Chapter 47
Chapter forty-seven
Kate
The living room is in full preparation mode—bowls of M&Ms and chips lined up like soldiers, a stack of Monopoly money fanned across the coffee table, chance cards shuffled, property deeds squared, every game piece lined beside the board waiting to be claimed.
On the surface, it looks like any other Friday night.
But inside, my nerves flicker like loose wires.
Evie isn’t here, she packed a backpack this morning like she was leaving for college, marched into my mother’s house, and declared she “needed extra sleep for her birthday month.” Mom winked at me and said have fun tonight, which should have been a warning.
The woman smells emotional upheaval like fresh pie.
I walk into the kitchen to find Cam leaning into the counter as casually as if we aren’t about to detonate our relationship status in front of our closest friends. He hands me a glass of wine, and watches me for a beat that stretches warm across my skin.
“It’s just our friends, you don’t need to fuss this much.” He laughs.
“I don’t know why I’m so nervous.” I rub my thumb along the edge of the counter, trying to contain the restless energy building in my ribs. “They already know everything. They’re the people we spend the most time with. This shouldn’t feel like news.”
His hand comes down over mine. “Yeah,” he says gently, “but tonight isn’t about strategy or custody anymore.” He waits until I meet his eyes. “Tonight we tell them that we’re in this because we want each other. Because we’re in love.”
My heart trips over itself.
“They love both of us,” he continues, thumb stroking across my knuckles. “They love Evie. And they already love us together. We’re just giving them the truth they’ve been waiting to hear.”
Before I can reply, a knock rattles the door, and I swear every nerve in my spine sits up straight.
Game night has officially begun.
Kinsey bursts through first like chaos in leggings, holding a two-liter of Dr Pepper over her head as if it’s the Stanley Cup. Levi trails behind her with his seven-layer dip.
“Okay, where’s the race car?” Kinsey demands, already toeing off her shoes and rifling through the game pieces. “I want to exploit capitalism in style.”
“Hi, Kinsey,” I say dryly.
She kisses my cheek, steals an M&M on her way past, and drops cross-legged to the floor. “Love you, bestie. Give me the keys to the empire.”
Next through the door are Brynn and Knox—joined like magnets. Brynn holds brownies. Knox holds a grocery bag with paper plates and plastic forks.
Within minutes, the room fills with familiar noise—pieces clinking, dice hitting the board, Kinsey narrating strategies nobody asked for.
Levi insists on counting his money twice before the game begins.
Brynn complains that she should get Boardwalk as a wedding present.
Knox casually buys two railroads before anyone blinks.
We fall into an easy rhythm filled with laughter, bargains, and affectionate trash-talk.
Brynn and Kinsey argue over Community Chest. Levi micromanages bank loans.
Knox pretends he’s above the chaos until he charges us all railroad rent.
For a few minutes, I let myself soak in this chosen family, this ridiculous game, this man sitting close enough for his knee to press warm against mine.
Then the moment shifts. When it’s my turn, I set my dice down. My fingers tremble once, barely noticeable, unless you’re looking.
Cam sees it though and places a hand on my back.
“We have something to tell you,” I say, steadying my voice even as my pulse skitters wildly beneath it.
Four heads lift.
Kinsey’s eyes widen instantly. “Oh my God, are you pregnant?”
Levi nearly aspirates a pretzel. Knox mutters a quiet Jesus. Brynn places a calming hand over Kinsey’s mouth, though it does nothing to stop the energy now vibrating through the room.
Cam sits forward, hands clasped, calm in a way that makes me want to lean into him forever. “Sorry to disappoint, Kinsey, but no, not pregnant.”
“We’re in love.”
No one moves. Even the stupid dog token looks like it’s frozen in anticipation.
I take a breath. “This isn’t just for the custody case anymore,” I say, voice softer now, almost shy. “Somewhere between lawyers and bedtime stories and trying to figure out who we are together…things stopped feeling like an agreement.”
Cam turns to me and when he speaks, his voice holds nothing but truth. “We fell in love.”
The room breaks open.
Kinsey screams first, launching herself across the carpet like a caffeinated koala. “I knew this would happen, you beautiful fools!”
Levi grabs her by the back of her sweatshirt and pulls her off me while she kicks like a toddler. “Give the woman oxygen, Kinsey. Good God.”
Brynn stands and wraps me in a hug. She presses her cheek to mine and whispers, “I’m so happy for you, Kate. I love this for you and Evie.”
Knox claps Cam on the back like he’s proud and amused in equal measure. “Happy for you, man.”
For the next thirty minutes, the room is a hurricane of questions and celebration.
Everyone wants the story. We’re drilled about when it flipped, who confessed first, whether Haddie Carmichael knows (she doesn’t, and we are living on borrowed time).
Kinsey threatens to design a bridal jumpsuit.
Brynn volunteers to officiate and Levi immediately vetoes.
Knox says he’ll stand wherever we need him.
And through it all, Cam is beside me, knee pressed to mine, hand on my thigh, expression soft.
When the game finally resumes, nobody remembers whose turn it is. No one cares. We trade stories, laugh too loud, and pass the M&Ms until the wine tells us to break out the brownies.
Hours later, when the last goodbye is said and the door finally clicks shut, the house falls into quiet again. We sit on the couch, looking at the coffee table where Monopoly lays abandoned.
Cam rests his arm behind me, fingertips brushing my shoulder. “Our friends are crazy, but I love them,” he says.
I lean into him, letting my head fall to where his heartbeat waits steady under my cheek.
“Same. I thought Kinsey was going to take me out there for a minute.” I laugh. “But it felt good.”
