Chapter 33
33
HARPER
T he first thing I feel is his hot breath against the back of my neck.
It’s the kind of morning where the light hasn’t quite figured out how to fully fill the room, where everything is still covered in a golden hush. The sheets are tangled around us, half slipped down my hips, and his arm is heavy over my waist. One of his legs is hooked lazily around mine, his body curved protectively behind me—like even in sleep, he’s making sure I don’t drift too far.
The world could be ending outside those windows, and I wouldn’t know. I wouldn’t care.
I lie there for a moment without moving, afraid if I shift even a little, the spell I’m under might break. My fingers find the inside of his forearm and trace the edge of his tattoo. I don’t need to see it to know exactly where the inked curves of the Calloway Diamond logo are. I’ve memorized every inch of him by now, not just with my hands, but with something deeper. I could close my eyes and still see the tattoos on his shoulder, the scruff on his jaw, and the base of his throat, where his breath catches when I kiss it.
There’s a weight in my chest that’s unfamiliar, but it isn’t heavy. It’s full. Not the kind of fullness that comes from fear or adrenaline or barely surviving, but the kind that settles in after everything else has moved out of our way—the noise, the tension, the ghosts.
Brody shifts behind me, his arm tightening around me just a little, like some part of him senses I’m awake. I smile, not turning yet, letting the silence linger for a little longer. But then he drags his nose along my shoulder, then presses his mouth into my hair, and I can’t pretend anymore.
I roll onto my back, and his blue eyes that hold a new sense of calm find mine right away. He’s barely awake. His dark hair is a mess, but he smiles like he was dreaming of me. That adorable Calloway smirk seems to undo me every time.
“Hi,” I whisper, brushing a thumb across the stubble on his cheek.
“Hey,” he says. He blinks once, then again, like he’s making sure I’m real.
There’s no rush to move, no need to fill the quiet. He leans in and kisses me, his lips brushing mine with a kind of longing that doesn’t ask for anything. It just is.
When we pull apart, he sighs against my cheek and whispers, “Mornings are always better when they start with you.”
I laugh. “That was dangerously close to romantic.”
He smirks, one eye still half shut. “Don’t get used to it.”
I reach toward him, tickling him, and he giggles and tries to wiggle away. Then I see him make a face like he’s in pain, and I immediately feel guilty.
“Aww, I’m sorry,” I tell him, placing my hand over the curves of his abs. “I’ll owe you one.”
“Thanks,” he says, cocky and macho, like he didn’t just giggle like a kid.
I let my fingers wander through the mess of his hair, smiling when he hums with satisfaction.
“Your touch feels so good.”
He’s warm and completely relaxed, and it’s such a contrast to the man who walked into my life, guarded and tense, ready to burn down the world for me. I can’t help but stare at him for a moment longer, memorizing the way he looks when he doesn’t think anyone’s watching.
I’ve never felt this safe. Not just physically, but in the space between us. In the quiet that always terrified me, but with him, it feels like home.
For the first time, I don’t feel like I have to get up and outrun something because there’s nowhere I need to be other than here with him, in his arms. We lie in the quiet, in the steady truth of us, and I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be, where I belong.
“Coffee?” he asks.
“God, yes,” I tell him as he slides out of bed, putting on those old joggers I’ve kept since I was seventeen. I’m unable to take my eyes off him. “Hate to watch you go, but damn.”
“Keep it up, and we’ll stay here all day.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time!” I tell him as he comes and steals another quick kiss.
His strong palm rests on my cheek, and when he pulls away, he’s grinning.
When it’s just me, alone in the silence of the morning, I stare up at the ceiling, smiling so wide that it hurts, that this is my life. I’m living the dream.
The strong aroma of dark roast pulls me out of bed, and I slide on a T-shirt and some tiny shorts. The scent drifts down the hallway like a promise. The city is just starting to stretch awake outside the penthouse windows.
Brody’s in the kitchen, back to me, standing over the coffee machine with a level of concentration that makes me smile. His shoulders are relaxed, his hair still a mess from sleep, and the faint bruising on his back is obvious.
I just watch him for a few seconds, admiring every strong inch of him.
