Vinny woke up with a dull throbbing behind his eyes and the taste of last night still on his lips—alcohol, smoke, and something unmistakably Matthew.
It hadn't escalated into anything physical—yet—but it had gotten close. Too close. Close enough that Vinny knew Matthew was letting him play this game, allowing him to push.
And that was what kept him awake long after the club had emptied.
Because Matthew didn't let anyone do anything.
Vinny groaned, sitting up in his bed, his sheets a mess from restless sleep. His phone vibrated on the nightstand.
Tom.
Vinny sighed and picked up. "Yeah?"
"Rise and shine, sweetheart," Tom drawled. "I assume you're still alive?"
"Barely."
"Good. Because we need to talk."
Vinny rolled his eyes. "And here I thought you called just because you missed me."
"Oh, I do. But this is more important." Tom's voice lost its usual playfulness. "Matthew."
Vinny's fingers twitched. "What about him?"
Tom sighed dramatically. "You're getting too close, Vin."
Vinny chuckled. "Aren't you the one who told me to play with him?"
"Yeah. Play. Not…" Tom hesitated, as if searching for the right word. "Not whatever the hell this is."
Vinny frowned. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Bullshit."
"Tom—"
"No, you listen." Tom's voice was sharper now. "Matthew isn't us, Vinny. He's not wired like you and me. You think you have control? Maybe you did at first, but I've seen the way he looks at you. He's reeling you in."
Vinny opened his mouth to argue but stopped.
Because for once, Tom wasn't wrong.
Matthew was a different kind of dangerous. Tom was predictable—manipulative in a way that Vinny had grown used to, their toxic little bond forged from years of pushing and pulling. But Matthew? Matthew watched. He waited. He let Vinny believe he was the one holding the leash, only for Vinny to realize too late that the leash was wrapped around his own throat.
"Relax," Vinny finally muttered, rubbing his temple. "I know what I'm doing."
Tom didn't sound convinced. "I hope so."
And then the call ended.
Vinny exhaled and flopped back onto his bed, staring at the ceiling.
Tom was wrong. He had to be.
Because if Vinny wasn't in control… then what the hell was he doing?
Later That NightThe bar wasn't as flashy as the club from the night before, but it had its own appeal—warm lighting, low music, the kind of place where people whispered secrets they shouldn't.
Vinny sat at the bar, nursing a drink he barely touched, when a voice broke through his thoughts.
"Well, if it isn't my favorite mistake."
Vinny tensed before forcing a smirk onto his lips. "Noah. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Noah slid into the seat beside him, effortlessly charming as always, his sharp jawline and knowing smirk making it clear he expected to be noticed.
"I heard you've been busy," Noah said, stirring his drink lazily.
Vinny raised an eyebrow. "Stalking me now?"
"I don't have to," Noah replied, tilting his head. "Word gets around. You and Matthew? Interesting choice."
Vinny chuckled, leaning forward slightly. "Why? Jealous?"
Noah's smirk didn't falter, but his eyes darkened.
"You and I both know," he murmured, "that he's not the one who left marks on you first."
Vinny's breath hitched. He wasn't sure if it was because of the words themselves or the way Noah said them—low, possessive, dripping with the memory of their past.
A past Vinny had buried for a reason.
He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to relax. "Well, Matthew's much more fun than you were."
Noah laughed. "Liar."
Vinny took a slow sip of his drink, letting the alcohol burn down his throat before setting the glass down. "Why do you care, Noah? You and I ended a long time ago."
Noah's smirk faltered for just a second before returning, smoother than before. "Did we?"
Vinny rolled his eyes. "Oh, don't start."
Before Noah could respond, someone new slid into the space beside Vinny.
Matthew.
The tension in the air shifted immediately, the atmosphere thickening as Matthew's gaze flickered between them. He didn't say anything at first, just looked.
Noah, to his credit, didn't flinch. Instead, he smirked and leaned back. "Ah. Speak of the devil."
Matthew ignored him. His attention was solely on Vinny. "We're leaving."
Vinny blinked. "Excuse me?"
Matthew's jaw tightened. "Now."
Vinny bristled. "And why exactly would I do that?"
Matthew didn't answer. He just stared—a silent, unyielding challenge.
Noah laughed under his breath. "Wow. You really are letting him leash you, huh?"
Vinny's eyes snapped to Noah, something in his chest twisting violently.
Matthew didn't move, but his presence was suffocating. He wasn't touching Vinny. He wasn't threatening him.
And yet, Vinny could feel the weight of something in the way Matthew stood. The way he knew Vinny would give in.
Vinny exhaled sharply and grabbed his jacket.
"Fine."
He hated the way Noah smirked like he had won something.
But the worst part?
Vinny didn't know if Noah was wrong.
Outside the BarThe air was cold against Vinny's skin, but the tension between him and Matthew burned hotter than ever.
Matthew walked a few steps ahead before stopping abruptly. He turned, eyes flashing. "What the hell were you doing with him?"
Vinny crossed his arms. "None of your business."
Matthew stepped closer, voice dangerously low. "It is when he touches what's mine."
Vinny's breath caught. "I'm not yours."
Matthew smirked. "You sure?"
Vinny wanted to argue. Wanted to shove Matthew back and tell him that he didn't belong to anyone.
But the truth?
He wasn't so sure anymore.
Because for all the games, all the pushing and pulling—Matthew had started winning.
And that realization terrified him more than anything else.