Chapter 60

Leila's POV

I could feel the night air against my skin, cool and sharp, but it didn't do anything to ease the heat building inside me.

It had been weeks since I last saw Marshall, weeks since the tour had taken him away from me and now, standing here waiting for him to step off that jet, I felt that familiar tension clawing at my chest, the same tension I'd felt every time we were apart, the same tension that burned me alive every time I thought about the way things had been left between us.

The fight, the fury, the kiss that followed.

I crossed my arms over my chest, watching the jet come to a stop, my heart pounding harder with every second.

I hated how much I missed him, hated how deep he got inside my head, he was always there, no matter where I was or what I was doing, it didn't matter how angry I was, how many times I'd told myself I needed space from him, Marshall always had a way of pulling me back and it wasn't just love.

It was more than that.

It was a need.

A need I couldn't ignore, no matter how toxic it became.

Even after everything that had happened, even after the way we'd torn into each other, I couldn't escape the pull between us, the fire was always there, waiting to ignite the second we were back in the same room.

But part of me wasn't sure how to feel about it.

Should I be angry, or should I just give in?

The way I found those panties in his luggage, the rage that had surged through me, it wasn't something I could shake off so easily, even though Marshall had told me Madison was gone, that he'd fired her after everything, the doubts still gnawed at the back of my mind, I trusted him, but sometimes, trust wasn't enough.

Not with us.

My eyes locked onto the stairs as he descended from the jet, he was here, finally.

The sight of him sent a rush of heat through me, stronger than the cool night air could calm, his eyes found mine almost instantly, and just like that, everything else melted away, the world around us blurred, and all I could see was him.

Marshall, with that familiar intensity in his gaze, the one that always made me feel like I was balancing on the edge of something dangerous.

No, it wasn't just intensity, it was something deeper, a kind of obsession, the way he looked at me, it was like I was the only thing in his world that mattered, as if he was hungry for me, like the distance between us had only fueled that hunger and I felt it too, this raw, burning need to be near him, to feel him, like nothing else could ever fill that void but him.

He walked toward me, his stride confident but heavy, like he carried the weight of everything we were in every step, and for a second, I thought maybe I'd say something, maybe I'd bring up the fight, the accusations, the distance that had made me question everything.

But then he was there, standing right in front of me, and every word I thought I might say disappeared.

"Laila" he breathed, his voice rough, like it had been dragged through miles of exhaustion and longing, the way he said my name always felt like a claim, like he was pulling me back into him even when I wanted to push him away.

I didn't say anything, I just stepped closer, my body drawn to his like it always was, like the fire between us couldn't be denied.

His hands found my waist, pulling me into him, and in that moment, nothing else mattered.

Not the fight.

Not the distance.

Not the jealousy that still simmered beneath the surface.

It was just him, his heat, his breath, the way his hands tightened on me like he couldn't let go.

But this wasn't just about desire, it wasn't always about the fire that raged between us, there was something softer there too, something that kept me anchored, in moments like this, when we were close and the world faded away, I knew it wasn't all about the chaos.

There were calm moments, loving moments, where everything between us felt right, when he looked at me like I was the only thing keeping him sane, and I felt it too, the comfort, the love.

His lips crashed into mine, had and needy, and it felt like coming home and losing myself all at once, the taste of him, the feel of him, igniting every nerve in my body, it was always like this with us, the fire was too hot, too intense, and I could never get enough of it.

No matter how much I tried to pretend I needed space from him, I always came back, I needed him, it was like I was addicted to the chaos we created, the way we destroyed each other only to piece ourselves back together again, no one else would ever get me the way Marshall did, no one else would ever drive me this crazy.

My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, needing to feel more of him, needing to erase the weeks of distance with every touch, his lips moved against mine with a hunger that matched my own, and I couldn't stop the small moan that escaped me, couldn't stop the way my body pressed harder into his, as if I could burn away the memory of everything that had come between us.

He pulled back just enough to look at me, his breath coming in ragged bursts, his eyes dark and wild.

"I fucking missed you" he rasped, his voice low, filled with that raw intensity I'd fallen in love with, there was something almost possessive in his voice, the way he said it, like missing me wasn't just an emotion, it was a need, a need he couldn't control.

I felt my heart clench at the sound of his words, at the way he looked at me like nothing else existed, but beneath that, there was still something unsettled.

The fight lingered in the back of my mind, the doubt, the jealousy, but right now? Right now, I didn't care.

"I missed you too" I whispered, my voice soft, almost trembling with the weight of everything I felt.

We stood there, our foreheads pressed together, both of us catching our breath as if we'd just run miles.

For a moment, there was a quiet between us.

It was rare.

That stillness, where it was just me and him, breathing the same air, feeling the same pull.

It didn't happen often, but when it did, it felt fragile, like if we moved too fast or said the wrong thing, the calm would shatter.

His fingers loosened their grip on my waist, moving up to brush the hair from my face, his touch was gentle, so unlike the fire I was used to from him, for a second, I could almost believe that this could be enough, that maybe we didn't always have to burn so bright, so hot, that maybe we could just exist like this, in the calm, in the quiet.

But I knew better.

We both did.

His hands slid down to my hips, and that softness disappeared, replaced by the familiar heat that always simmered beneath the surface, hus grip tightened again, and I felt that tension, that need building between us.

And then we were kissing again, harder this time, more desperate, more consuming, his hands roamed my body, rough and possessive, as if he needed to remind himself that I was real, that I was his and I was, I always had been, no matter how much I tried to pretend otherwise.

The world around us disappeared, and all that was left was the heat, the hunger, the fire that had always defined us.

My back pressed against the car behind me, and I could feel the cold metal through my shirt, but it only made the warmth between us burn hotter.

His hands slid up my waist, fingers digging into my skin as he lifted me slightly, pressing me harder against him, my legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, needing to feel every inch of him, his lips moved to my neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, and I couldn't help the gasp that escaped me, couldn't help the way my nails dug into his shoulders as the desire built inside me, threatening to consume us both.

"Marshall" I breathed, my voice catching in my throat as his teeth grazed my skin, sending a shiver down my spine.

"Tell me you're mine" he growled, his voice rough and urgent, like he needed to hear the words to believe them.

"You know I am" I whispered back, my fingers tightening in his hair, pulling his lips back to mine "I'm yours"

It was the truth, no matter how many times we fought, no matter how many times we burned each other down, I was always his, and he was mine.

We were fire, consuming everything in our path, but it was the only way we knew how to be.

The kiss deepened, the heat between us growing more intense, and I knew that this moment, this brief calm between us, wouldn't last.

It never did.

But right now, I didn't care.

Right now, all I wanted was to be lost in him, to let the fire burn as hot as it could.

Because I knew, deep down, that this was who we were.

This was what kept us coming back to each other, no matter how many times we tried to walk away.

We were the storm and the calm, the fire and the ashes.

And even though I knew the storm was coming, I couldn't help but lean into the fire.