Brody showed up for me when my life was falling apart and held the pieces together like they were something worth saving. He helped me without asking for anything in return because he felt I was worth it.
When he finally turns, there’s a softness in his blue eyes that he’s always reserved just for me. It’s private, like the way he touches me when he thinks I’m asleep or how he watches me when he doesn’t think I’m looking. It’s the small things he does, that are louder than his words ever could be. His actions speak for him.
“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” he says, holding up a mug. “I added a splash of cream. Hope it’s enough.”
I accept the cup with a soft smile.
He places a kiss on my forehead and grins. “Let me know if it tastes like jet fuel because that roast is dark as fuck.”
I act offended, cradling the mug in both hands, letting the heat soak into my fingers. “You’re cute.”
“Just cute?” he asks, sipping his own and leaning against the counter.
His eyes scan me—bare legs, messy hair, sleepy eyes—and something shifts in his gaze. Not hunger, not lust, just pure admiration. It’s the look that says he sees me. I don’t have to perform or be polished. I can just be.
I sit on the stool beside him and hold the cup tight. “You have plans today?”
He nods. “I’m meeting with Easton and Weston to discuss me leaving.”
“You’re serious?”
“Yeah. Guess it’s time to be a trust-fund baby,” he says with a smirk, tilting his head toward me. “About time, right?”
I laugh. “What will you do in your free time?”
“You,” he says, shooting me a wink. “I honestly haven’t thought much about it. Maybe I’ll volunteer for the Wounded Warrior Project. I just want to live for once in my life.” He moves toward me and dips down to kiss me. “I have you to thank for that.”
There’s a beat of quiet between us then. Not awkward. Not heavy. Just stillness. And in that stillness, I realize how easy this feels. How natural. Like our lives have already started folding into each other without either of us noticing.
“You’re welcome,” I tell him, waggling my brows. “I will keep you plenty busy.”
I sip my coffee and let the warmth settle low in my belly as my eyes slide over him. Strong and sexy.
Brody Calloway is a walking fantasy, and he’s mine. Forever.
His fingers brush a strand of hair away from my cheek. “You’re so pretty.”
“You are too,” I tell him.
Then he kisses me once, with certainty, and pulls back just enough to smile. “Let’s go house-hunting. Something that’s ours. That holds no memories of anything else. A place for our new beginning.”
“I’d love that,” I tell him, a grin taking over. “Moving kinda fast, huh, Calloway?”
His grin widens. “First comes love.”
I can’t help the smile that touches my lips, knowing this is true happiness.
“Now, I have to go meet my asshole cousins and let them make jokes for an hour,” he says.
“Going like that?” I look him up and down.
He tilts his head at me. “What do you think they’d say if I walked into Calloway Diamonds headquarters like this?”
“You’d better not. I don’t need my future husband being splashed around gossip magazines. Do you know how many spank banks you’d be added to? Absolutely not.”
Laughter roars out of him. “I always forget you were the jealous type.”
“Pfft, speak for yourself,” I tell him, standing to capture his lips again. “But I am jealous. You’re mine. And only mine. I’m willing to fight.”
“Fuck,” he whispers across my mouth. “Hot.”
“You should text Lexi. I bet she’d happily give you some of Easton’s clothes. See if he notices when you show up in one of his tailored suits.”
He nods, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Good idea.”
Brody, Weston, and Easton are basically the same size. However, Brody is more muscular.
His phone vibrates, and he shows me the text.
Lexi
Only if you take a picture of his face when you walk in.
He types back to her.
Brody
Deal.
Brody chugs the rest of his coffee, leaving a warm kiss on my lips as he heads toward the door. “I’ll be back very soon. An hour, tops. Love you.”
I grin. “Love you.”
I watch him walk away, and this time, it doesn’t come with the fear that he won’t return. It comes with the steady truth that he always will.
I’m mid-sip when a knock rings on my door. I move to the door, half expecting to see Brody, wondering if he forgot something. I look in the peephole and see Billie.
I pull it open and smile. “Good morning.”
“Morning!”
