Chapter 11
POV: AMBER?
The familiarity between us was almost overwhelming.
It was like muscle memory.
Like our bodies had never forgotten each other.
He knew.
My hips began to move with his, matching the rhythm instinctively.
We had always known each other’s bodies too well.
I felt the pleasure building again, faster this time.
Stronger.
He watched my face carefully, his gaze softening as he realized what was happening.
“You’re close,” he said.
I nodded breathlessly.
“So are you.”
The corner of his mouth lifted faintly.
“Yeah.”
My voice broke as I whispered his name.
“Xander…”
“I know,” he murmured gently.
His forehead pressed to mine again, our breaths mingling, and his voice dropped even lower.
“Come for me.”
And I did.
The release crashed through me hard and sudden, making my whole body shake as his name broke from my lips.
He followed right after, his breath leaving him in a rough groan.
For a moment neither of us could even breathe properly.
The intensity of it stole the air from my lungs.
The pleasure had built so quickly, so perfectly, and when it finally broke over us, it left everything else feeling distant.
When the moment passed, we were still looking at each other.
Still connected.
Still wrapped in each other.
And I had never felt more connected to someone in my entire life.
When we slowly came back from the haze, he was still inside me.
We were still tangled together, wrapped in this quiet, fragile version of us.
Then he gently pulled out and rolled onto his side, pulling me with him until I was pressed against his chest.
His arms wrapped around me like they belonged there.
Like they had always belonged there.
His voice was soft when he murmured against my hair.
“I will never let you go again.”
I don’t remember exactly when my breathing slowed.
At some point, the world stopped spinning, the intensity faded into something softer, warmer… quieter.
And suddenly, it wasn’t about the way our bodies had just found each other again.
It was about this.
Us.
Xander’s arm was still wrapped around me, firm and steady, like he was afraid I might disappear if he loosened his grip. My cheek rested against his chest, his skin still warm, his heartbeat slow and strong beneath my ear.
I traced lazy patterns along his ribs, my fingers moving without thinking.
For a while, neither of us spoke.
We didn’t need to.
The silence wasn’t empty—it was full. Heavy with everything we hadn’t said in twelve years.
His fingers slid through my hair, slow and absentminded, like it was something he used to do every day.
Like he never forgot how.
“You still do that,” I murmured softly, my voice a little rough.
His hand stilled for half a second before continuing the same gentle motion.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “You used to fall asleep faster when I did.”
A small smile pulled at my lips, even as something in my chest tightened.
“You remember that?”
I felt, more than saw, his smile.
“I remember everything.”
The words settled between us.
Dangerous. Honest.
I tilted my head just enough to look up at him.
His gaze was already on me.
Soft. Open. Unarmed in a way I had never seen before.
“Everything?” I asked, almost teasing—but not really.
His thumb brushed lightly over my shoulder.
“Your coffee order,” he said. “No sugar, but you pretend you don’t like it sweet because you think it makes you sound cooler.”
I huffed a quiet laugh.
“That is not true.”
“It is,” he countered, the corner of his mouth lifting. “You make that face every time you taste mine.”
I rolled my eyes, but I was smiling.
“And you still eat scrambled eggs every morning,” I shot back.
“With cheese,” he added automatically.
“With too much cheese,” I corrected.
His chest moved under my cheek as he let out a soft breath that almost sounded like a laugh.
“Protein,” he said.
I shook my head lightly, my fingers pressing into his skin.
For a moment, it felt… easy.
Like we hadn’t lost years.
Like we were still those two people who knew each other better than anyone else in the world.
The thought hit harder than I expected.
My hand stilled.
His fingers slowed in my hair.
He noticed.
Of course he did.
“You okay?” he asked quietly.
There was no pressure in his voice. Just… concern.
I swallowed, my gaze drifting away from his.
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
The honesty slipped out before I could stop it.
His arm tightened around me, pulling me closer.
“You don’t have to know,” he said softly.
I let out a slow breath.
“That’s kind of the problem, Xander.”
He went quiet for a moment.
I could feel him thinking.
“I know I don’t get to just…” he started, then stopped, like he was choosing his words carefully. “Walk back into your life like nothing happened.”
I closed my eyes briefly.
At least he wasn’t pretending.
“But I’m here now,” he continued, quieter. “And I’m not going anywhere tonight.”
Tonight.
Not forever.
Not even tomorrow.
Just tonight.
Something fragile settled in my chest.
I shifted slightly, my fingers curling into the fabric of the sheets.
“You always say things like that,” I murmured.
His body tensed just a little beneath me.
“Like what?”
“Like it’s enough,” I said softly. “Like you are enough to make me forget everything else.”
His hand slipped from my hair to my jaw, gently guiding my face back toward his.
“Wasn’t I?” he asked.
The question wasn’t arrogant.
It was… quiet.
Almost afraid.
My throat tightened.
“You were everything,” I whispered.
His gaze broke for a second, like the weight of that hit him harder than he expected.
When he looked back at me, there was something raw there.
“I still am,” he said.
My breath caught.
I should have said something.
I should have pushed back.
But I didn’t.
Because the truth was sitting right there between us, heavy and undeniable.
I shifted closer instead, my leg tangling with his, my hand resting over his heart again.
His arms wrapped around me instantly, like instinct.
Like home.
His lips brushed lightly against my temple.
And for a moment—a small, reckless, dangerous moment—I let myself believe this could last.
That maybe… just maybe…
We hadn’t broken something beyond repair.
His fingers resumed their slow path through my hair.
My eyes grew heavy.
“Get some sleep,” he murmured softly.
I let out a quiet hum, already drifting.
“Don’t disappear in the morning,” I whispered, half-asleep.
His arms tightened around me.
“Not this time,” he said.
And that promise…
That was the last thing I heard before sleep finally took me.
I woke up slowly.
Not all at once, not with a jolt—just… drifting.
Warmth.
That was the first thing I noticed.
Warmth wrapped around me, solid and steady, like a cocoon I didn’t want to leave.
For a few seconds, I didn’t even open my eyes.
I just breathed it in.
Then I felt it.
An arm around my waist.
A hand resting against my stomach.
A body pressed along my back.
And everything came rushing back.
Xander.
My lips parted slightly as I inhaled, my body going still for a second as awareness settled in.
I wasn’t dreaming.
I shifted just enough to glance over my shoulder—
And there he was.
Still asleep.
His hair was a mess, falling over his forehead, his face relaxed in a way I wasn’t sure I had ever seen before. No tension. No walls. Just… him.
Soft.
Unprotected.
My chest tightened.
God.
I turned a little more in his arms, careful not to wake him, but his grip tightened instinctively, pulling me closer like he refused to let me go even in his sleep.
A small smile tugged at my lips.
Some things never changed.
I let myself look at him for a moment longer.
The line of his jaw. The faint shadow of stubble. The way his lips were slightly parted, his breathing slow and even.
Twelve years.
And somehow my body still recognized him like this.
Like home.
My fingers moved before I could stop them, brushing lightly over his chest.
His skin was warm under my touch.
Familiar.
Dangerous.
His breath shifted.
And then—
“Amber.”