It has been almost eight months since Kieran moved in, and in that time, everything has shifted in ways I can't fully grasp. My relationship with Nate is unraveling, though I won't say it's because of Kieran. Nate is distant, always working late, always distracted. And then there's the new colleague—the beautiful woman he's suddenly so eager to help.
I try to believe him. I try to push away the sinking feeling in my gut when he doesn't answer his phone, when his excuses pile up, when his kisses feel less like promises and more like habit. But doubt lingers, gnawing at the edges of my trust, unraveling the certainty I once had in us.
Meanwhile, Kieran is here. Steady. Present. Unapologetically himself. Conversations with him flow effortlessly, laughter sneaks up on me, and in the quiet moments, I catch myself lingering on the way his voice dips when he teases, the way his hands linger when he corrects my form, the way he looks at me like he already knows.
But I'm holding on to Nate, even as I feel myself slipping. Because when it was good, it was safe. It was familiar. Nate was a steady hand, a predictable love, a warmth I thought would never fade. Maybe I'm a fool for thinking I can have both. Maybe I'm a fool for wanting more.
––––––––––
Kieran has been relentless about getting me to try Brazilian jiujitsu. He says I'll love it, that I need to learn how to defend myself. I think he just wants an excuse to get his hands on me.
That night, he took it a step further, pushing the couch aside, rolling out a mat in the living room. "Alright, Anh," he said, stretching his arms above his head, his shirt riding up just enough to be unfair. "Let's see if you can handle me."
I snorted. "In your dreams."
His grin was sharp, full of mischief. "Every night."
Heat curled low in my stomach, but I ignored it, stepping onto the mat. "Fine. Show me."
Kieran's body moved with sharp precision, every motion controlled and deliberate. His voice was steady, guiding me through the basics, his hands adjusting my stance with just enough contact to make my pulse spike. His fingers grazed my wrist, my waist, the small of my back—always firm, always intentional.
"No, not like that," he murmured, stepping behind me. His chest brushed against my back, his breath warm against my ear. "You need to be stronger here." He slid my arm into position, his fingers skimming my skin. "Like this."
I swallowed hard, willing my focus to stay on the technique and not the way my body reacted to him. "You make it sound easy."
His lips tilted, eyes dark with amusement. "That's because I'm a natural. You, on the other hand… might need a few more lessons."
I huffed, rolling my eyes. "This is stupid," I muttered before lunging at him, determined to take him down.
He let me believe I had a chance. For a few seconds, we tumbled across the mat, laughter and breathless curses filling the space between us. But he was stronger, faster, and I was no match. With one swift movement, he flipped me onto my back, caging me beneath him.
The air thickened. His body pressed against mine, heat radiating between us. His grip on my wrists was firm but unrestrained, his face inches from mine. For a second, neither of us moved.
His gaze dropped to my lips before flicking back up, something dangerous flashing behind his eyes. "See? This is why you need more lessons."
I should have laughed, should have shoved him off. Instead, my breath came short, my body betraying me as my thighs instinctively clenched around his waist. His expression darkened, his fingers flexing around my wrists.
"You sure you're learning, Anh?" His voice was low, teasing, but there was something else behind it. Something rough, something wanting.
I swallowed hard, my pulse hammering. "You talk too much."
His lips curved. "You could shut me up."
I moved before I could think, flipping us in one sharp motion, straddling his stomach. His hands fell to my thighs, his grip firm, his breathing uneven.
"How's that for a first-timer?" I taunted, but my voice came out softer, breathier.
Kieran arched an eyebrow, clearly amused, his hands resting lightly on my thighs. "Impressive," he admitted, his voice tinged with humor. "But you know this isn't over, right?"
I didn't have time to respond before he moved with practiced ease. His hands gripped my hips briefly as he shifted his weight and executed a high crotch takedown, flipping me back onto the mat with effortless control. My yelp of surprise turned into an involuntary soft moan as the sensation of his arm brushing against me sent an unexpected jolt through my body.
Kieran froze for a split second, his expression unreadable as his eyes locked onto mine. "Didn't expect that, did you?" he said, his tone still playful but with a noticeable edge, as though testing the waters of something unsaid. His weight pressed down on me again, his face hovering close, and the air between us felt charged in a way that was impossible to ignore.