Chapter 26
HARTLEY
The hallway light is dim when we step away from Alaska’s temporary room.
The door closes softly behind us, the quiet click of the latch settling into the calm that has filled the house since we got back from dinner.
For a moment I stand there with my hand still on the knob, listening to the faint rustle of blankets on the other side and the distant hum of voices drifting from the kitchen.
Alaska fell asleep quickly, the kind of sleep that takes over after too much excitement in a single day.
Stellan’s hand finds mine without hesitation. “You okay?” he asks quietly.
I glance at him and nod, though the truth feels more complicated than that. Being here should feel overwhelming. A strange house, new people, a weekend that feels bigger than I know how to handle. Instead there’s a calm spreading slowly through my body.
“I’m good,” I smile.
We step into the kitchen together. Julia stands at the sink rinsing a couple of glasses while Tim wipes the counter with a dish towel. Julia turns when she hears us.
“How is she?” she asks.
“Out,” Stellan says with a quiet laugh. “She didn’t even make it through the whole bedtime routine.”
Julia laughs. “That’s a good day for a four year old.”
Tim nods toward the living room. “Go enjoy some time together. We have some things to finish up here.”
Stellan tugs gently on my hand. “Come on,” he murmurs.
We move into the living room where the lamps are already on, the soft glow spilling across the couch and old coffee table. I sink down onto the couch and lean forward with my elbows on my knees for a second, letting the quiet settle around me.
Stellan drops down beside me.
“You did good today,” he says.
I glance over. “At what?”
“Everything,” he answers simply.
I lean back against the couch cushion and let my head fall against the fabric.
For the first time all day, my mind finally slows enough to catch up with everything that happened. The drive, the house, and meeting his parents. Alaska laughing at the hibachi chef like it was the greatest thing she had ever seen. The moment when she tried to wink and everyone lost it laughing.
A quiet warmth spreads through me that I recognize as relief, because nothing went wrong. No tension. No judgment. No awkward silence.
Just people who welcomed us in like we belonged there.
Stellan nudges my shoulder lightly. “You look like you’re thinking too hard,” he says.
“That’s because I am.”
“About what?”
I glance toward the hallway that leads to Alaska’s room.
“About how weird it is that this feels… normal,” I admit.
“Normal isn’t a bad thing.”
“No,” I say quietly. “It just hasn’t been my normal for a long time.”
He reaches over and rests his hand on my thigh.
“Having a boyfriend?” he asks, brows raised.
I roll my eyes while chuckling. “That’s a hard first time, not a long time and you know it. No, seeing someone, connecting with someone, just…sharing my life, myself, with someone.”
“We’ll take it slow,” he murmurs.
Neither of us says anything for a while, and it isn't uncomfortable.
My throat feels dry suddenly.
“Can I get water?”
“Yeah,” he says easily, pushing up from the couch. “Be right back.”
He disappears down the hallway toward the kitchen while I lean my head back against the cushion again.
A minute passes.
Then another.
I glance toward the hallway.
“Stellan?” I call quietly.
No answer.
I sit up and listen. His voice drifts faintly from the kitchen now, low and relaxed. He must be talking with his parents.
I stand and head down the hallway, planning to grab the water myself if he forgot. I slow when I hear Julia’s voice.
“Alaska’s wonderful,” she says softly.
I pause without meaning to.
Stellan laughs quietly. “Yeah. She is.”
“Hartley too.”
I should walk away from this doorway…I don't.
“Hartley’s…he’s different. I’m the first man he’s ever dated. It’s new and exciting, and I really enjoy being around them.”
“You love them,” Julia continues, calm and certain.
Stellan exhales slowly. “Mom.”
“Don’t dodge me.”
“It’s fast,” he says. “It’s been weeks, not years.”
“So?”
“So it can’t be love…right? That takes more time then we’ve had.”
There’s a soft sound of something being set down on the counter.
“You already feel it,” she says. “I can see it on your face.”
Another pause, then Stellan sighs.
“I love them.”
The words hit me before I can move.
They knock the air out of me. My hand tightens against the hallway wall like I need something solid to stay upright. I should go back to the couch…give them privacy.
Instead I stand there frozen while my brain tries to process what I just heard.
Love.
The word echoes in my head, because loving someone means risking losing them.
Lance flashes through my memory without warning. My brother laughing across the kitchen table, the sound of his voice the last time we talked, and the call that told me he wasn’t coming home.
My throat tightens.
