drive.

The tires screeched against the pavement as we sped off into the night.

And I told myself I imagined it—the way my heart ached at the thought of what he’d just said.

At the thought that, despite everything…

Kyle Blackwood would still burn the world for me.