12. Katie #2
My fingers fumble with the buttons of his henley. Too slow, too frustrating. I give up and just pull, and buttons scatter across the hardwood floor.
“That was my favorite shirt.”
“Bill me.”
He laughs against my mouth and the sound vibrates through my entire body. His hands unhook my bra with a skill that probably should concern me but definitely doesn’t. Not when his mouth is trailing down my throat. Not when his palms are sliding up my ribcage, cupping, squeezing, making me gasp.
“Bed.” I can barely form the word. “Now.”
He lifts me and my legs wrap around his waist automatically, and I can feel exactly how much he wants this pressing against me. The few steps to the bed take forever. Take no time at all.
He lays me down like I’m precious. Follows me down like he can’t bear to be apart for even a second.
“Henry.”
“Say my name again.”
“Henry.”
“Again.”
“Henry, please.”
“Please what?” His fingers hook into the waistband of my underwear. “Tell me what you want.”
“You. Just you.”
The last barriers between us disappear.
And then we’re skin to skin, nothing separating us, nothing holding back. He settles between my thighs and pauses, forehead pressed to mine, breath ragged.
“I love you.” He says it like a vow. “I love you, Katie Brooks.”
“Show me.”
He does.
Slowly at first, watching my face. Learning what makes me gasp, what makes me moan, what makes my back arch off the mattress. He pays attention like this is the most important thing he’s ever done.
I’ve never been with someone who PAYS ATTENTION.
Kyle was always rushing toward the finish line. Always focused on himself. I spent years thinking that was normal. That this was as good as it got.
I was wrong.
“Look at me.” Henry’s voice cuts through the haze of pleasure. “Stay with me.”
My eyes flutter open.
His gaze locks onto mine, and something passes between us. This is what it’s supposed to feel like.
This connection. This sense that we’re not just two bodies moving together, but two souls finally finding their way home.
“I love you.” The words spill out between gasps. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”
“I know.” He moves deeper, harder, and stars explode behind my eyes. “I’ve always known.”
The world narrows to just us. Just this bed, this room, this moment. Everything else falls away. Kyle, Erin, the video, the comments, the pain, the doubt. None of it matters. None of it exists.
There’s only Henry.
Only us.
When I finally shatter, it’s with his name on my lips and his arms around me, holding me together even as I fall apart. He follows moments later, burying his face in my neck, groaning my name.
We stay tangled together for a long time after.
His weight presses me into the mattress. The afternoon light slants through windows that need curtains, painting everything gold.
“I love you.” The words come easier now. Natural, like breathing.
“I love you too.” He rolls onto his side, pulling me with him so we’re facing each other. “In case that wasn’t clear.”
“It was clear.” I trace the line of his jaw, feeling the stubble scratch against my fingertips. “But I like hearing you say it.”
“I love you.”
“Again.”
“I love you, Katie Brooks. Former revenge partner. Terrible liar.”
“Hey. I’m an excellent liar.”
“You literally cannot keep a straight face when you’re hiding something. Your left eyebrow twitches.”
“It does NOT.”
“It absolutely does. I noticed it the second week.”
I prop myself up on my elbow, looking down at him. His hair is a disaster. There’s a stupid, satisfied smile on his face.
He looks happy.
“What happens now?” I ask.
“Now?” He pulls me back down, tucking me against his side. “Now we figure it out together. No family drama.”
“What about Kyle? What about Erin?”
“What about them?” He shrugs like they’re strangers. “Kyle’s a cautionary tale people will forget in six months. Erin’s dealing with her own demons. They’re not our problem anymore. We’re done letting other people’s mistakes define our lives.”
“That sounds nice.”
“It sounds boring.”
“I could use some boring.” I press a kiss to his chest, right over his heart. “Boring sounds amazing, actually. Boring sounds like a vacation.”
“Then boring it is.” His arms tighten around me. “Boring breakfasts with lumpy oatmeal. Boring afternoons making coffee for people who don’t tip. Boring nights watching terrible movies until we fall asleep on this very uncomfortable couch.”
“The couch is uncomfortable?”
“The couch is a disaster. I bought it at a garage sale for forty dollars and I’m pretty sure something died in it at some point.”
I laugh into his skin. “You gave away a penthouse with custom Italian furniture for a couch something died in?”
“Worth it.” He kisses the top of my head. “Every penny. Every sacrifice. Worth it for this.”
“You’re such a sap.”
“Only for you.”
The room drops into a tranquil silence, entirely safe and self-contained.
The future doesn’t feel terrifying anymore. It doesn’t feel like something to survive. It feels possible. It feels like something I actually want instead of something I’m just enduring.
“Hey, Henry?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you for waiting.” I close my eyes, feeling sleep start to pull at the edges of my consciousness. “For not giving up on me. For building a whole new life just so I could see what we could be without all the noise.”
“I’d do it again.” His lips press against my hair. “A thousand times. A million. However many it takes.”
“You might regret that. I’m told I’m high maintenance.”
“Whoever told you that was an idiot.”
“It was Kyle.”
“My point stands.”
I smile against his chest. My eyes are getting heavy, the exhaustion of the past month finally catching up with me. The warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, the feeling of finally being exactly where I belong.
“Hey, Katie?”
“Mmm?”
“Stay.”
“I already said I would.”
“I mean tonight. Tomorrow. The day after.” His arms tighten around me. “I mean forever, if you’ll have me.”
My heart stutters.
“Forever is a long time.”
“I know.” He tips my chin up so I’m looking at him. “But I’ve wasted enough time being afraid. Being alone. Being the guy who let the love of his life walk away once and vowed never to let it happen again.”
“Henry...”
“I’m not asking you to marry me.” He smiles softly. “Not yet. But I’m asking you to stay. To build something with me. To wake up next to me every morning and fall asleep next to me every night and figure out the rest as we go.”
Tears prick at my eyes again. Happy ones this time.
“Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Yes, I’ll stay. Yes, I’ll build something with you. Yes, I’ll wake up next to you and fall asleep next to you and eat lumpy oatmeal with you every morning.”
His smile could light up the whole city.
“I love you, Katie Brooks.”
“I love you too, Henry Wilson.”
He kisses me again, soft and full of promise.