20. Felix
FELIX
T he mountain air is sharper than I expected, cold enough to bite but clean in a way that makes me feel lighter with every breath. Snow blankets the cabin’s surroundings, muffling the world until all that’s left is the crunch of boots on the frozen ground and the faint rustling of trees swaying in the wind. For the first time in what feels like years, there’s peace. No threats, no plans, no looming shadows. Just us.
Julian and I arrived here a week ago, courtesy of his father. A rare olive branch—or maybe just a calculated reward for the work we pulled off. Pinning the bulk of the Greco family’s crimes on the Vitales wasn’t easy, but it was damn effective.
Through weeks of careful planning, we fed my research into an anonymous tip to the authorities. The Vitales became the focus of a sweeping investigation, and while the cops uncovered the Greco family’s fingerprints on some of the evidence, they unearthed something bigger: a sprawling drug operation the Vitales were running under everyone’s noses. The scale of it was enough to keep the cops busy, effectively shielding the Grecos from scrutiny.
Julian’s father was impressed—grudgingly, of course—but impressed all the same. He declared the job “clean,” and from him, that was high praise. As a gesture of his satisfaction—and likely to get us out of sight while things cooled down—he sent us to this fancy mountain lodge to lay low.
The cabin is far more luxurious than anything I imagined. Polished wood beams stretch across the ceiling, and floor-to-ceiling windows frame a view of the mountains that could be straight out of a postcard. There’s a massive stone fireplace, plush leather couches, and a kitchen stocked with more food than two people could eat in a month. It’s the kind of place where people go to forget the world.
And that’s exactly what we’re doing.
It’s late now, the stars brighter here than I’ve ever seen them. Julian and I sit on the porch, wrapped in thick blankets and sipping cocoa from oversized mugs. The air is so still that I can hear the crackle of the fire inside even from out here. Julian’s shoulder presses against mine, warm and steady.
“Are you okay?” he says cautiously, his eyebrows creased with worry.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be? I got a free vacation.” I wrap my arm around him.
“No, I mean...with what we did. I never wanted to drag you into all of this.” The words come rushing out like a river breaking through a dam. “Especially after what happened to your father. I’m so sorry I tainted your world. I’m so sorry?—”
I press my lips against his, silencing him. “Julian, I love you. I would do it again ten times over.” I lean my forehead against his. “You didn’t taint me, you revived me. I was so empty and angry. You gave me joy…and love. I can commit a few crimes for love, Greco.”
Julian smiles and presses his face into my neck.
“I got an email today,” Julian says, his voice muffled by my skin.
“From who? It better not be from my mom. It’s enough that you guys call each other and you send her flowers every week. You don’t need to be pen pals, too.”
His shoulders shake from his warm chuckle before he sits up. “No, no.” He hesitates, then turns to face me fully, a small, almost nervous smile tugging at his lips. “A coach. From Cooper University.”
I blink. “ The Cooper University? The one with the top football program in the country?”
“That’s the one,” he says, grinning now. “They’re offering me a scholarship. Full ride.”
My heart stutters, a mix of pride and panic flooding my chest. “Julian, that’s…that’s incredible.”
“It’s more than that,” he says, his voice softening. “It’s a way out. A real way out. Away from my father, the family, all of it. I wouldn’t need to rely on anyone but myself.”
His words hang in the air, heavy with possibility. I want to match his excitement, to throw my arms around him and tell him this is everything he deserves. But all I can think about is what it means.
“You’d be leaving,” I say quietly. “Leaving everything.”
“Not everything,” he says, his hand finding mine beneath the blanket. “Not you. I don’t want to do this without you, Felix.”
The sincerity in his eyes makes my throat tighten. “Julian, I still have law school. I can’t just?—”
“Then come with me,” he says, cutting me off. “Cooper has a great law program. You can transfer. I have some not-illegal money set aside. We can start over, Felix. Together.”
His words are a lifeline, a vision of a future I never dared to hope for. But it’s terrifying, too. Leaving means abandoning the life I’ve built, the safety net I’ve clung to.
“Are you sure?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. “Are you really ready to walk away from all of it?”
“Yes,” he says without hesitation. “I’m ready. The only thing I need is you.”
“But I can’t leave my mom.”
“Annie Caruso conveniently got offered a high paying job in the same city as Cooper University. She just called me today because she wanted to make sure I’d take care of you.” Julian raises an eyebrow.