She steps inside, holding a small white box in both hands, her oversize sunglasses pushed to the top of her head, jet-black hair perfectly disheveled in that effortless bob only she can manage. Her expression is casual, but there’s a buzz to her—something under the surface, like she’s carrying more than what fits inside the box.
“I brought you something,” she says by way of greeting. Which, to be fair, she’s done many times before.
I arch a brow and close the door behind her. “No Asher in tow?”
“Nah. I just saw Brody in the elevator, and he told me you’d taken the morning off since you had been kidnapped,” she says with a wink.
“Okay, I wasn’t technically kidnapped,” I say. “Actually, when we tell the story to our kids, let’s keep that one. Going with that psycho of my own free will isn’t as exciting.”
She cracks a smile and hands me the box. I open it to find a silk sleep mask, embroidered in metallic gold thread that says Nap Queen.
I snort, laughter bubbling up before I can stop it. “Okay, this is on-brand.”
“Right?” She smirks, sinking onto the edge of my sofa. “Saw it in a boutique window and immediately thought, That’s Harp .”
I set the box on the counter and lean against it, studying her. She’s trying too hard to look casual, like she didn’t come here with an agenda. There’s a softness in her shoulders that makes me pause.
“What’s going on?” I ask, reading her easily.
She knows me better than I know myself at times, and the feeling is mutual.
She exhales through her nose. “Nothing. I mean, it’s something, but not dramatic.”
“Everything okay?” I wait impatiently.
“Yes.” Finally, she looks up at me, eyes wide and a little too shiny. “Asher and I are engaged.”
For a second, the words don’t register. They hover in the air between us, and I blink at her like I misheard.
“What? Oh my God! That’s incredible! Like, it just happened?”
Her smile somewhat falters. “No. Weeks now. I just hadn’t told you yet.”
My gaze drops automatically to her hands. No ring. It confuses me, and she gives me a half-hearted shrug.
“I stopped wearing it until you knew. Everything got too complicated. Micah. You. The timing was off. It just never felt like the right moment.”
Guilt surges through me, knowing I’m the reason she hasn’t celebrated. “When did this happen?”
“The week before you got engaged to Micah, when we were in the Hamptons,” she says. “Before everything.”
My stomach twists. I think of the whirlwind that followed and how quickly everything spun out of control. My own pain became the loudest thing in the room, and I cover my mouth with one hand. “I’m so sorry. I ruined that for you.”
“No.” She shakes her head immediately, fingers reaching for mine. “You didn’t ruin anything. I was never waiting for the perfect announcement or the headline. I have him. And I have you. That’s all I’ll ever care about.”
Emotion swells in my throat and it’s too thick to swallow. I blink hard, trying to keep the tears from falling, but they visit anyway.
I squeeze her hand. “I’m so happy for you. Genuinely. You deserve real love. I’d love to celebrate with you.”
She hugs me tight, then pulls away. “Now it’s your turn.”
I smile wide. “One day. Soon.”
“Yeah?” she asks, giddy with excitement. “Harper Calloway. Has a ring to it, doesn’t it?”
Her laughter is completely contagious.
“Seems like dreams are actually coming true,” she says.
“We’re both exactly where we’re supposed to be,” I confirm.
There’s a silence between us that doesn’t feel empty. Billie doesn’t look away, and neither do I.
“I remember when you used to write Harper Calloway on everything. My brothers were assholes, but Brody … match made in heaven.”
I’ve never been more grateful for her than I am at this exact moment.
“I’m sorry for missing your birthday,” I finally say, realizing we broke our tradition of having a shot of tequila together. “Micah wouldn’t le?—”
“No more apologies, okay? I’m just so damn grateful you’re still here to celebrate the rest of them with me,” she says. “No more survival mode. No more judgment. Only understanding. We’re moving forward, not backward.”
My eyes burn, and I blink fast, but it’s no use. Tears, full of understanding and gratitude, fall anyway, sliding down my cheeks like they’ve been waiting for permission. I wipe at them with the sleeve of my T-shirt, laughing under my breath.
“I’m about to start my period. Forgive me. I’m emotional as fuck.”
