Adam’s POV

  I don’t know when it started.

  Maybe it was always there, waiting, hiding under the surface like a truth I refused to look at.

  But the moment I realized?

  It hit me like a fucking freight train.

  Maybe it was after rehearsal that one night, when her body went slack from exhaustion and I picked her up.

  The way she clung to me without hesitation, trusting me to keep her steady.

  The way she fit against me… like she belonged there…

  Something in my chest ached.

  I felt safe.

  Safe.

  The thought alone makes my skin crawl.

  And yet it keeps echoing, unprompted, unfiltered… Louder than anything I’d ever let myself admit.

  Mine.

  The word repeated, over and over, drilling into my skull.

  My Nickie.

  What the fuck?

  I hate the way it sounds.

  Possessive, selfish, wrong.

  I have no right to call her that, not even in my own head.

  Because I don’t own people.

  I don’t belong to anyone.

  And no one belongs to me.

  That kind of thinking is dangerous. It leads to pain.

  I know that.

  I tell myself I’ll shove it down. Bury it.

  Rip it out before it takes root.

  But then she looked at me: lazy grin, hair falling into her eyes.

  “Yo, Bass Boy. You spacing out?”

  Just like that, it takes hold.

  The thought dug in deep, refusing to let go.

  Because from that moment on, no matter how hard I fought it…

  She wasn’t just Nickie.

  She was my Nickie.

  And the scariest part?

  I don’t hate the way it feels.

  I’m Staying Right Here | 3rd Person POV

  Adam and Nickie stepped outside after the show, settling onto a makeshift bench near the fire pits.

  The flames flickered over their faces, casting lazy shadows. Adam lit a cigarette, the ember flaring orange in the dim light.

  “Sorry,” he muttered, glancing her way.

  She tilted her head, studying him.

  ‘He’s been apologizing non-stop since that day.’

  “Do whatever you want, man,” she said, leaning back.

  “I know… I just don’t want the smoke to bother you.”

  Nickie smirked, leaning close to his ear.

  “In that case, you’ll have to quit.”

  Adam raised an eyebrow, weighing that for a moment, then took one last drag before flicking the cigarette away halfway.

  “I was kidding!” she laughed.

  “Oh really?” His grin turned sly as he hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her into his lap.

  “Adam!!! Wait!...”

  “Just pulling your leg,” he teased, leaning in close enough for her to feel his breath before backing off with a grin.

  Nickie stayed put, crossing her arms as if to say, I’m staying right here.

  “It’s cool. I’m comfy.”

  “Yeah?” His grin softened, something warm spreading through his chest.

  “Hey… do that thing you do,” she said quietly.

  “What thing?”

  She took his hand and set it gently on her head. “This thing.”

  Adam chuckled and began threading his fingers through her hair, slow and light.

  Nickie closed her eyes and let out an exaggerated purr.

  He burst into laughter. “Are you serious right now?”

  “Shhh, I’m relaxing,” she smirked, eyes still closed.

  ‘That laugh… I hope he does it more,’ she thought.

  They stayed like that, the noise of the crowd fading until it was just firelight and quiet.

  Anywhere she touched him felt like pure light, and he didn’t want to move.

  Then Nickie jolted upright. “Shit! Adam, we’re gonna miss our bus!”

  Before he could react, a familiar voice cut in. “You guys need a ride to the station?”

  They turned to see Alonzo standing there, hands in his jacket pockets, a faint smile on his face.

  “Dude!” Adam shook his head with a laugh. “You’re like a ninja.”

  Nickie doubled over laughing. “How long have you been standing there?”

  “Long enough to know you’re cutting it close,” Alonzo said, his tone easy but without his usual teasing edge. “Come on. I sobered up and I’ve got room. I’ll get you there.”

  “You’re the best,” Nickie said as they followed him.

  They climbed in, the faint scent of cold night air and smoke trailing in after them.

  Doors shut, seatbelts clicked, the quiet hum of the heater kicked on.

  The engine growled to life, headlights spilling across the lot.

  “You two looked sick in the pit,” Alonzo said as he pulled out.

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  “I thought you were gonna take someone’s head off, Schwartz.”

  Adam smirked in the rearview.

  “Hey, if someone’s head comes off in the pit, that’s just natural selection. Not my fault if they can’t handle it.”

  Nickie snorted. “Yeah, yeah, Mr. Natural Selection. Meanwhile, Alonzo’s out here lurking like some kind of friendly neighborhood stalker.”

  “Friendly neighborhood lifesaver,” Alonzo corrected. “You’d be hitchhiking if it weren’t for me.”

  Nickie grinned. “Fine. We’ll put up a statue in your honor: Stealthiest Uber Driver of All Time.”

  Adam chuckled. “Make sure it’s got that smug little smirk. Really capture the essence of the man.”

  Alonzo laughed, shaking his head. “You two are lucky I like you.”

  He turned down the music to a reasonable volume.

  Nickie’s hand rested beside her, fingers loose against the seat between them.

  Adam noticed, his gaze catching on it.

  For a moment, he kept still, then slowly let his own hand fall to his side: close, but not quite touching.

  Nickie’s lips curved into a small smile.

  Adam caught it, and something eased in his chest.

  With quiet care, he let his fingers drift the last inch until they rested over hers, a light but deliberate contact.

  Alonzo saw the motion in the rearview mirror and smirked faintly, keeping his eyes on the road.

