Chapter Twenty Three The Unexpected
Chapter Twenty Three
The Unexpected
W
aking up the next morning, his words replay in my head like a broken record.
Move in together.
I must’ve knocked out right after he left, but apparently my brain worked the night shift, because now I’m lying here staring at the ceiling, replaying the entire conversation on loop. I can still see the look he gave me when he said it—so serious, so sure.
I keep turning it over in my head. If he moves in here, it’ll be the safest route. My space, my rules. Plus, Arina’s family owns this house, so if things ever go sideways—not manifesting that—at least I know I won’t be the one cramming my life into cardboard boxes.
I’ll still have the home-court advantage. And honestly, that’s the only version that even makes sense for me. Moving in with him isn’t an option—I didn’t say it last night, but that flag is bright red in my mind.
Dragging myself out of bed, I head for Arina’s door. She’s the only person who will lay it to me straight, even if it punches me in the gut.
After a few knocks, she cracks the door open—hair a tangled mess, shirt sliding off one shoulder, and bright royal-blue spandex that scream I literally just woke up.
“Bitch,” I sigh dramatically, leaning against the doorframe like the weight of my love life is physically holding me up, “Levy thinks we should move in together—well… him move in here.”
Her eyebrows shoot up like she just caught a plot twist. “Oh really? Mr. Romantic wants to move in with us?”
“As much as I love him,” I groan, sagging against her doorframe, “living with him at his place sounds like a one-way trip to hell. I’d much rather him move in here with us.
It’ll just feel… safer. But I don’t even know if that’s a good idea.
And to be real, it’s only happening if you’re cool with it.
If not, he’s staying exactly where he is.
Because it’s not giving me move-into-a-man’s-house energy. ”
Arina tilts her head, smirking like she’s flipping through all possible timelines. “Oh, absolutely. Let’s keep the power on our side for once. Besides, if he moves in here, I guess I can monitor y’all’s bullshit like the live-in best friend I never asked to be.”
I snort. “So you’re saying you’ll spy?”
“No. Just observe,” she says with mock seriousness. “And maybe judge quietly… or loudly, if necessary.”
I roll my eyes. “That’s fair enough.”
She yawns, stretching. “Look, I totally agree—I think it’s less complicated if he moves here too. Just make sure you’re sure. I don’t want to wake up to World War III in the hallway, hoe.”
“That’s the problem,” I admit, rubbing my temples. “I’m not completely sure… but I feel something. And maybe we can just try it. See how it goes. Worst-case scenario, we get free entertainment for a few weeks—and I get consistent sex.”
I pause. “And honestly… I really do love him and… I kind of want to see where this goes.”
Arina throws her head back, laughing. “Girl, it is too early for this conversation. But fine—if it doesn’t work, we can just kick him out. And my uncle will help. He damn near lives rent free anyway, it’s the least he can do.”
“Perfect,” I grin. “Teamwork makes the eviction work.”
She snorts, shaking her head. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And hey, it’s never too early for sex or sarcasm,” I say, pushing off her doorframe and heading back to my room—my heart annoyingly light because the thought of waking up next to him every day doesn’t scare me as much as my head is trying to scare me.
All thanks to Arina.
The last few months with Levy have been this quiet, steady bloom I didn’t even realize was happening. Being with him feels less like falling in love and more like recognizing something I forgot Il I’ve been secretly craving.
And maybe that’s why it scares me. Because good doesn’t usually last for me.
Still, I push the doubt down where it can’t reach me and focus on the good—the image of waking up next to him every morning, his laugh filling the room, and not having to watch him leave every other night.
If love’s a gamble, maybe this is the one bet I’m finally willing to lose—again.
After hours of circling the decision in my head like a dog chasing its tail, I finally give in. I wasn’t even this nervous when he first said the words, but after talking to Arina, I know I need to be sure—not positive, but at least sure enough.
Picking up my phone, I stare at the screen for a full minute, thumbs hovering before I type out the message—plain and simple.
“Yes, baby. I want you to move in.”
The moment I hit send, relief and panic crash together like they’re fighting for the same spot in my chest.
His reply comes almost instantly—too fast for him to have taken a full breath, let alone think twice.
“Perfect, I can already imagine waking up next to you every morning. Now it can actually happen.”
His confidence wraps around me like a warm blanket and a warning at the same time. I’m used to doubt, not certainty. But looking at his message and the steady calm beneath it, I know I want this.
I want him.
Even if it terrifies me.
? ? ?
The sight of his Camaro parked along the curb outside my house feels strangely perfect.
It’s been here a hundred times before and I’m only now noticing how much it belongs.
His passenger seat is stacked with clothes, sneakers lined up neatly in the back, and a duffel slung over his shoulder like this is the best decision he’s made in months.
Standing in the doorway, flowers in my hand—because of course he brought them today, he always does—I watch him laugh with Arina as she teases him about how much space he’s about to steal in my closet.
“For real though,” she says, smirking, “if your shoes end up on her side, I promise you’ll see them in the yard the next morning. Just warning you now.”
He laughs, that deep, easy sound that somehow softens the air around it. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep my mess contained to my side only.”
“Of course you will,” she deadpans, narrowing her eyes. “Men.”
Their banter makes me smile, while inside, everything feels a little surreal. His things blending with mine. His smile being the first thing I see in the morning. His Camaro sitting outside—the same car that’ll take him to work and bring him back home to me.
The thought catches me off guard.
Home.
But for once, the thought doesn’t make my stomach knot.
It just settles, letting me know this is exactly where we’re suppose to be.
When I finish hanging the last of his shirts on his side of the closet, I turn around to find him stretched out on my bed wearing nothing but his underwear. His arms folded behind his head, a smug grin tugging at his lips, his eyes tracking every move I make.