Billie reaches over and squeezes my hand. “I get it. I kinda owe you a thank-you. Since Asher and I haven’t been public, we’ve been able to enjoy our engagement without the media speculating and starting shit. It always works out just the way it’s supposed to.”
I nod, my voice caught in my throat. “It does.”
She smiles and laughs, and it reaches her blue eyes—the same color blue each of the Calloways has. “I still can’t believe after everything Asher and I have been through, I’m marrying him. He’s still a gigantic pain in my ass, but I love him.”
Laughter bursts out of me. “I’m glad you have someone who challenges you. Don’t see you being with anyone who would just roll over and do what you say.”
I don’t know how long we sit in the kitchen, chatting about everything that has happened or our relationships. At some point, I end up making a second cup of coffee, and before I finish it, there’s a light tap on the door. Billie glances at me with brows raised, and I shrug.
I open the door, and Brody places a kiss on my lips.
“You’re back already?” I ask, glancing at the clock realizing I’ve been chatting with Billie for nearly an hour.
“It was a ten-minute conversation with twenty minutes of shit talking.”
I smirk and take a step back, drinking him in. “Damn. Gucci looks good on you.”
“This suit pissed Easton off beyond belief. Worth it,” he says as he lifts a brown paper bag from the bakery I love that’s close to Calloway Diamonds headquarters. He stops when he sees Billie. “You’re still here?”
She shrugs. “Had a lot of catching up to do.”
He sets the bag on the counter, and when I glance at him, he winks, mouthing, You okay?
The smile that spreads across my face feels unshakable—a confirmation that, everything is perfect. I’ve finally found balance in my life.
He’s trying to act casual and failing miserably at it. He searches Billie’s face, then mine, then glances at the box I still haven’t moved off the counter. “I can leave if I’m interrupting.”
Billie shakes her head. “You’re not; Harper knows the good news about the engagement.”
Brody’s eyebrows lift with practiced effort. He gives a mock gasp. “Wait. You’re engaged?” The way he says it is a beat too slow.
I don’t even bother hiding my smile as I glance at him. “You’re a terrible liar.”
A small breath releases from him as his eyes crinkle at the corners. “The main reason why I stick to telling you the truth.”
Billie whips around to face him, eyes wide. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell her. Wow. Even I’m impressed.”
He shrugs unapologetically. “It wasn’t my news to share.”
Billie stares at him for another second before a smile breaks across her face. “The two of you are perfect together.”
“I try,” he says, pulling pastries out of the bag, one by one, like he’s done this a dozen times before. “The cinnamon rolls are still warm.”
“Ooh, my favorite,” Billie says, reaching for one without hesitation.
I lean back against the counter, watching them both, realizing this is my life. Brody catches my eye and gives me the smallest nod. Everything really does feel okay now, and without having to say it out loud, I know it is.
“When are you proposing?” Billie directly asks him.
Brody’s brows furrow. “Fuck off.”
She scoffs. “No way to treat your favorite cousin.”
He shrugs. “I dunno. Seems like Weston is taking the number one spot these days.”
Billie actually looks offended as she snags a turnover and makes her way to the door. “I won’t stop asking until you do it.” She glances at me. “Got your back, Harp.”
I giggle as she opens the door and leaves with a sassy swing to her hips. I turn to Brody, looking him up and down.
“Like what you see?” He adjusts the tie.
“I kinda want to peel that off of you with my teeth.”
I watch him as he moves toward me, completely unhurried, unbothered, and at ease here, like he’s always belonged. Maybe he has. Maybe this is the version of me that I was always meant to be. He runs his fingers through my hair and meets my eyes.
“How did it go?” I ask.
“Great. They were super supportive and very happy for us.”
He dips down and captures my lips, taking his time as our tongues twist together. He moans against me, and I melt into him fully. My eyes flutter open, and I stare into his blues.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks, voice low.
I tilt my head, resting it on his shoulder. “How surreal this feels.”
He presses a kiss to the top of my head and pulls me in closer, like he understands exactly what I mean. I close my eyes, holding him, and let myself feel this beautiful thing we’ve built in the aftermath. It’s not perfect. It’s not polished. But it’s ours.
I no longer feel like I’m dreaming. No, I’ve finally woken up.