  Adam felt her hand stay under his, warm and steady.

  Then he said only for her to hear, “I don’t get it.”

  She looked over. “Don’t get what?”

  “You haven’t told me to back off,” he said, uncertainty in his voice.

  Nickie blinked. “Why would I?”

  “I even followed you into the toilet booth.”

  She chuckled at the memory.

  “Yeah, that was funny.”

  Then, tilting her head, she whispered,

  “Hey… you said you trust me, right?”

  Adam’s dark eyes shone bright as he answered without hesitation.

  “Yeah.”

  “Good. Because if you ever do something that bothers me, I’ll stop you. Devil scout’s honor.”

  Adam’s shoulders eased in a visible relief.

  “Okay,” he whispered. “Don’t let go.”

  Her fingers pressed on his. “I won’t.”

  They’re fucked, but in a good way | Alonzo’s POV

  I kept my eyes on the road, but the rearview mirror was magnetic.

  Every few seconds I’d catch Adam and Nickie in the backseat.

  Which, honestly, was like stumbling onto a nature documentary about two rare animals finally acknowledging they like each other.

  Adam had his arms wrapped around her like she was the last safe place on Earth.

  The kind of hold that says, “don’t go far,” without ever speaking it.

  Now, I’ve seen Adam in a lot of states.

  Furious. Hollow. Careless.

  Wired from a gig.

  Drowning inside his own mind.

  But I’ve never seen this.

  This quiet, urgent gravity pulling him toward another human being.

  And Nickie… didn’t even blink.

  Just let him hold on.

  Like it was the most normal thing in the world to be clung to by a guy who usually flinched at affection like it was a hot stove.

  I like Nickie.

  She’s sharp.

  Got teeth.

  Doesn’t take Adam’s crap, which is exactly why he melts around her.

  He’s a hurricane in combat boots, and she stands in the eye like she paid rent there.

  She noticed me staring.

  “What, never seen two people sit before?”

  “Oh, I’ve seen people sit. I just haven’t seen him act like a Victorian wife whose husband is going off to war.”

  Adam’s arms tightened around her instantly.

  Protective.

  A little warning flare.

  There it was.

  The lightning.

  He didn’t growl or anything, but Adam’s silence is its own language, and right now it said: watch your tone, rodent.

  I held up a hand. “Relax, Basszilla. I’m teasing.”

  Nickie leaned her head back against Adam’s shoulder, smirking.

  “He’s just mad you called him delicate.”

  “I did not call him delicate,” I said.

  “I called him emotionally compromised. Very different.”

  Adam finally spoke.

  The soft, low voice he uses when he’s hanging on by a thread.

  “I swear to god, Alonzo.”

  Which, from Adam, translated loosely to: If I wasn’t holding her right now, I’d flick your soul out of your body.

  They’re so fucked.

  In that sweet, terrifying way.

  And it is. Terrifying.

  Because Adam plus feelings is like watching a demon try to hold a butterfly.

  He’s so gentle it makes you squeal, so terrified of breaking it that you’re the one who almost faints.

  And the whole time you’re praying his past doesn’t grab him by the throat.

  I cleared my throat. “You good back there, Satan’s intern?”

  Adam lifted his eyes just enough to glare at me over Nickie’s hair.

  A soft glare. A tired one.

  The kind he saves for people he trusts too much.

  “Talk again,” he muttered, “and I’ll steal your brakes.”

  “See? Look at that. Emotional communication.”

  He didn’t dignify that with a reply.

  Just tucked his chin over Nickie’s head.

  Classic Adam: threaten me, then cuddle harder. Real intimidating.

  See, Adam doesn’t do fake.

  Doesn’t do open either.

  The guy guards his insides like there’s a moat and a drawbridge and maybe a dragon.

  So this quiet desperation?

  This need to keep her close, like she’s the only thing keeping him from shattering?

  Yeah.

  That worries me.

  I know Adam.

  So I know there’s that little voice in his head, whispering that he’s not enough.

  If that ever gets too loud?

  He’ll cave in on himself like a dying star.

  And I’m not letting him go supernova on my watch.

  Nickie poked my seat with her boot.

  Hard.

  On purpose.

  “Drive faster, gramps. You brake like my grandma.”

  I glared at the mirror. “Bold words from someone currently trapped in a cuddle prison.”

  She grinned. “Oh no, trapped with someone cute. Tragic.”

  I couldn’t see it, but I could feel it… Adam was blushing so hard he could combust.

  Don’t remember hearing anyone calling him cute before.

  And suddenly I felt that warm, traitorous affection I pretend not to have.

  ‘I’m definitely not going to squeal out loud. No way.’

  Adam buried his face in her shoulder like he could hide from the universe.

  “You two make me sick.”

  “Love you too, Lonz,” Nickie chirped.

  Adam didn’t say anything, but his hand slid protectively over hers, thumb tracing her knuckles.

  I swear, if someone tried to take her away right now, he’d rip the steering wheel out of my hands and crash us into destiny or vengeance or some dramatic shit he’d pretend wasn’t intentional.

  Is Nickie ready for that?

  For the obsession, the silence, the trauma coiled under his skin?

  Don’t know.

  Not my call.

  But I’ll keep watch.

  And if anyone tries to mess with the two of them?

  They’ll have me to deal with.

  And I don’t play nice.