“I’m okay. We’re okay.”
A shadow of a smile crosses his face. “Yeah. We are. I’m never letting you go again, Harper. I love you so much it hurts.”
“I know the feeling.” My voice is barely a whisper. “I had no idea I could care this much. Be so completely, terrifyingly in love.”
He closes the distance between us, his forehead resting against mine.
“And especially not with Mr. Celebrity,” I add.
He laughs quietly. “Oh, come on.”
“Right. How about Mr. Olympian?”
He groans. “One more chance.”
I bite my lip, smiling. “Mr. Boyfriend?”
A slow grin stretches across his face. “Good answer.”
And then he kisses me—full of relief and promise. His lips are warm and soft against mine, mindful, reverent, and I melt into him instantly, every muscle in my body unwinding. Finally, I let myself sink into that sense of safety. That quiet certainty of belonging that I didn’t even know I’d been searching for.
And in that moment, despite my headache, the gash on my head, and everything I’ve been through, I can’t help but notice how happy I am. To be alive, to be surrounded by people I love. And to be lucky enough to have this man by my side. For whatever joys and hurdles life may bring.
33
Harper
When I’m discharged from the hospital, Baptiste invites me to stay with him. Temporarily, of course—we’re not jumping ahead. It just feels silly for me to check into a hotel or get a short-term rental when he has a huge, perfectly good townhouse to offer.
At least, that’s the practical version.
The emotional version is, I don’t want to be alone.
The fire took everything. Clothes. Notebooks. My couch with the broken spring I’d been meaning to fix. The chipped mug I’d had since college. Years of memories, little pieces of my life—gone in one violent, smoky breath. The acrid smell still clings to me if Iclose my eyes. The stench of burnt fabric, melted plastic, and that metallic tang of something destroyed beyond repair.
And yet, as I stand in the middle of Baptiste’s living room with no belongings to my name, I don’t feel homeless.
I feel… held.
Because I am. By giant, warm hands that smell like cedarwood and clean cotton. His arms wrap around me easily, naturally, as if this is the most obvious place for me to be.
“I’m so glad you’re safe and here with me,” he says, kissing my forehead. “Remember, you can stay as long as you want.”
As long as you want.I savor those words.
Notas long as you need. Notuntil you figure things out.
I smile, dropping a quick kiss on his lips. “Thank you for all this, and for giving me a second chance. Even though what I did was unforgivable.”
My heart clenches like it does every time I think about how far I went to uncover the truth. How I stole from him in the name of certainty. How close I came to losing him for good. And how lucky—so unbelievably lucky—I am that he came back to me.
“We do crazy things for the people we love, right?” he says softly.
That word,love, still sends a tremor through me. It’s steady now. Real. Not something I’m afraid to touch.
I chuckle, nodding. “Still, my special set of skills will only ever apply to you if you request them. I promise.”
His expression shifts—something warm and relieved passing through his eyes. Trust. That’s what this is all about.
