Chapter 36
The Reveal
Leo
The envelope sits on Sage’s counter like it’s mocking me. The words Move-in Ready are stamped clean across the front—neat, impersonal, final. She runs a finger along the edge of it, her smile polite but fragile, the kind that hides the sting.
“So,” she says lightly, setting it down. “Looks like you’ll be heading home.”
I should say yes. I should make it easy, tell her I’ll move back in tomorrow and we’ll figure out the rest later. But something in her voice—the tiny break she tries to cover—makes my chest tighten.
I don’t want to leave. Not the apartment. Not her.
“Come with me,” I say before I can second-guess it.
Her head lifts fast, eyes narrowing like she’s not sure she heard me right. “What?”
I roll my shoulders, letting out a sharp breath, the tension running down my spine like static before I find the words. “Just… Come with me. You’ll see.”
Sage studies me, the crease between her brows deepening. “Leo, it’s late—”
“I know,” I cut in. “But I need to show you something.”
She hesitates, glancing at the envelope again, then back at me. The air between us hums, charged and uncertain. Finally, she nods. “Okay.”
The elevator ride is quiet, the hum of the cables filling the silence we can’t quite touch.
My pulse drums in my ears, matching the rhythm of the ascent.
I’ve pictured this moment for weeks—how she’d react, what she’d say—but now that it’s happening, all that certainty feels like smoke.
What if it’s too much? What if she hates it?
What if she thinks it’s me trying to buy her instead of build something with her?
When the elevator dings and the doors slide open, I step aside to let her out first.
She takes one step into the penthouse and stops cold.
It’s not what it used to be—gone are the gray marble countertops, the chrome fixtures, the glass that reflected nothing but its own emptiness.
The kitchen glows under warm pendant lights now.
Butcher-block counters. Double ovens. Copper pans hanging from a simple rack that catches the light like soft fire.
Handmade pottery lines the open shelves, earthy and imperfect.
Sage’s hand goes to her mouth. “You… did this?”
I swallow hard and nod. “You said a kitchen should feel alive.” My voice comes out rougher than I mean it to. “So I made it feel like you.”
She doesn’t move for a long moment. Just takes it in—the warmth, the color, the space that finally feels human. Then her gaze lands on the far corner of the room.
The filming setup—small but perfect. Countertop lights, soft backdrop, everything ready for her to cook, create, teach. The sign above it reads, in simple lettering: Fuel Your Fire.
Her voice wavers when she finally speaks. “You built this… for me.”
My throat tightens, but I manage a nod. “For us.”
And then she turns, eyes glassy but blazing with something fierce and certain.
Before I can take another breath, she crosses the space between us and kisses me.
The kiss starts soft—hesitant, like she’s still afraid this could all vanish if she blinks. But then her hands find the front of my shirt, clutching tight, and it changes. The air between us burns. Weeks of restraint snap like a wire pulled too thin.
I sink into it, into her. Her lips part, her breath hot against my mouth, her pulse quick under my fingers as I trace the curve of her neck. The taste of her—warm, sharp, alive—wipes every thought from my head.
She presses closer, her body fitting against mine like she’s meant to be here, like this space was always waiting for her to claim it. The faint hum of the fridge, the flicker of city lights through the glass—every sound fades until there’s only her.
When we break apart for air, she doesn’t move far. Her forehead rests against mine, breath shaking. “You built this for me,” she whispers again, voice cracking on the last word.
I shake my head, brushing my thumb along her jaw. “No, Sage. I built it because of you. Because I needed this place to mean something again.”
Her eyes shine, wet and fierce. “Leo…”
Whatever she was about to say disappears as I kiss her again. This time it’s hungry, desperate, all the emotion we’ve both been holding back spilling out in one long, impossible rush.
We move through the kitchen like we’re learning it together—bumping the counter, knocking into a stool, laughing breathlessly between kisses that leave us both dizzy.
Her fingers find the back of my neck, tangling in my hair, and I can’t stop touching her—her hips, her waist, the hem of her shirt as my palms find warm skin.
Her laughter melts into a low sound that twists my insides, and when I lift her onto the counter, she looks at me like I’ve just handed her the whole damn world.
“You sure?” I murmur, voice rough, giving her one last out.
She nods, eyes steady. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
Sage's legs tightened around my waist, a heartbeat of hesitation flickering between us before it vanished.
One last breath of uncertainty gives way to the warmth flooding through me, her grip like a promise I have no intention of breaking.
Her lips, swollen and red from my kisses, parted as she whispered my name, her voice a husky plea that sent a jolt of desire straight to my core.
