Chapter 32 Pierce #2
“I saw you walk away with two champagne glasses in the same direction I’d noticed Pierce go before we started dancing.” Noah’s smile is insufferably smug. “You had that look on your face. The one you get when you’re about to do something chaotic.”
“Wait.” Thatcher stares at his cousin. “Is that why you got me the job at VSE?”
Noah shrugs. “I waited six months for one of you to say something. Eventually, I figured maybe you never exchanged names, or maybe nothing even happened.”
“Oh, something happened all right,” Thatcher says proudly, sitting up straighter. “Something definitely happened.”
“We don’t need details,” Lex says quickly.
“Speak for yourself,” Adam chimes in. “I want all the details.”
“I have all the details,” Alli says with a face that’s the definition of smug.
I try to look annoyed about the intrusion, but secretly, warmth blooms in my chest. This is what family looks like: chaotic, inappropriate, and full of love. Something I never had with my own family.
Thatcher, however, is not amused. “I hate all of you,” he declares. “I just got my boyfriend back, and you’re already interrupting.”
“Boyfriend?” Alli clutches her chest dramatically. “It’s official!”
Thatcher groans, but I can see the happiness beneath his frustration. He turns to me, a calculating look in his eyes.
“Does anyone have a key to your place?”
“No,” I say, confused by the sudden change in topic.
“Good.” Thatcher nods decisively. “I’m moving in.”
The room goes silent. Thatcher’s eyes widen as he realizes what he just said.
“I mean—that came out wrong—I didn’t mean to just invite myself—”
I wrap my arms around his waist and pull him against my chest, silencing his rambling with a kiss. When I pull back, I’m smiling.
“I would love for you to move in with me,” I say. “On one condition.”
“What?”
“You help me redecorate. Bring some color to the place.”
“No,” his cousins say in unison.
I blink at them. “Why not?”
“You clearly haven’t been in Thatcher’s bathroom recently,” Lex says gravely.
“It’s like a Smurf exploded in there,” Adam adds. “I’m surprised you can’t smell it.”
“There’s paint on the ceiling,” Noah finishes. “The ceiling, Pierce. Your apartment will never survive Meatball.”
Thatcher buries his face in my chest, groaning. “I hate my family.”
“I love your family,” I counter, pressing a kiss to his hair. “But I do have one question.”
“What’s that?”
I look at the crowd still gathered in the doorway. “What exactly do you all want, besides this bizarre hazing ritual?”
“Family dinner,” River says. “Lusitana. Tonight. Jack and Carla are expecting everyone.”
“And by everyone,” Lior adds with a pointed look at me, “they mean you too, Pierce. You’re family now.”
The words hit me harder than expected. Family. A real one, messy and loud and full of people who barge into bedrooms unannounced. People who kidnap you with bags over your head and then welcome you with open arms.
“We’ll be there,” I say, my voice rough with emotion.
“Good.” Noah claps his hands. “Now get dressed. Dinner’s in two hours, and Thatcher takes forever in the bathroom.”
“I do not—”
“The bath bomb incident,” the cousins chorus.
“It was supposed to be relaxing!” Thatcher protests.
“You used six at once and the tub overflowed with foam,” Lex points out.
“And stained yourself purple for a week,” Adam adds.
“They were small! I thought you needed more than one!”
As they file out, still bickering and laughing, Thatcher turns to me with an apologetic smile.
“Sorry about them. They’re a lot.”
“They’re perfect,” I say, pulling him close. “Just like you.”
“I love you,” he says, kissing me softly. “Now let’s grab a shower and get ready before they come back with reinforcements.”
As we untangle ourselves from the sheets, I catch sight of Thatcher’s half-painted bathroom through the open door. Blue paint streaks the walls in chaotic patterns, and yes, there’s definitely paint on the ceiling.
“On second thought,” I say, “maybe I should handle the redecorating.”
Thatcher throws a pillow at my head, but he’s laughing.
I catch the pillow and pull him close, pressing a kiss to his temple. “You know what I was thinking about earlier?”
“Mmm?”
“That night at the wedding. When I followed a stranger into a bathroom and let him take me apart completely.” I tilt his chin so I can see his eyes. “I spent months thinking it was the biggest mistake of my life. Unprofessional. Reckless. Completely out of character.”
“And now?”
“Now I realize it was the best mistake I ever made.” I kiss him softly. “Every disaster you’ve caused, every ant invasion, every fire alarm, every chaotic moment that turned my perfectly ordered life upside down—they were all leading us here.”
Thatcher’s eyes are suspiciously bright. “So you’re saying I’m a Picture Perfect Mistake?”
“You’re my Picture Perfect Mistake,” I correct. “And I wouldn’t change a single thing.”
Thatcher pulls me down for a kiss that tastes like promises and forever. When we finally break apart, his smile could light up the entire city.
“Come on,” he says, tugging me toward the bathroom. “We have a family dinner to get to.”
I follow him out of the bedroom, my hand firmly clasped in his.
This is my life now. Chaos and color and a man who turned every mistake into something beautiful.
I wouldn’t have it any other way.