Chapter 16 #4
Tonight, he’d made me feel like someone who belonged in his life. Fully. Maybe not under spotlights, with microphones shoved into our faces, but I wouldn’t want that anyway.
This—
This could be a life.
“Matt.” I reached for him, fingers at his wrist.
He went utterly still. Like his whole focus had shrunk to that one point of contact and he was waiting, almost reverent, to see what it meant.
I stepped a little closer, slid my hand from his wrist to the side of his neck, thumb just under his jaw. His pulse was racing.
“Stellan,” he said, almost a whisper.
I inhaled and smiled at him. “Hi.”
A laugh shivered out of him, more breath than sound.
He turned into me like he’d been starving—only it wasn’t urgent the way we’d been before.
His mouth found mine with a gentleness that ached somewhere deep in my bones, warm and real, right here by the fireplace, with voices nearby, under the golden glow of lights with massive windows framing trees. Safe, not hidden.
Naomi made a triumphant noise somewhere that Reid immediately followed with, “Oh, for fuck’s sake. Get a room.”
“Actually,” Cole put in, laughing, “I think Matt rented a whole house for this.”
Matt kissed me like none of it mattered, or maybe like it mattered, yes, but in the right way. Like he wanted us to be seen, at least here. In one honest corner of his life.
When we shifted apart, his eyes were bright. Something in me had gone quiet and sure.
This wasn’t suddenly simple. There would be fights, hard moments, things neither of us knew how to do yet. But it was real.
A warm room with people who mattered. Matt in the light, not flinching away but reaching for me. A future where I had a place in his life.
For the first time, it felt like something I might get to have.
Dessert. More wine by the fire plus sparkling apple juice for the drivers, everyone sprawled on couches and armchairs while conversation flowed this way and that. All throughout, Matt stayed right next to me, his arm easy around my shoulders as if we’d done this a million times before.
We hadn’t. I’d remember.
Cole left first because tomorrow was a travel day and he didn’t want to sleep through his chance at family time.
Then Matt’s parents turned in to one of the bedrooms down the hall, and soon after, Reid made noises about having exhausted his emotional quota for the day like he wanted us to applaud him for his sacrifice.
From the kitchen came the soft clink of glasses and Naomi saying something too low to catch, Ronan answering with a grunt.
And, well. Closing time.
“Hey.” Matt’s voice was quiet, meant for me alone. “You’ll stay?”
I shifted to look at him, and he met my eyes with steady hope, bright but not cocky, like he still didn’t want to assume. It made a smile start somewhere near the soles of my feet. “Will there be diced fruit in the morning?” I asked.
He clearly needed a moment to make the connection—a luxury hotel lounge with immaculate cubes of mango and melon, marble floors, and a view of the Chicago skyline. Then a grin cracked through. “Not my forte. But if that’s what it takes, I’m not above begging my mom for help.”
“Maybe just coffee, then,” I said, and he nodded, fingers curling against my shoulder.
“Coffee I can do.” A second passed while he watched me. “You know,” he said then, “I wouldn’t choose how we started, but I’m weirdly glad it happened.”
Okay, what.
It pinged somewhere low in my gut—a hint of shame, even now. I breathed through it, then quirked a brow at him. “You’re glad I cost you half a million?”
“Maybe not that part.” His expression turned thoughtful but not heavy, voice low. “But it set off a whole chain of events, stopped me lying to myself and people who matter. It got us here, you and me. So…” He shrugged, his smile quick, true. “Worth it, I’d say.”
You saw the worst of me, and somehow, you’re still here.
The thought cut right through any lingering trace of guilt—didn’t fully erase it, but made it feel like something I could learn to leave behind because Matt already had.
“I love you,” I said.
His whole face brightened. “It’s extremely mutual.”
“Seriously?” I stifled a laugh, leaning just slightly toward him. “That’s the best you’ve got?”
“Maybe I’ve exhausted my emotional quota, too.”
I let my mouth tip up and covered his hand with mine. “I don’t think you have.”
“Yeah?” Silent laughter disguised as a challenge. “And how would you know?”
“Because I know you,” I said, and he paused as if to consider it, reflected firelight dancing in his dark eyes, mouth one happy curve.
“I guess you do,” he said then, as if it was the result of a long and thorough assessment. “And yeah, for the record? I love you, too.”
Yes.
No fireworks, no fairy-tale ending with us riding off into the sunset with all the hard parts neatly solved. I didn’t need that. What I needed was this—a warm room, his hand on my shoulder, the steady brightness in his eyes asking me to choose this life.
“I know,” I said, and kissed him before he could say anything else—kissed him like I meant yes, I’ll stay.
Tonight, and after.