Damien’s POV
The glass door clicked shut behind them.
Outside, the night stretched wide and silent, a sharp contrast to the echo of Maya’s voice still ricocheting in Damien’s chest. Cool air kissed his skin, but it did nothing to ease the burn crawling up the back of his neck.
He gripped the railing like it was the only thing keeping him tethered.
Ashcroft leaned beside him, forearms resting on the railing, his gaze steady on the dark horizon. For a while, neither of them spoke—the only sounds were the rustle of palm leaves and the faint crash of waves in the distance, the quiet tension hanging between them.
Then, after a few beats, Ashcroft said plainly, “You scared the s**t out of her, man.”
Damien’s jaw clenched. “I’m starting to wonder if this is even worth it.”
Ashcroft turned
