Page 160 of Joker

The thought is so beautiful it almost steals my breath. And so terrifying it nearly gives it right back. Because wanting forever means there is something to lose. Wanting forever means this is no longer just survival.

It’s hope. And hope is the scariest thing I’ve held in a very long time.

Joker’s hand slides up to the side of my neck, grounding me back into the room. “What is it?” he asks quietly.

I could lie. I probably should.

Instead, because this man has somehow become the safest place I know to put the truth, I let out a shaky breath and whisper, “I was just thinking.”

His mouth brushes mine once. “Dangerous.”

I huff a laugh. Then, because apparently I’m determined to make this worse for myself, I say the rest. “I was thinking about what forever with you would look like.”

The room goes very still.

Joker doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink. Doesn’t breathe for one long, loaded second. Then his eyes lock on mine with a heat and certainty so deep it almost buckles my knees.

And when he finally speaks, his voice is low enough to scrape. “Yeah?”

That one word is enough to send my heart into complete chaos.

I nod once. Barely.

His thumb brushes over my pulse point. Slow. Intentional. And then he says the most dangerous thing of all. “Keep thinking about it.”

My breath catches.

His mouth curves, but there’s nothing teasing in it. Nothing casual. Only certainty. Only promise. Only the kind of quiet, unshakable confidence that says he has already started building that future in his own head too and isn’t the least bit sorry about it.

And just like that, I know two things at once.

The first is that forever with him would be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever been brave enough to want.

The second is that wanting it this badly means if something takes it away it will destroy me.

The air between us shifts.

Not gradually. Not gently. All at once.

Joker’s hand tightens slightly at the back of my neck, his thumb still resting over my pulse like he’s tracking every beat, every spike, every reaction I can’t hide. “You keep looking at melike that,” he murmurs, voice low and rough, “and I’m gonna stop being gentle.”

My breath catches. “Gentle?” I whisper.

His mouth curves, but there’s nothing soft in it now.

“I want you Raven,” he says quietly. “Hard, fast, and rough. I don’t wanna scare you so I’ve been holding back.”

The words send a slow, dangerous heat through me.

Not fear. Not panic. Something deeper. Something that feels like stepping right up to the edge of a cliff and realizing I want to jump.

I should hesitate. I should think. I should remember every reason this is complicated, every reason this is risky, every reason I’ve spent so long trying to stay careful.

Instead, I hear myself say, “Then don’t.”

The shift in him is immediate. His eyes darken, jaw tightening just enough to show he’s holding something back, and not by much.

“Angel,” he warns, voice dropping lower, “you sure you wanna push me right now?”