Chapter Five
Ronan
Blissed out.
That’s the only way to describe what’s taken over my entire system. It’s like every fuse in my body has short-circuited, and I’m just lying here, floating somewhere between euphoria and disbelief.
Berkley Monroe is curled against my side, all flushed cheeks and sleepy smiles, and I swear I’ve never seen anything more perfect in my life. Her hair’s a little wild, her lips kiss-bitten, and her skin still humming with the heat of everything we just did. And all I can think is: Mine.
No. Ours.
But if I’m being honest? I’ve always claimed her. Long before this. Long before any of us had the guts to say it out loud.
“Berk,” I murmur, brushing a thumb across her cheek, “you’re going to be the death of us, you know that?”
She laughs, soft and still breathless. “You’ve said that before.”
“Yeah, and I’ll say it again, and again.”
She snorts and hides her face in my chest, and God, if that isn’t my favorite sound.
Emerson lies still; one arm draped over his face like he’s trying to compose himself. Rowen’s on her other side, fingers lightly trailing along her arm, calm as always, but I can tell by the way he keeps glancing at her like he can’t quite believe this is real.
“You’re incredible,” Rowen says, his voice low, reverent.
“Beautiful,” Emerson adds without missing a beat.
Berkley’s cheeks flush deeper, and I tilt her chin, so she’ll look at me.
“Seriously, Berk,” I say, completely sincere, “you just took three guys who are madly in love with you and made us yours. You’re our center. You always have been.”
She swallows, her eyes glassy, overwhelmed. And I get it. We all feel it. This thing between us—it’s not casual. It never was.
Silence stretches between us, warm and thick like honey. Berk’s tucked against me, soft and flushed and perfect, and I’m pretty sure I’m never moving again. If this is what bliss feels like, I’ll stay here forever.
But Emerson, ever the responsible one—even if he hides it under all that broody charm—clears his throat and ruins the moment.
“We should probably get you cleaned up and dressed,” he says, sounding like it physically pains him. “We didn’t lock the door, and Reign should be back soon.”
Rowen mutters something that sounds a lot like dammit, and I groan dramatically because, well... same.
Still, he’s right. We all know it. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.
I slowly untangle myself from Berk, pressing a kiss to her shoulder as I help her sit up. She looks deliciously wrecked—hair messy, cheeks pink, lips swollen—and I swear I consider delaying us for another round. But I rein it in. Barely.
We take care of Berk first, grabbing a warm cloth from the bathroom connected to my room.
One by one, we tend to her gently, wiping away the places where we marked her, our voices dropping into low rumbles we can’t seem to control.
It feels instinctive, almost primal—like something in us is waking up as we move around her, protective and sure.
And now that she’s ours, now that she’s let us close enough to truly feel her… there’s no universe where we ever let her go.
Once she’s clean, we pull our clothes back on clumsily, half-laughing messes.
Shirts are inside-out. Socks are missing.
Rowen keeps finding reasons to lean over and kiss Berk’s shoulder or temple.
Emerson brushes her hair back and fastens the clasp of her bra with a kind of care that makes my chest ache.
Me? I pull her onto my lap long enough to steal one more kiss before I tug her shirt down and say something dumb like, “Ten out of ten, would ruin my life for you again.”
She laughs. God, I love that sound. I think I’d burn cities for it.
By the time we’re halfway presentable, the door creaks open.
Reign walks in, takes one look at the scene—us pretending like we didn’t just emotionally and physically combust—and raises a perfectly judgmental eyebrow.
The silence stretches.
Then she smirks. “So... y’all finally worked your shit out, huh?”
None of us says a word. We don’t have to. I’m grinning like a lunatic, Rowen’s trying to look composed and failing, and Emerson’s got that smug-but-smothered look he wears when he’s feeling too much at once.
Reign rolls her eyes. “Took you long enough.”
She drops a hoodie onto the armchair like she hasn’t just caught us mid-afterglow and turns to Berk with a wink. “When you’re done being worshipped by your boy band, swing by my room. We’ve got best friend things to cover.”
And just like that, she’s gone.
The door clicks shut, and for a second, none of us move.
Then we all burst out laughing.
Berk glances up at me, smiling so wide it might break my damn heart in the best way.
Yeah, she’s ours.
And nothing’s ever felt more right.
Just when I think she’s settled—her body relaxed against mine, that glow still on her skin—Berkley starts wiggling around in my lap like a restless little pixie.
I grin, watching her squirm. She does this thing with her shoulders when something’s on her mind, like her thoughts are too big to keep contained in her tiny frame.