I step backward quietly and slip out the front door onto the porch. The night air hits my lungs sharp and cold. I grip the railing and stare out at the quiet street.
Footsteps sound behind me a minute later. The porch light spills across the boards when the door opens.
“Hey,” Stellan says softly.
I keep my eyes on the street for a second before looking at him. “Hey.”
“You okay?”
My voice catches when I try to answer.
“I heard,” I say instead.
His expression shifts instantly. “Heard what?”
“You and your mom.”
The porch goes quiet except for the distant hum of a car passing.
He runs a hand slowly through his hair. “Hartley.”
“I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop,” I add quickly. “I just came to see what was taking so long.”
He leans against the railing beside me, close enough that our shoulders almost touch.
“You weren’t supposed to hear that yet,” he says quietly.
The word yet tightens my chest again.
“I don’t know what to do with that,” I admit. “Love is a big word.”
“I know.”
“I lost someone I loved,” I continue, my voice rougher now. “The last time I trusted that feeling completely, brother or not, the universe took it away from me in the worst way possible.”
Stellan turns toward me fully. “Hartley.”
“I’m not saying this to make you take it back,” I say quickly. “I just needed you to understand why my brain is freaking out.”
His hand slides over mine on the railing. “I’m not taking it back,” he says. “I meant it.”
I swallow.
“You barely know me.”
He shakes his head slowly. “That’s not true.”
“You know parts of me.”
“I know enough to know what I feel,” he says quietly.
The porch light casts a soft glow across his face. The certainty in his eyes hasn’t changed since the first night he showed up at the apartment.
“I didn’t plan this,” he continues. “I didn’t wake up one morning and decide to fall for a guy and his niece. It just happened.”
Emotion builds in my chest so quickly it almost hurts.
“You make me better,” he says. “Both of you do.”
My eyes burn.
“And I’m not asking you to say it back tonight,” he adds gently. “I just needed to be honest.”
I exhale slowly.
The fear is still there, familiar and heavy but something else is sitting beside it now.
Hope.
I turn toward him fully.
“You scare the hell out of me,” I admit.
He smiles softly. “Good.”
“Why’s that good?”
“Because it means you care.”
I laugh before I can help it.
“Come here,” he murmurs.
His hands slide around my waist and pull me closer. The kiss that follows is slower than earlier, deeper, full of everything we haven’t figured out how to say yet.
My fingers curl into his shirt.
“Let’s go inside,” he whispers against my mouth.
I nod.
He takes my hand and laces our fingers together, then guides me back through the front door and down the hallway. The house is quiet now. The kitchen lights are off, the only glow comes from a small lamp in the living room and the faint nightlight under Alaska’s door.
My pulse starts climbing again as we reach our room.
Stellan pushes the door closed behind us and turns the lock with a soft click.
For a second neither of us moves.
Then he steps closer, one hand sliding up my arm until his fingers curl behind my neck again.
“You’re still thinking too much,” he murmurs.
“Probably.”
“Let me fix that.”
He brushes his lips against mine again. The kiss starts soft but builds quickly, his tongue sliding against mine with a hunger that matches the heat pooling low in my gut.
I pull back slightly, my hands gripping his shirt tighter.
He chuckles low in his throat, the sound vibrating against my chest as he presses closer, his body solid and reassuring against mine.
"Strip for me," he whispers, his eyes locked on mine with that intensity that always unravels me. I nod, my fingers fumbling with the hem of my shirt as I lift it over my head in one slow motion. Cool air hits my skin, raising goosebumps along my arms and chest.
He watches every inch, his gaze tracing the lines of my body like he's memorizing it and I feel vulnerable in the best way, my heart pounding so loud I wonder if it echoes in the quiet house.
I kick off my shoes next, then unbutton my jeans and shove them down along with my boxers.
I step out of them until I stand naked before him, my cock already half-hard from the anticipation, twitching under his stare.
He doesn't rush; instead he reaches out, his fingers trailing down my chest, over my stomach, stopping just short of where I ache for him.
I bite my lip to stifle a whine, the need building sharp and insistent inside me.
Stellan sheds his clothes with more confidence, his shirt coming off to reveal the lean muscles of his torso, then his pants and underwear follow, pooling at his feet. His cock springs free, thick and curving slightly, already leaking at the tip. I swallow hard, my mouth watering at the sight.
He steps forward and guides me backward toward the bed, gentle hands on my hips. The mattress dips under my weight as I sit, then lie back, the sheets cool against my heated skin. He follows, kneeling between my legs, his hands pushing my thighs apart, exposing me completely.