I shake my head. “Julian Convenient Greco, was it?”
“That is my legal name, yes sir.”
The weight of his conviction steadies something in me. I search his face, looking for any trace of doubt, but there’s none. He means it.
I nod slowly, a small smile breaking through. “Okay,” I say. “Let’s do it.”
Back inside, the fire casts a warm glow across the room as we settle in front of it. The decision we’ve made feels monumental, but in this moment, it’s just us.
“I love you,” Julian says suddenly, his voice raw and unguarded.
“I love you, too,” I reply, my chest tightening with the depth of the feeling.
Our lips meet in a slow, tender kiss, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I let myself believe in the future we’re building. Wrapped in each other’s arms, with the fire crackling softly beside us, it feels like the start of something new. Something ours .
The next morning, I wake to the smell of coffee and the faint sound of shuffling in the kitchen.
Julian’s already up, standing by the counter with a pan in one hand and a spatula in the other. He’s wearing one of my sweaters, oversized on him, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
“Morning,” I say as I lean against the doorframe and take in the sight of him.
“Morning,” he replies, flashing me a smile. “I figured I’d make us breakfast.”
“You can cook?” I tease, raising an eyebrow.
“Sort of,” he admits. “I’m good at eggs. And toast. And, uh, coffee. Real husband material.”
“Husband, hm?” I say, walking over to him. “Impressive.”
He shrugs and flips the eggs with surprising skill. “You’ll see. I might just blow your mind.”
As we eat, the conversation stays on lighter topics—favorite childhood memories, embarrassing moments, things we’ve never had the chance to share before. It’s easy, comfortable, the kind of connection I never thought I’d find in the middle of all this chaos.
Over the next few days, we settle into a routine. Mornings are spent hiking the trails around the cabin or lounging on the porch, afternoons filled with reading by the fire or watching movies we’d both somehow missed over the years. At night, we talk about everything and nothing, about the life we want to build and the people we want to become.
It’s in those quiet moments that I realize just how deeply I’ve fallen for Julian—not just for his strength or his charm, but for the way he looks at the world with a kind of relentless hope, even after everything he’s been through.
One evening, as the sun dips below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of amber and violet, Julian and I take a slow walk along the trail that loops behind the cabin. The air is cold, our breaths visible as soft puffs in the fading light.
“This is nice,” Julian says.
“It is,” I agree. “It’s nice not to constantly be watching our backs.”
Julian nods, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Or pretending we’re just…friends.”
“Or worse,” I add with a smirk, “pretending you’re not constantly sneaking looks at me.”
He laughs, the sound rich and genuine, and it warms me more than any blanket or fire ever could.
“Guilty,” he admits, pulling me closer. “But to be fair, you weren’t exactly subtle, either.”
“Subtle’s overrated,” I say, leaning into him as we walk. “I think we’ve proven that.”
By the time we get back to the cabin, the sky is completely dark and the stars are out in full force. Inside, the fire is already crackling, the glow casting long shadows across the walls.
Julian pulls me toward the couch, and we collapse onto it in a tangle of limbs and laughter. He’s grinning at me, his hair messy from the wind, his cheeks still pink from the cold.
“You’re beautiful,” he says softly, his fingers brushing my cheek.
My face heats, but I don’t look away. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
He laughs again, the sound softer now, and then he’s leaning in, his lips meeting mine in a kiss that’s both tender and insistent.
The world outside the cabin fades away as we lose ourselves in each other. The worries and the fears, the expectations and the danger—they all melt into the background, leaving only the two of us.
As his hands find my waist and pull me closer, I know this is where I belong—here, with him, in this moment that feels like it could stretch on forever.
We’ve fought so hard for this, for the chance to just be together without the weight of everything bearing down on us. And now, as the firelight flickers across the room and his lips move against mine, it feels like we’re finally free.
***
On our last night at the cabin, we sit on the porch again, wrapped in blankets and staring up at the stars. Julian’s arm is around my shoulders, holding me close, and for a while, neither of us speaks.
“What do you think it’ll be like?” I ask finally.
“What?”
“Starting over. A new city, a new life.”
He’s quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “I think it’ll be hard…but it’ll be worth it.”
I nod, resting my head against his chest. “Me, too.”
And as we sit there, the stars above us and the future stretching out in front of us, I know that whatever comes next, we’ll face it together.