Epilogue Two
Connor
T he city lights spread beneath our penthouse like a sea of stars, each one winking up at us through the floor-to-ceiling windows. I watched Sierra move through our home, arranging books on the new shelf in her study, her fingers trailing lovingly over the spines.
Toffee followed behind her, inspecting each title as if he could read the damn things, occasionally batting at her ankles when she took too long deciding where a particular volume belonged. I still found it hard to believe this was possible, this soft, steady warmth I never thought I’d deserve.
“You're staring again,” Sierra called without turning around, a smile in her voice as she stretched on tiptoes to place a weathered copy on the highest shelf. The motion made my oversized sweater ride up on her, revealing the soft skin of her thighs.
My hands itched to touch her, to haul her against me and keep her buried in my arms forever. But I stayed where I was, leaning against the doorframe, content for now to watch her do the most mundane of tasks.
“I’m admiring,” I corrected. “You're impossible not to look at.”
The color that rose in her cheeks at the compliment still fascinated me.
How easily she blushed, how genuine her reactions were.
She'd bloomed under my care, growing stronger each day without losing that sweetness that had drawn me to her from the beginning.
My sweet girl, standing taller now but still so fucking soft.
She turned, clutching a book to her chest, her brown eyes meeting mine with that mix of shyness and determination.
“And you're distracting me from organizing. We’ll never get these shelves filled.”
“Would that be so terrible?” I closed the distance between us in a few strides, one hand coming up to cradle her face, thumb brushing over the soft arch of her cheekbone. “Having an excuse to spend a whole day just like this.”
She leaned into my touch, her eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment. “We already spend most days just like this,” she pointed out, but there was no complaint in her tone, only contentment.
“It’s not enough,” I murmured, bending to press my lips to her forehead. “It will never be enough.”
She’d never understand the truth of those words. The more I had of her, the more I needed. Her scent, her touch, her voice, her trust, each one was a drug I couldn't get enough of. It had become the foundation I built my life upon.
Sierra set the book aside, her small hands coming up to rest against my chest, over my heart. “You have me,” she said softly, reading my thoughts as she often did now. “All of me, Connor.”
I covered her hands with one of mine, pressing them harder against the steady thud of my pulse. “Good,” I said roughly. “Because I'm never letting you go.”
The smile that spread across her face was bright enough to chase away the shadows that had followed me for most of my life. She rose onto her toes, pressing a soft kiss to my jaw. “I know,” she whispered. “That's why I feel safe with you.”
Safe. That's what we'd built here, in this penthouse high above the city, a place where Sierra could let her guard down, where the ghosts of her past couldn't reach her.
Where Jerry's voice no longer echoed in her nightmares.
The knowledge that I'd given her this security, peace, and home filled me with fierce pride.
The ringing of my phone halted my thoughts.
I growled low in my throat, annoyed at the interruption, but Sierra just laughed, pulling away to continue shelving her books.
I checked the screen, unsurprised to see Jax's name flashing there.
The man had an uncanny ability to interrupt at the worst possible times.
“What?” I answered, watching Sierra stretch to another high shelf, deliberating whether to step in and help her or enjoy the view for a while longer.
“Well, good fucking afternoon to you too, sunshine,” Jax drawled, the sound of some opera in the background. “Just checking to make sure you're still planning to show your face at training tomorrow. Coach is riding our asses about you skipping.”
I rolled my eyes. “I'll be there,” I said curtly. “After taking my time with Sierra.”
Sierra glanced over at me, her brow furrowing slightly at the mention of her name. I held her gaze, reassuring her with a look that everything was fine.
She'd grown more comfortable with Jax and Adrian, but she still tensed sometimes when they called, her mind immediately jumping to worst-case scenarios. Given what the four of us usually talked about, I couldn't blame her.
“Bring her with you,” Jax suggested, his voice taking on that smug tone that made me grit my teeth. “Adrian's been whining about not seeing her for days. Something about a new toy for the cat that he wants to show off.”
I snorted. “Toffee has more toys than most children. Adrian's spoiling him rotten.”
“Like you're any better,” Jax retorted, not wrong. “Anyway, bring her. We'll behave. Mostly.”
