Little Pale Nocturnal Creature

After dinner—which was cut short after what happened—Harry remained out on the deck of his parents’ villa. He was seated at the edge of it, staring down at the clear blue water. His eyes were red, tears continuing to trickle down his cheeks as he thought about you and the fact that he hurt you. 

Not only emotionally, but physically too. 

He just couldn’t do anything right. 

Maybe you had a point. Maybe this trip was clouding both your sense of reality. Maybe you two weren’t meant for each other and this trip—being so close to him like this—just made you both feel things that you wouldn’t have felt otherwise. 

But he had to believe that wasn’t true. 

Because if it was, it wouldn’t have hurt this much. 

Harry heard the sliding door open. It was already late. 

He should be asleep now. 

He should be with you. 

Harry didn’t have to look over to know that it was his mother who sat down next to him. She had ended the dinner after he confessed, after he admitted that everything with you was fake… until it wasn’t. 

“You should get some sleep,” she said softly, quietly.

“I’m not tired,” he muttered.

“Harry, honey…”

Harry looked at her. He was completely wrecked. Tears pooled at his eyes. His eyes were bloodshot, voice raspy, and shoulders slumped forward. “I don’t want to go to sleep… because tomorrow is the last day and I don’t—I don’t want this to end.”

She sighed. “Why did you lie? About her? About your relationship?”

Harry laughed bitterly. 

He looked away from her and out into the dark sky. “Because you guys wouldn’t stop bothering me. After Lucy, it was just nonstop. I’d hear about it at work. Or during our lunches. Or whenever I’d come over… and I was just tired, ma,” he admitted. “I couldn’t breathe. You, dad, and Peter tried to fix me up almost every week—do you know how exhausting that is?”

“Honey—”

“And maybe I should’ve been honest,” Harry interrupted quietly. “But if I had been, would you guys have stopped?”

She sighed quietly and shook her head. “I’m sorry. We didn’t know.”

“That’s the thing, isn’t it? None of you do. My breakup with Lucy hurt,” Harry confessed. “Because I had envisioned a future with her… but I knew she wasn’t—we weren’t meant for each other in that way.” 

His mother’s eyes softened. She reached out and gently rubbed his back. 

“So, to get you guys to stop, I asked—” Harry sighed, then said your name quietly. “I asked her to pretend to be my girlfriend. I figured… why not? You guys know her. She and I are friends. It would be easy.”

His mother listened. She didn’t interrupt. She turned her body to face Harry, lower lip pulled between her teeth. She knew Harry had always been the serious and sensitive one out of him and Peter, but she had never seen him this heartbroken over a woman before. Sure, he had been hurt in the past, but never did it cause him to spiral like this. 

“But that’s the thing… It was too easy, ma,” he whispered. “It was like—it was like something I had been missing. Something I had been searching for in other women. It had always been her… so why did it take this trip for me to see that?” Harry finally turned to look at his mother. His brows cinched together, tears rolling down his cheeks. 

“I don’t know, honey,” she finally said. “Life’s funny that way, you know? Maybe—Maybe you both weren’t ready for each other before.” 

Harry shook his head. 

Then, he continued. “Our relationship—it was always just sex. We never really did catch any feelings for each other. If she was seeing someone exclusively or if I was, we’d end it.”

“Maybe you should ask yourself why you both kept going back to each other, then.”

“What do you mean?” 

“How long was this physical relationship?” She asked.

“Years.”

“Right… and you had been with other women during these last few years.”

Harry nodded.

“And when you were single and she was single, would you both then continue that relationship?”

He nodded once more. “Yes.”

“Then, you’re asking the wrong question, honey,” she said, reaching up to cup his cheek gently. “You both kept going back to each other for a reason. Sure, you both can say that you didn’t want each other in that way, but your hearts—they yearn for each other.”

Harry felt his breath catch in his throat. He was trying to hold back the tears, tried to keep it together, but he couldn’t. Because this pain in his chest wasn’t something he had ever felt before. It was like the walls were closing in on him and the only one who could save him was you. 

“You weren’t ready for her back then… and she wasn’t ready for you either.”

“And now? Now, we are?” Harry asked.

“I’d like to think so,” she answered. “If you love her, Harry, don’t give up.”

“She doesn’t want me,” he muttered. 

“You don’t believe that’s true, do you?”

“It doesn’t matter what I believe,” Harry answered. “It’s what she said.”

“Oh, Harry,” she sighed and moved her other hand to cup his cheek. She stared into his deep brown eyes, glistening with tears. “If you let her go… it’s going to be the biggest regret of your life.” 

He pressed his lips together. The corners of it trembled. “I don’t—I don’t know how to fix this…” 

“You don’t have to fix anything,” she said. “You just need to tell her how you feel.”

“I tried.”

“Clearly not hard enough,” his mother teased. “Harry, she’s a strong and stubborn woman. I believe you know her better than I do, but she needs to hear you say those words that you feel deep in your chest. That pain you feel right now? That won’t go away if you let her go.” 

“P—Peter said I would have to just move on. I tried—I tried to get her to listen earlier and it didn’t work.”

She sighed. “Well, you shouldn’t have listened to Peter. That was your first mistake,” she laughed quietly.

Harry let out a quiet chuckle. It was a much needed relief after the tightness in his chest. It went away briefly, but it came back full force. Like it was reminding him of the person he was losing. 