His lips brush my temple. Gentle first, then surer when I don’t pull away. “Good is too small a word for this,” he says against my skin.
I tilt my face toward him, eyes meeting his. “It is isn’t it?”
He answers, not with words, but by curling his hand around the back of my neck and guiding my mouth to his. The kiss unfolds slowly, and as his thumb sweeps under my jaw, something inside me loosens, like a knot pulled free.
He matches my pace. His other hand slides over my waist, not demanding, just memorizing the shape of my hips beneath his fingertips. “Kate,” he whispers, and I feel it in my bones. “I want you.”
There is no hesitation left in me. “Take me to bed, Cam.”
He rises slowly, one hand still at the nape of my neck. When I stand with him, my chest grazes his, and the small contact charges the air between us.
He walks me toward the bedroom, kissing me between steps—small, lingering kisses that make the hallway feel longer and shorter at the same time.
By the time we cross the threshold, my fingers are curled lightly in his shirt, pulling him with me.
Once we’re through the door, he brushes my hair behind my ear, slow enough to make my knees threaten mutiny.
“Here’s what’s going to happen, Katie.” His dark eyes scan my face before kissing my shoulder.
“I want to taste every inch of your skin. Then, you’re going to lie on your back, spread your perfect legs and you’re going to come on my tongue.
” His voice is deep enough to pin me in place.
“Lastly, I want to slide into you and fuck you so slow and deep that you lose your mind and beg me to let you come again.”
All I can do is nod as his mouth finds mine as his hands slide down my ribs, thumbs pressing lightly under my breasts, and it steals a sound from me I didn’t know I could make.
He lifts my shirt, discarding it to the floor.
We both fumble with the buttons of our pants.
My fingers pull at the hem of his shirt and he lets me lift it over his head, muscles flexing under my palms.
God. He’s beautiful.
He cups my jaw, walks me backward until the backs of my knees touch the mattress. Then he lowers me down slowly, gaze never leaving mine.
His hands smooth over my stomach, up my sides, to the clasp of my bra. “Can I?” he asks.
I nod. The straps slide loose, and when he pushes the fabric away, he grazes his nose along my neck, breathing me in.
He lowers his mouth to my breast, tongue circling a nipple until it peaks for him, and I arch against him. His hand cradles my other breast, thumb stroking the tip while his mouth works the first. Heat pools low and heavy, pulsing between my legs.
“Cam…”
He lifts his head, pushing up to look at me. “I love you, Katie. So fucking much.”
The way his breath breaks threatens my eyes with tears. “I love you too, Cam.”
He marks an X above my heart. “Cross my heart?”
I glide my fingers along the skin of his pec. “Cross my heart.”
He smiles sweetly before placing a light kiss to my lips. Then he sits back and his fingers hook into my shorts and underwear at once, pulling them down inch by inch—like undressing me is as intimate as touching me. When I’m bare beneath him, something inside me softens.
He looks at me and his voice drops. “Kate, spread your legs for me.”
My knees part, body open and wanting. He kneels at the edge of the bed, hands sliding up my thighs until his thumbs brush the slick heat of my center. I gasp, and the smile that spreads on his lips is wicked.
“So wet for me.”
He leans in and his mouth replaces his thumbs, tongue stroking up the length of me with agonizing patience. My hips lift off the sheets. He holds them down, flattening my thighs with strong hands.
“Let me take my time,” he whispers before his tongue dives back in.
Slow circles. Long strokes. Then flicks to my clit that send electric heat shooting through every nerve of my body.
“Oh—Cam—”
He hums against me, tongue stroking with a rhythm that builds and builds and builds until I’m gripping the sheets, thighs shaking, breath gone.
“Look at me when you fall apart,” he says against my skin.
My eyes lock on his until I can barely breath and the orgasm rips through me, sharp and deep, pleasure curling my toes and tightening my stomach until I break with a cry that sounds like his name.
He doesn’t stop. He licks me through every aftershock, gentle now, savoring me.
When he finally moves up my body, his mouth finds mine and I taste myself on his tongue. His cock presses against my thigh and I wrap my legs around his hips.
“I need you inside me,” I whisper into his mouth.
He lines himself up, sliding slowly through my entrance, inch by inch until he’s seated fully inside me, deep enough to knock the air from my lungs.
“Oh my God—”
He’s thick, filling me perfectly, stretching me until pleasure borders on pain and then melts into something molten and consuming.
Cam’s voice is rough in my ear. “You’re mine, aren’t you, Katie?”
He thrusts slowly at first, letting me feel every inch of him moving through me. My back arches, chest to his, arms pulling him in close. His hand cups the back of my head, the other grips my thigh and lifts it higher, angling me open.
His hips roll into me deeper. Stronger. Like he knows exactly where I need him.
“Yes, Cam, I’m yours. Fuck, you’re so deep.”
“It’s never deep enough with you.”
His rhythm quickens, not frantic, just controlled and powerful, every movement built from wanting and purpose. Our bodies meet in a steady pulse that builds throughout my body, climbing fast. My nails dig into his shoulders and he groans, thrusting harder.
“Look at me,” he orders softly.
I look up, and I see love there, and it’s raw and beautiful.
It pushes me over the edge, my orgasm consuming me.
Pleasure crashes through me—hot, shaking, unstoppable—and I say his name as I come around him, body clenching tight. Cam follows with a broken sound at my throat, burying himself deep and spilling into me with a growl that vibrates through my soul.
He collapses onto me. Warm quiet settles again. His fingers lace with mine on the pillow.
And in that stillness, in the safety of his arms, I know I am loved. Deeply, truly loved.