Content Note: This backstory takes place two years before the start of Nick and Karina’s book. Some parts have been omitted due to spoilers. This story contains graphic language, alcohol use, and violence.

Luna Cove, MA

Two Years Ago

Ryan leaned back against the black velvet sofa and took a swig of his bourbon, savoring the smoky-sweet taste as it slid down his throat. Man, his night couldn’t get any better. He was chillin’ with his friends, drinking quality booze, and best of all, he finally dumped that soul-sucking demon spawn—a.k.a. his ex. And hot fucking damn, it felt good to be free.

“Fuck man, I can’t believe you lasted as long as you did.” Nick shot him a pointed stare. “If it were me, I would’ve dumped Val’s manipulative ass in less than twenty-four hours flat.”

“We were only together for a week,” Ryan replied, secretly kicking himself for not breaking things off sooner. But in his defense, he hadn’t expected Val’s personality to take a swan dive into the deepest pits of the Underworld either. She’d spiraled—doing a complete one-eighty—shifting from a sexy, fun-loving free spirit to a paranoid hellspawn right after they’d made it official. “I wanted to give her a chance.”

“To do what?” Daniel drawled from across the lounge table. “Murder you in your sleep?”

“She wasn’t that unhinged.” Ryan rolled his eyes. “She was just… needy.”

“Needy?” Nick cocked a dark brow. “Dude, Val couldn’t have been more attached to your ass if she’d been superglued to it,” he replied, taking a sip of his bourbon. “You didn’t have a girlfriend; you had a full-blown stage-five clinger.”

“Yeah, Val totally gave off unhinged stalker vibes.” Ash tipped her gaze up at him, sympathy flooding her gorgeous aqua eyes. “I mean, she lost her shit and attacked your waitress. With a fucking fork.”

“All over a damn drink order.” Nick shook his head, scrubbing a hand over his heavily stubbled jaw. “Man, that one really went from zero to batshit in record time.”

“Right?” Ash took a sip of her cocktail. “I’ve gotten jealous before, but I’ve never gotten so jealous that I tried stabbing my waitress because she asked my date if he preferred beer or bourbon with his dinner.”

“Val claimed the waitress was eye-fucking me,” Ryan grumbled, unsure why he felt so damn defensive. But then he prided himself on being an excellent judge of character, and somehow he missed every single one of Val’s red flags. She was a talented actress; he’d give her that much. But too bad for her, he wasn’t into drama club.

“Well, Val probably wasn’t wrong—not that I like agreeing with your deranged ex—but I could totally see the waitress eye-fucking you.” Ash fiddled with her straw. “I mean you are eye candy, not that it gives her a license to get stabby or anything.”

“You think I’m eye candy?” Ryan raised his brows, surprised by Ash’s newsflash. And it wasn’t because he thought of himself as unattractive. Not even close. He knew he was a head-turner, but it was the first time he’d heard the compliment spill from Ash’s perfectly pouty lips. And didn’t that just put a pep in his ego’s step?

“Duh,” Ash replied, angling her body towards his. “You’re hot, like impossibly hot. You have the face and body of a god, and you know it. Everyone knows it.” Ash sucked the rest of her drink down in two quick gulps. “You’re…” She gestured at him with her hands. “Noticeable.”

“Noticeable?” Ryan stifled a laugh, admiring the crimson blush dusting Ash’s cheeks. She was cute when she was flustered. Fuck that. She was gorgeous. Flustered or not. “That’s a first. Don’t think anyone’s ever called me noticeable.”

“What can I say? All those lit classes really paid off.” Ash’s thigh grazed his, sending a ripple of electric heat coursing through his veins. She snagged an apple pie shot off the black table and tossed it back like a champ, and grabbed two more shooters, swallowing the contents of each whole.

Man, Ash was sailing straight towards Inebriation Island, and if she kept downing those high-octane cocktails at this rate, he’d be carrying her out of the club. Not that he minded carrying her. Or touching her. Or just being near her, for that matter. Ash was like a breath of fresh air on a warm summer day—carefree and revitalizing—and just what he needed.

“I need another drink.” Ash shot to her feet, casting her gaze around the small group sprawled out on the circular sofa. “Does anyone else want a drink?”

The quartet all shook their heads and piped up, their varying baritones of “No’s” and “I’m good’s” resounding over the thumping music.

“Hold up. I’ll keep you company.” Ryan rose from the plush cushion, not wanting to leave Ash alone. “Maybe you can tell me about those lit classes. I’m looking to expand my vocabulary.” He winked.

“Well, I hate to disappoint you, but tonight’s limited vocabulary has been brought to you by copious amounts of booze.” She patted his arm. “But I’d love the company. You’re tall and intimidating, and really good at scaring off the douchey fuckboys.”

“That’s me, fuckboy intimidator extraordinaire.” Ryan grinned, placing his palm on the small of her back. “Happy to be of service.”