"Leo," she breathed, her green eyes smoldering with a hunger that mirrored my own.
My hands slide under her thighs. I lift her as if she weighs nothing, and her arms wrap around my neck. Her body is warm and soft, fitting against mine like a missing piece.
I carry her to the kitchen island, the cool granite a stark contrast to the heat radiating between us.
Setting her down, I step back, my eyes never leaving hers as I tear off my shirt, the fabric discarded without a second thought.
Her gaze devours me, bold and unapologetic, and I feel a surge of pride under her scrutiny.
"You’re so fucking beautiful," I growl, my voice rough with need.
I move closer, my hands gripping the waistband of her jeans, pulling them down her curvy hips.
Her panties follow, leaving her bare and exposed, her pussy glistening with anticipation.
I press my thumb against her, feeling her shudder at the contact, her breath catching in her throat.
"So wet for me," I murmur, my voice a low rumble. "You like this, don’t you?"
She bites her lip, her eyes fluttering closed as she nodded. "Yes," she whispers, her hands fumbling with my belt. "Fuck, Leo, hurry."
I kick off my shoes, my pants joining them on the floor, I am desperate for her.
I step closer, her legs falling open to accommodate me, her heat beckoning.
I tease her entrance with the tip, watching her eyes flutter closed as she whimpers, her body arching toward me.
"Please," she begs, her voice trembling.
"Not yet," I whisper, my control slipping. I lean in, capturing her lips in a deep, hungry kiss, our tongues tangling as my fingers find her clit, rubbing slow circles that make her buck against my hand. "Tell me what you want, Sage."
"I want you to fuck me," she gasp, her nails digging into my shoulders. "Right here. Right now."
That was all I needed. I push into her slowly, savoring the heat and the way she fits around me, letting the moment stretch instead of rushing it.
She cries out, her head falling back as I begin to move, slow at first, savoring the way she felt around me.
All I care about is the way her body moves with mine, the way her breath hitches with every stroke.
"Harder," she demands, her hands gripping my hair.
I oblige, pounding into her with a rhythm that was primal, relentless. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with her moans and my curses. Her pussy clenches around me, milking my cock. I know she is close. "Cum for me, Sage," I groan, my voice hoarse. "Let me feel it."
Her body trembles, her walls tightening as she screams my name, her orgasm ripping through her. I follow soon after, my own release crashing over me like a wave, my cum spilling deep inside her. I collapse on top of her, our breaths ragged, our hearts pounding in unison.
As I pull out, she smiles, her hand tracing the sweat on my chest. "You built this for me," she whispers, her voice soft but sure.
I kissed her forehead, my lips brushing her hair. "I built it for us."
The city lights flicker outside, but inside, the kitchen feels alive—just like her. And as her fingers lace with mine, I know this is only the beginning.
We stay like that for a moment, catching our breath, the silence between us comfortable and charged.
I could feel her heart beating against my chest, a rhythm that matches my own.
Slowly, I lifted my head, my eyes meeting hers, and I see something in her gaze that I hadn’t seen before—a vulnerability that mirrors my own.
"Sage," I whisper, my thumb brushing her cheek. "What we have... it’s more than just this, isn’t it?"
She hesitates, her eyes searching mine, before nodding slowly. "Yes," she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. "It’s more. So much more."
I smiled, a genuine, unrestrained smile that feels foreign on my lips. "Good," I said, pulling her closer. "Because I’m not letting you go."
She laughs, a soft, breathy sound that makes my chest tighten. "I’m not going anywhere," she promises, her hand tightening around mine.
We stay like that for a while longer, lost in each other, the world outside fading away. The kitchen, once just a space, now feels like ours—a sanctuary where we can be vulnerable, where we can be real. And as I hold her, I know that whatever challenges lay ahead, we’d face them together.
Eventually, I help her down from the island, her legs still a little shaky. She leans against me, her head on my chest, as I wrap my arms around her. "You know," she said, her voice teasing, "this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said I wanted to see your kitchen."
I chuckle, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Well, now you’ve seen it in all its glory."
"Mmm," she hums, looking up at me with a mischievous glint in her eye. "I think I’ll need a few more demonstrations to fully appreciate it."
I raise an eyebrow, a challenge in my gaze. "Oh, you’re asking for it now, aren’t you?"
She smirks, stepping back and taking my hand. "Always."
“You realize,” I whisper, “you’re never getting rid of me now.”
Her sleepy laugh curls against my skin. “Good,” she murmurs. “That’s exactly what I was hoping for.”