I know that look. It’s the same one she’s worn a hundred times when she wants to say something important but isn’t sure how it’s going to land.
I glance at Emerson and Rowen. They’ve both noticed too. We’ve all learned how to read her like a second language.
“What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours, Berk?” I ask, brushing my fingers through her hair. “You’re squirming like you’ve got ants in your leggings.”
She bites her lip and sits up just enough to look around at each of us, clearly debating whether to speak. That lip bite? Dead giveaway that it’s serious.
“You can say anything,” Rowen says gently.
“We mean anything,” Emerson adds, voice low but steady. “You know that.”
She nods, then takes a deep breath and blurts it out in one quick tumble.
“Okay, so, you know you’re my first for a lot of things.
.. and I just—I guess I need to know what I’m walking into.
Like... how experienced you guys are. And if.
.. I don’t know, if anyone should be tested or something before we. .. go any further.”
Her cheeks are bright red before she finishes, but she holds our eyes like the brave little firecracker she is.
And damn, if I don’t love her even more for it.
She’s not asking to judge or trying to make anything weird. She’s asking because she’s smart. Responsible. Ours.
And we all feel it—her vulnerability, her courage, her absolute trust in us not to shut her down.
We all remain silent for a moment, because this question deserves more than a rushed answer.
But inside?
My chest is thundering with one truth: she doesn’t know it yet, but she’s the only one I’ve ever been waiting for.
Rowen lifts a hand, confessing his sins. “I’ve... kissed a few girls. Messed around. Nothing ever serious. No sex. No one ever meant anything. Not like this.”
Emerson sighs. “Same. No sex. Nothing deep. Mostly just trying to forget what I wanted. Which was this. You.”
Berkley nods, quiet but understanding. But I can see a brief flicker of something in her eyes. Hesitation maybe? A question she doesn’t know if she should ask.
So, I say it before she can.
“Not me.”
She turns to me slowly, brows raised.
“I’ve never been with anyone else,” I say simply, shrugging. “Never even kissed another girl.”
Rowen lifts an eyebrow. “Seriously?”
“Dead serious.”
Emerson whistles low. “Didn’t know that.”
I glance back at Berk, who’s looking at me like I just flipped her world sideways.
“You’re the only one that’s ever mattered,” I say softly.
“Always has been. Even when we were kids. I knew I was... different. Kinda off. Temper too quick. Brain too wired. But you never batted an eye. You’d just squeeze my hand or look at me, and I’d settle.
You saw me when most people didn’t know what to do with me. ”
She blinks rapidly, and I see the tears threatening behind those big, beautiful eyes.
“You calm me, Berk. You always have.”
Her lip trembles, and she leans in to kiss me. Not rushed. Not heated. Just full of something quiet and forever.
And I know, without a doubt, that I’d save myself a thousand times over again... if it meant ending up here.
I give Berk’s perfect ass a playful swat—just enough to make her squeak and shoot me that look that says you’re lucky I like you, Calder.
I steal one more kiss from her—quick, soft, and just enough to make her lips curve into that smile that’s ruined me forever—then I give her a playful nudge toward my brothers.
“Go say bye to them before they start sulking like abandoned puppies.”
Rowen scoffs. “I don’t sulk.”
Emerson snorts. “You literally sighed so loud when she went to the bathroom earlier, I thought the house was collapsing.”
Rowen flips him off, but he’s grinning. Berk rolls her eyes at us all like we’re a pack of toddlers, but she goes to them anyway, and yeah—we all watch her like lovesick idiots.
Still, I can’t help the tug in my chest, so I speak up again, this time softer. “Hey, babe... maybe linger a little longer with Reign. She’s been off lately.”
That earns nods from both my brothers.
“She’s hiding something,” Emerson says, brow furrowed. “You can see it in her eyes.”
“And if she’s not even talking to you,” Rowen adds, looking at Berk, “that’s saying something. You two usually share a brain.”
Berk pauses at that, her gaze flicking to the hallway, thoughtful. We can see the wheels turning.
“She probably just needs some girl time,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck. “We’ve been kind of... monopolizing your time with her.”
“Kind of?” Emerson echoes, raising a brow.
“Okay, fine—aggressively. Possessively. Lovingly monopolizing,” I admit, unrepentant. “But still. She’s your person, too. Go check on her. Let her vent. Maybe braid her hair and summon the moon or whatever shit it is you two do when we’re not around.”
That earns a little laugh from Berk as she walks back toward the door, but I’m not done yet.