“You could start your own business.” Ash giggled, and fuck he loved the sound of that melodic laugh. He hadn’t heard her laugh in months, not since she’d been with Ben, but then that asshat had always been a buzzkill, choking out every ounce of joy in Ash’s life.

“Don’t give him any ideas.” Nick cut an amused glance at Ash. “He doesn’t need any more ideas.”

“Pfft.” Ryan rolled his eyes. “You’re just jealous cause I’d make a literal killing, and you know it.”

“Think you should step outside and get some fresh air,” Daniel piped up. “Your head’s starting to swell. Again.”

Ryan ignored them, turning his attention to Ash. “I’ll scare off anyone you wish.” He guided her away from their group of friends and over towards the long bar on the opposite side of the room. “Hell, I’ll even kill them if you want.”

“I know you’re eager to beat somebody bloody, but no. No murder.” Ash shook her head as they rounded the small dance floor. “It would be a shame to stain these clothes. This is a brand-new dress. I love this dress.”

“It is a gorgeous dress.” He eyed the short, shimmery rose-gold number, which hugged Ash’s luscious curves perfectly. “You look stunning.”

“Thanks.” A soft smile played up on her lips. “Ben hated it. He said it was too loud,” she scoffed. “Whatever that means.”

“Ben’s a Grade A, certified douche,” Ryan replied, pulling out an empty stool for Ash. He helped her up onto the padded seat and plopped down onto the chair next to her. “You deserve better than that fuckwit.”

And Ash did deserve better. He never understood what Ash saw in Ben, never got why she’d been so drawn to him. Sure, the dude was successful and attractive for a finance fuckboy, but that was about all he had going for him. He was a complete killjoy, with a stick lodged so far up his ass it was a miracle he could walk, let alone talk.

“What can I get you two?” The bartender placed two cocktail napkins down in front of them. Ryan got a seltzer with lime for himself, while Ash ordered a snickerdoodle martini and two more apple pie shots.

“I do deserve better, don’t I?” Ash turned towards him as soon as the bartender skated away.

“You do.”

“Gods, what did I ever see in him?”

“I don’t know,” Ryan replied, wondering the same thing. “You tell me.”

“Honestly, I think I was desperate and lonely,” she blurted. “I didn’t want to be single, not when everyone else was taken, so I settled.” She twisted her purple napkin. “I settled for a boring, self-absorbed man-child,” Ash groaned, dropping her head into her hands. “I’m such an idiot—an idiot who’s going to be spending New Year’s Eve dateless and alone, all because I wasted three months with that cheating douche nozzle. This sucks.”

“I’ll be your date.” The words spilled out of his mouth before he could even process them. But come on, like there was anything to think about. They were both single, and it wasn’t like he was asking her to marry him or some shit. It was one night. One date. No big deal. And yet, he felt like a fucking teen asking someone to prom for the first time.

“Seriously?” She snapped her head up, hope sparking in her blue-green eyes. “You’re not asking me because you feel sorry for me, are you? Because pity dates are the worst, and I don’t want a pity date.”

“It’s not a pity date. I’m asking you because I want to,” he replied, taking her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “I want to spend the evening with you because I like you, and I can’t think of a better way to kick off the new year than watching fireworks and drinking champagne with you.”

She studied him for a beat. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Well, in that case, I’d love to be your date,” she replied, flashing him a heart-stopping smile.

“Good. I’m looking forward to it.” Relief crashed over him as the corners of his mouth curved up. “I’ll swing by your room at seven.”

“Perfect.” She beamed up at him. “I can’t wait.”

The bartender set their drinks down, and Ash downed the shots like they were nothing more than water. “How do you feel about dancing?” she asked, her gaze twinkling with playful curiosity.

“It’s fun when it’s with the right person.”

“Good.” She hopped down from her stool. “Because I love this song and I don’t feel like dancing alone.”

“Well, we can’t let that happen, can we?” Ryan clasped Ash’s hand and led her out under the kaleidoscope of laser lights that pulsed over the crowded hardwood.

Ash whirled around, her gaze locking with his as she raised her arms over her head and swayed her hips to the thrumming beat. She was all sexy elegance and grace, her movements perfectly fluid as she danced like she didn’t have a care in the world. Ryan pulled her close, matching her sensual rhythm as Ash draped her arms around his neck. Ash’s carefree energy consumed him, freeing him from his problems as he lost himself to the hypnotic beat. The world around them faded, and all he could think about was her. All he wanted was her. And as if she had read his mind, she lifted her eyes to his, hunger flashing in her turquoise depths as she stood up on her tiptoes.

He dipped his head, and her warm breath caressed his skin as a raging inferno blazed inside him. He wanted to kiss the ever-living fuck out of her, wanted to get drunk off her taste, while he drowned in her sweet strawberry scent. And fuck, it took every single ounce of self-control not to crush his mouth against hers, no matter how much he wanted to. But Ash was buzzed and hurt. Her wounds were still fresh, and he didn’t want to take advantage of her, refused to use her as a rebound because she deserved better than that. He wasn’t a patient guy, but he was willing to wait. Because she was worth it.

