bChapter /bb112/bb: /bbLa /bbPOV /b

    The house is quiet now, nketed in the kind of stillness that makes you breathe softer without even meaning to, afraid you’ll disturb the shadows and the dreams around you. Somewhere downstairs, the fridge hums and the floorboards creak, but it all feels far away.

    Everything feels far away –

    except him.

    I’m standing outside his door, his hoodie sleeves bunched around my fists, my heart doing this uneven thing in my chest like it can’t make up its mind.

    After Cade helped Tessa get a sleeping Mason into her car, I headed upstairs to my room. I tried for what felt like days to fall asleep. Tossing and turning, my mind a million miles away, my breathing refusing to settle downb, /band my body rebellious against my attempts to settle and fall asleep.

    One name kept rushing back to me, over and over, and eventually I conceded that I would not find sleep without his arms around me tonight. And that’s how I came to be here, looking at his closed door, and my hand reaching for the doorknob.

    I don’t knock, and I don’t speak. I just open his door, slowly and silently, so as not to startle either of us, and then slip inside.

    The room’s dark, the air chillier than in the hallway, and it’s lit only by the faintest spill of moonlight from the cracked blinds. His scent wraps around me the second I cross the threshold- something nutty and sweet, like vani and old books, grounding and familiar.

    Hunter’s already asleep, his one arm thrown across the bed like it’s waiting for me.

    I stand there for a moment, watching him breathe. Each slow rise and fall of his chest softens something inside me that I didn’t realize was clenched.

    Then I move. And as quietly as I can manage, I slip across the room and beneath his covers.

    Even before I settle against his mattress, and even before I getfortable, his arm finds me.

    There’s no hesitation in his movement or words to ask what I’m doing here. Just his instinct thatplements mine in knowing that this feels right.

    His fingers sy wide across my waist, tugging me gently into his broad chest. Like his body already knows mine, as if it’s muscle memory, and like the perfect puzzle pieces we slot together.

    Chapter 112: La POV

    And then I exhale. Finally.

    :

    55

    His breath is warm against the back of my neck, slow and even, still mostly asleep. And it settles my

    frazzled insides.

    But when I shift just slightly, turning in the curve of his hold until we’re face to face, he stirs. His eyes blink open, sleepy and soft, as he peers into the depths of my soul even in the dimness of the

    room.

    “Couldn’t sleep?” he murmurs, his voice low and rough with sleep, his nose mere inches from mine.

    “Too much in my head,” I whisper. “And too much to think about.”

    He nods, as if he understandspletely what I mean. Like maybe sleep’s been dodging him, too, for

    the same exact reasons.

    Silence stretches between us for a few heartbeats, thick withfort that doesn’t need filling, and

    calming my racing heart.

    Then I ask the question that’s been at the back of my mind most of the day, softly and carefully, “Why did you stop earlier?”

    His gaze sharpens slightly, like he’s remembering exactly what I mean, and his eyes search mine. His

    hand resting on my hip slips beneath my hoodie, and his thumb starts brushing along the bare flesh

    on the curve of my waist, slow and steady.

    “Because when I do,” he says, his voice a little rougher now, “I want to take my time. I want you to

    remember every goddamn second. And I want you to be able to scream my name when I sink inside

    you.”

    My breath stutters at his honest but raw words, causing something inside me to pull tight and soften all at once. Because this is my Hunter steadfast, considerate, devoted.

    –

    And then I’m kissing him. Not because I should. But because I have to. Because those words did something to me something profound, sharp, and impossible to ignore.

    His blips /bmeet mine without hesitation, slowly and surely, and oh so fucking tenderly, that my heart feels like it might shatter into a thousand and one pieces, all with his name engraved on them.

    But underneath it all, there’s fire that’s leashed and patient and aching.

    Chapter 112: La POV

    He kisses me like he feels everything too much. Like he’s memorizing every breath he steals from me, every shiver his hands cause, and every shift of my mouth against his masterful one.

    When we finally break apart, I whisper against his lips, my forehead pressed against his, “You scare

    me sometimes.”

    55

    I feel more than see his brows pull down slightly, but he doesn’t move away from me as he asks

    warily, “Why?”

    “Because you see through me. Since day one,” I admit. “But you’re not afraid of what you’ll find.”

    He brushes my hair back from my face, slowly and carefully. “I’m not,” he confirms, “I’ve seen enough darkness to know yours won’t scare me off.b” /b

    I swallow thickly, the lump in my throat tastes like salt and something fragile, before I confess, “I don’t want to mess this up.”

    “You won’t,” he says in a voice that’s steady and firm,ced with conviction, “Even if you tried.”

    I lean into him, my forehead resting against his chest, where his heart beats–slow and steady, like a

    metronome I didn’t realize I’d been syncing to.

    “I love you,” he whispers into the crown of my head.

    His words root me to this moment, like gravity, and make me realize I needed to hear them without

    knowing it.

    “I love you, too,” I breathe against his chest.

    His arms wrap tighter around me as his legs tangle with my own, his mouth brushing my hair, as he murmurs, “I thought about you all day.”

    “I could barely function,” I admit with a softugh. “Pretty sure I took notes during econ that were just your name in hearts.”

    “Sounds about right,” he says, and I feel him smile against my hair.

    “Did you…think about it?” I ask, my voice smaller now, “What happened this morning?”

    His grip tightens around my waist. “I haven’t stopped,” he says simply. “But I meant what I said. When I finally have you, La, it won’t be rushed. And it won’t be hidden behind an alley wall. I

    Chapter 112: La POV

    :

    want you bare and begging and imine/i–without ianything /iholding us back.”

    The promise of it punches through me with heat and something close to awe.

    “You really think I’ll beg?” I whisper, yfulness returning to my voice.

    He chuckles, and it’s low and rough, before he says confidently, “I know you will.”

    I should probably be embarrassed at how much that turns me on. But I’m not. I’m too far gone for this man.

    His hand slides higher underneath my hoodie, and to my back, not with hunger this time, but reverence, spreading his intoxicating warmth along my spine.

    I let him pull me closer so he can tenderly kiss my forehead, temple, and the corner of my mouth like he’s marking the points he wants to return to, and soon.

    b55 /b

    We stay like that, tangled in each other, quietly breathing each other in, and for the first time today, my heart stops racing and finally finds peace.

    I fall asleep in his arms, warm and wrecked and safe in the sort of way I never thought I’d get to have.

    –

    Sexually frustrated, maybe but so full I think I might burst from it anyway.

    And in the darkness of his room, just before I drift off into slumber, I hear him whisper–so faint I almost miss it – “Mine.”

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