I glanced at Sierra, who had paused in her shelving to watch me, curiosity clear in the tilt of her head. “I'll ask her,” I answered finally. “But no promises.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. She'll come. She loves us.”
His confidence grated, but again, he wasn't wrong. For whatever reason, Sierra genuinely enjoyed the company of my two best friends. She found Adrian's chaos amusing rather than overwhelming and had somehow learned to navigate Jax's relentless arrogance without getting flustered.
“Ladies are calling,” Jax announced. “Say hi to the bee for me.”
I ended the call without responding, tucking the phone back into my pocket. Sierra abandoned her books, crossing to me and placing a gentle hand on my arm.
“Everything okay?” she asked, concern evident in her voice.
I nodded, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Fine, sweet girl. Just Jax being Jax. He wants us to come to training tomorrow," I murmured, changing the subject. “Something about Adrian having a new toy for Toffee.”
Sierra's face lit up, her concern momentarily forgotten. “Oh! That would be nice. Toffee likes him.” She bit her lip, suddenly hesitant. “But if you'd rather train alone… I know how they can be.”
I chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “They can be a lot,” I agreed. “But I don't mind you coming. I like having you there.”
“Even though Jax keeps trying to convince me to leave you for his model friends?” she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
I growled, pulling her against me. “He can try all he wants. You're mine.”
I emphasized the point with a kiss, one hand tangling in her hair, the other gripping her hip possessively.
Sierra melted into me, her arms winding around my neck as she returned the kiss with her sweet little tongue and soft sighs.
When we broke apart, she was breathless; her cheeks flushed that delicious dark pink that drove me fucking crazy.
“Yes,” she agreed softly, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of my neck as I bent low for her. “But it's still fun to watch your face when he calls me bee.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “Careful, Sierra. You're in dangerous territory.”
Her laugh was bright and fearless, so different from the nervous, barely-there sound it had been when we first met. “Good thing I have a big, strong hero to keep me safe, then.”
“Boxer,” I corrected, unable to suppress my own smile. "Not a hero. I’d destroy anything if you asked.”
“ My hero,” she teased, pressing a quick kiss to my lips before slipping out of my grasp to return to her books. “Now let me finish this before dinner, or we'll be eating at midnight again.”
I let her go, settling onto the couch to watch her work. Toffee abandoned the shelves to leap onto my lap, butting his head against my hand in a demanding request for attention. I obliged, scratching behind his ears as he purred loudly enough to wake the dead.
The cat had immediately taken a liking to me, thank god. I suspected it had more to do with the wagyu bribe than any particular fondness for me at this point, but I'd take what I could get. The little fur ball was important to Sierra, which made him important to me.
She hummed softly as she worked, an absent-minded melody I recognized as one I often played in my car.
The knowledge that I'd influenced even this small part of her routine sent a surge of satisfaction through me.
Every day, our lives intertwined more, our habits merging, our spaces blending until sometimes I couldn't remember where I ended and she began.
“Are you hungry?” Sierra asked, finally stepping back from the now-full shelves with a satisfied smile. “I was thinking of making pasta. Something simple.”
“Sounds good,” I agreed, setting Toffee aside and rising from the couch. “Want help? ”
She nodded, and together we moved to the kitchen, falling into an easy rhythm. I chopped vegetables while she browned ground beef for the sauce, our bodies moving around each other in a dance we'd perfected through countless shared meals.
“You're killing those vegetables,” Sierra observed, bumping her hip gently against mine as she reached for the garlic. “I can practically hear the knife slicing the cutting board.”
I huffed a laugh, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her against my side. “Just thinking about how perfect you are,” I admitted, the words coming easier now than they once had. “Having you here. Having this.”
She leaned into me, her body soft and warm against mine. “I'm the lucky one,” she said quietly. “You gave me a home, Connor. A real one.”
I pressed my lips to the top of her head, breathing in her lavender scent. “We gave each other a home," I corrected. “That's what matters.”
The rest of the evening passed in a comfortable, quiet dinner at the kitchen island, Sierra's thigh resting over my knee under the counter, then a movie on the couch with Toffee sprawled between us, purring contentedly.