Ryan pulled back, and a curtain of disappointment and confusion fell over Ash’s graceful features. And fuck, if he didn’t want to kick his own ass right there and then.

“I’m sorry.” Ash swallowed hard, wrapping her arms around herself. “I—”

“What the fuck.” Ben’s gravelly voice boomed over the thumping bass. He clasped Ash’s shoulder and yanked her backwards. “You stupid sl—”

Ryan stepped between them, ripping Ben away from Ash. “You want to finish that sentence?” He seized Ben’s throat, raising the asshole off the ground. “I don’t think you do.” Incandescent rage tore through his veins, his powers fueling his strength as he hauled the fuckwit off the dance floor.

“Listen up, asshole.” Ryan slammed Ben against the far wall and squeezed the asshat’s trachea, cutting off his oxygen supply. He daggered Ben with a venomous stare. “If you ever even blink in her direction again, I will gouge your eyes out. If you ever speak to her again, I’ll rip your tongue out. If you ever even think about touching her again, I’ll fucking cut your hands off. See where I’m going with this?” Ryan demanded, resisting the urge to tear the asshole’s heart out.

Ben wheezed, gasping for breath as he bobbed his head.

“Good,” Ryan replied. “Because if you ever go near her again, I’ll become your worst nightmare.” He got into Ben’s face, tightening his hold. “I will turn your worst fears into reality, and I will break you, piece by little fucking piece until there’s nothing left. Blink twice if you understand.”

Ben blinked once. Twice.

“Good boy.” Ryan clapped Ben’s cheek, releasing the shit stain from his grip. “Now get the fuck out of my sight.”

He spun, spotting Ash sandwiched between Nick and Daniel, who were radiating with protective menace. Ryan crossed the short distance in a couple of quick strides, stopping in front of her. He swept her blonde waves away from her face and cupped her cheek. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” She nodded, pressing her cheek against his palm. “But I think I’m ready to go home.”

“All right,” he replied, roping his arm around her waist. “Let’s get out of here.”

One hour, two glasses of water, and an order of cheese fries later

Ryan sank down onto the king-sized bed, letting his gaze roam over Ash’s spacious bedroom. The airy space reminded him of a Caribbean beach with its varying shades of turquoise blues and beachy creams. The airy room should’ve mellowed him out, but his gut knotted with worry.

Ash had disappeared into the ensuite bathroom to change, but she’d been locked in there for fifteen minutes too long. With all the mystical cocktails she’d imbibed, he was scared she’d crack her head open on the tile. “You sure you’re okay?” he called out.

“Yeah.” Ash stepped into the bedroom, dressed in fuchsia plaid pajama pants and a matching Henley. She sank down onto the mattress next to him and stared down at her glittery nails. “I’m sorry,” she blurted.

“For what?” Ryan frowned.

“For accosting you on the dance floor earlier,” she replied. “I thought you wanted to kiss me, but—”

“I wanted to kiss you. I still do.” Ryan slid his finger under her chin, tilting it until her beautiful sea-blue eyes met his. “But not like this, not when you’re drunk.” He swept his thumb over her lower lip. “Because when I kiss you, I want you to remember every sweet second of it. I want you to remember the feel and taste of my lips pressed against yours. And I want you to remember that it was real, and not some booze-fueled rebound, because rebounds are rarely real. And there’s no rushing real.”

“Oh,” she breathed. “Wow… Now I really want you to kiss me.”

“Patience, kitten.”

“I don’t have any patience.”

“I know, but I’ve got some to spare.” Ryan chuckled, pressing a kiss on top of her head. “I’ll let you get some rest.”

“No. Wait.” She clutched his hand. “Will you stay? I really don’t feel like being alone tonight.”

“Yeah, I’ll stay,” he replied. Like he’d ever deny her a sleepover. It was a time-honored tradition, something they’d done in the past—chatting and cuddling the night away while watching movies and eating popcorn—especially after a rough night. But time had changed things. Time had changed them, and the sleepovers stopped. But he was more than ready to start them back up again. He missed Ash, missed spending his nights with her, even when she stole all the covers. And sure, their friendship seemed to shift into unfamiliar territory, but he was more than eager to explore this new path.

Ryan shrugged out of his leather coat and shed his clothes, stripping down to his boxer briefs. He flicked the lights off and slid under the thick comforter. Ash tucked herself against his side and pillowed her head on his chest, her hair feeling like soft silk against his skin.

“Ryan?” she murmured.

“Hmm?”

“I think I want to be more than friends,” she whispered, slinging her arm around his waist.

“The feeling’s mutual, kitten.”

© Copyright 2026 Amelia Kayne | All Rights Reserved