“Comfortable?” I ask, arching a brow.
He grins wider. “Just getting used to the view. But since you asked—yes, I’m very comfortable watching you put my clothes away,” he teases.
I roll my eyes, trying not to laugh. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Yeah,” he says, grabbing himself through the very obvious print in his underwear, “but you like it though.”
He’s right about that—I do.
I toss one of his shirts at him, laughing under my breath. “Oh, shut up. I’m just helping you. Don’t get used to it—I’m not your maid, I’m your girlfriend. But if you prefer me to be your maid as well, I’m gonna need some incentives.”
His gaze drops to where his hand is rubbing—exactly where he wants mine to be. He snatches the shirt midair, standing he walks toward me with a steady confidence he wears better than anything in this closet.
“I’m gonna take a shower, sexy. And when I come back…”
His eyes trail down my body, slow and indulgent.
“…I want you in that bed. Naked. Understand?”
My breath hitches low in my chest, heat sparking through me. I bite my lip, nodding, a playful smirk tugging at my mouth—and I swear a tiny giggle slips out of me.
“Okay.”
The bathroom door clicks shut behind him, and I finally exhale. The room feels quieter now, heavy with anticipation. I pick up the shirt I threw earlier, hanging it properly, sliding the closet door closed hoping to trap my nerves inside with it.
Without wasting another second, I untie my pink silk robe and let it slip to the floor, the fabric pooling at my feet before I crawl into bed. The cool sheets kiss against my bare skin, decadent enough to make me shiver. I reach for the remote and flip on some music.
A soft rhythm drifts through the room, warming the air. There’s nothing more intimate—nothing more dangerous—than letting yourself sit in a moment while music’s playing. It turns everything into something deeper, slower, almost romantic. Temptation waiting backstage for its cue.
A few minutes pass before the door swings open, and my lungs miss a beat.
Water glistens across his skin, tracking down the sharp lines of his abs. His towel hangs low on his hips, teasing more than it hides. Leaning casually against the doorframe, he pauses long enough to make me squirm.
A slow smirk curves his lips as he drags a hand through his wet hair, water tracing every muscle, showing off just for me.
“You listened,” he says, voice low and rough. His blue eyes darken as they sweep over the sheets tucked around me. “Good girl.”
He pushes off the doorframe, crossing the room in a few unhurried, predatory strides, savoring every second before he gets to devour me. The towel slips from his hips the moment he reaches the bed, climbing onto top of me with a hunger that radiates from him.
His damp skin meets mine, his weight settling over me in the most delicious way.
For a moment, all I can do is feel—the heat, the pressure, the want—every inch of him reminding me exactly why it was a good idea of letting him move in.
The idea of him living here suddenly feeling less like a risk and more like inevitability.
His lips glide from my earlobe down the curve of my neck, each kiss warmer than the last. Reaching my chest, his mouth closes around my pierced nipple pulling hard with his teeth.
Pain and pleasure blur together, racing through every nerve I have.
I gasp, caught somewhere between wanting it to stop and wanting more.
His hand slides in between my legs, slipping a finger inside my needy pussy. A sound slips from—half moan, half plea—as his rhythm quickens, shoving another finger deep inside me.
My breath breaks apart—desperate almost, as he pushes me toward the edge he knows too damn well, dragging heat through my body, that always leaves me trembling for more.
He brings his fingers to his mouth, gaze locked on mine. “God, I could get drunk off you,” he murmurs, eyes blazing. “I crave you more than food itself.”
He growls, gripping my jaw with one hand as he presses his fingers to my lips, letting me know it isn’t a request.
I take his fingers into my mouth, eyes locked on his, letting him watch every slow glide of my tongue. His expression shifts to something darker, drinking in the control he has over me.
I give his fingers one last lingering lick before they slip free. His dick is still a little wet from the shower, and freshly shaved so I can see every vein wrapping around his thick, perfectly sculpted length.
He pushes into me with a deep, hungry insistence. His mouth finds the side of my neck, kissing hard, dragging heat up my skin as he takes his time sliding into me.
“I love you, baby,” I exhale, wrapping my arms around his neck, pulling him closer.
“I love you so much more, baby,” he breathes into my mouth, kissing me deeper as his pace intensifies. His ragged breathing sends sparks of pleasure rushing through me, moaning as his body smothers mine, thrusting in and out of me.
He takes his time fucking me, pushing me through wave after wave until I’m shaking, desperate for that final release he keeps dragging just out of reach.
But he never eases up—if anything, he gets harsher, more demanding, like he’s chasing something in me only he knows how to find.
Every shift of his body tears another helpless sound from my throat, my whole body strung out on the edge he refuses to let me fall from.
My nails dig into his back, and the familiar surge of heat rises through me—blinding, and impossible to hold in.
A sharp, explosive wave hits me all at once, my pussy clenching around him with a force that rips the air from my lungs.
The rush is so violent, so consuming, my whole body shakes beneath him as everything inside me finally lets go.
“That’s it, baby… let it all out for me,” he groans, his hands guiding me slowly as my release fades in sharp, breathless waves.
His grip tightens around my waist, his movements turning fierce, urgent—driven by a need he’s not afraid to show. He thrusts into me with a raw, shuddering release that rips a deep growl from his chest.
He collapses beside me with a shaky “Damn, Jainey,” pulling me back against him, my ass flush against his still-hard length, his skin damp and hot against my spine. He holds me close, face tucked into the curve of my shoulder, our breaths uneven and tangled as our bodies slowly come down together.
Pulling the blanket over us, I melt back into the heat of his body, my eyes fluttering as his arm tightens around me.