Falling Between the Notes (Nicholas Galitzine)

Chapter 73: Ending

Jade's POV

It was late, the kind of late where everything was quieter, heavier. The kind of late where thoughts got dangerous, where feelings got harder to ignore.

I lay in bed, exhaustion still gripping my limbs, my body drained from everything that had happened earlier. The sheets were tangled around my legs, and warmth pressed against my back, steady and unmoving. For a second, I forgot where I was. Then, the scent of clean laundry mixed with woodsy cologne settled over me, and I remembered everything.

Benito.

His arm was draped lazily over my waist, not holding me down, just there. His breathing was even, his chest rising and falling in slow, steady motions. I swallowed hard, realizing I had completely broken down in front of him earlier today. The shame crept up my spine, but before it could consume me, Benito shifted.

"Mami..." His voice was husky with sleep, deep and warm, vibrating against my skin. "Ya estás despierta?" (You're awake already?)

I hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah."

He made a small, tired noise before exhaling, stretching slightly before settling back down. "Tienes mejor cara." (You look better.)

I huffed a quiet laugh, turning to see him watching me through half-lidded eyes, his curls an absolute mess. "That's a nice way of saying I looked like hell earlier."

He smirked. "You cried all over my shirt, bebé. I had to throw it in the wash."

I groaned, pressing my hands against my face. "Oh my god."

"Nah, nah, don't hide now." He reached out, tugging my hands away. "It was cute. A little dramatic. But cute."

I narrowed my eyes at him, but the corners of my lips twitched. "You're the worst."

He grinned, running a lazy hand down my arm before stretching again. "Lo sé." (I know.)

For a moment, everything felt normal. Comfortable. But then I turned my head, eyes drifting toward the nightstand where my phone sat, and reality crashed back down on me. My fingers twitched, instinctively reaching for it, but before I could grab it, Benito caught my wrist.

His grip was gentle, but firm. "Don't."

I swallowed. "Benito—"

"No vale la pena, mi amor." (He's not worth it, love.) His thumb brushed against the inside of my wrist. "Ni un mensaje. Ni un pensamiento. (Not a message, or a thought.)"

I exhaled slowly, my pulse thrumming beneath his touch. He was right. I knew he was right. But knowing didn't make it any easier.

Instead of arguing, I let my hand drop away from my phone and turned onto my side, facing him. He watched me carefully, his dark eyes scanning my face, like he was searching for something. Whatever he found made his expression soften.

"Así me gusta." (That's more like it.)

I rolled my eyes, but before I could respond, my phone buzzed. I tensed, but Benito was already reaching for it, handing it to me without a word. When I checked the screen, I saw Leslie's name.

I answered immediately. "Hey."

Leslie sighed on the other end. "How are you feeling?"

I swallowed, glancing at Benito, who was watching me from across the bed. "I'm... okay."

She hummed like she didn't fully believe me but decided not to push. "We need to head back to California tomorrow morning, baby. You've hidden enough here in Miami."