“You don’t move on from this type of love, honey.”

“How do you know?”

“This type of love only happens once,” she said. “You let her go… and you’ll be chasing that feeling for the rest of your life.” 

Harry pulled back and away from her grasp. He turned to look back at the water. It didn’t feel right—trying to get you to understand and change your mind when you already told him what you wanted. 

“Harry,” his mother said. “You’re not forcing her to stay,” she reassured. “But she at least needs to hear how you feel about her.”

He didn’t reply. Harry just kept his gaze back onto the water. 

“Thank you, ma,” he finally said. 

She sighed. “Get up.”

“What?”

“Get up,” she stood from the deck and extended her hand out for him. “I know she said for you to stay the night, but I think she’s gonna be glad to see you at your villa.”

“Mom,” he sighed. 

“Get up, Harry.” She repeated. “And don’t make me ask you again. I know you’re hurting, but you have a choice here, honey… And I’m not going to let you choose to sulk here when you have a woman who loves you just as much as you love her.” 

Harry looked up at her. He sighed and stood from the deck, taking her hand in his and standing up. He towered over—especially since getting leg lengthening surgery—but he still had such a soft spot for his mother. Whatever she said goes. 

“I love you,” she said, moving a hand to his chest. “But you need to be stubborn right back.”

“I can’t make her stay.”

“You’re not trying to make her stay.”

“Then, what am I trying to do?” Harry asked.

She sighed. “Harry, you’re going to be completely and wholeheartedly honest with her. You’re going to put everything on the table… You were ready to do it with Lucy.” 

“That was because it was the most logical choice.”

“Do you hear yourself?” His mother asked. “Love isn’t supposed to be a logical choice.”

He sighed. “I know that.” 

“Good. So, go back to your villa. Be there when she wakes up,” she said with a soft smile. His mother leaned up and kissed his cheek. “Tomorrow is the last day. It’s now or never, honey.”

Harry had gone back to the villa like his mother advised. When he stepped inside, it was eerily quiet. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep, especially when everything just felt unresolved. He tried to keep in mind what his mother told him—there had to be a reason why you both kept going back to each other, and it wasn’t just the sex. It had become more than that, even before this trip. 

He found comfort in you. After his failed relationships, you were the first person he wanted to see. Not because he needed you physically, but because you grounded him in ways that no one else could. 

He told himself it was only because of the sex, that you were just someone he could use as convenience, but this trip opened his eyes to so many things that he hadn’t seen before. 

Because Harry did love you. 

He figured he always did. 

And maybe his mother was right. Maybe you both weren’t ready for each other then, but you both were now. He had to be sure of that.

Because he couldn’t let you go. 

At least not without telling you how he truly felt about you. 

So, Harry walked down the hallway quietly, just to check in on you. The door had remained opened, which he found surprising, given that you had wanted your space. 

But when he stepped inside, Harry felt his breath catch in his throat. 

You were curled on your side, back facing him, but he could see the shirt you were wearing. It was one of his own. He glanced at his luggage and a small smile pulled at his lips to see that it was open—you had gone through his luggage just so that you could have something of his to sleep with. 

It made him hopeful. 

Gave him a bit of confidence. 

Maybe you did love him too. 

He stepped further into the room and carefully grabbed one end of the blanket to cover you. Harry draped it gently over your midsection, biting his lower lip at the sight of you. He leaned down and gently kissed your forehead. 

“I love you, baby,” he whispered. “I’m going to make things right. I promise.” 

You moved just a bit, but otherwise remained asleep. Harry gazed at you for a few seconds longer before he stood upright and left the bedroom quietly. 

He was going to fix this. 

Harry wasn’t going to leave this trip without putting everything on the table. 

Because he wanted you. 

Now, and for the rest of his life. 

The following morning, you had woken up feeling a bit restless. You looked around the bedroom and sighed. Harry wasn’t here, which you knew already, but part of you hoped that he’d at least come back. You reached for your phone and looked at the time, biting your lower lip when you realized that today was the last day of this trip. 

Watching that video last night opened your eyes to things that you failed to see before. Harry loved you; he admitted it on the video, and maybe that was what he was trying to tell you along. 

You knew that you had to talk to him at some point today, but that you also still needed to play the part as his girlfriend. With everything that happened, especially last night, you weren’t sure how either of you could continue this charade. 

Determined to speak to Harry before the party, you stood from bed, pulled on your sleep pants and walked to the bathroom to brush your teeth. You were determined—you were going to go to his parents’ villa where you told him to stay last night and ask to talk with him. 

Harry had woken up early that morning before the sun even came up. He hadn’t slept much, but for the first time since everything that happened, he was feeling positive. Seeing you in his shirt last night in bed, the conversation with his mother, it felt like things were much more clear to him now. 

He didn’t have to hide the fact that everything about this relationship was fake to begin with because at some point during this trip, he stopped being pretending. It also felt like a relief that he didn’t have to hide anymore from his family. 

So, before you had woken up, Harry decided to leave the villa only to surprise you with some breakfast and flowers. He didn’t know what he would say or how he would say it, but Harry knew that he was going to tell you just how much he loved you. 

The walk to his parents’ villa didn’t take that long. You were nervous, each step you took bringing you that closer to the man that you had been in love with. It terrified you—the thought of being in love. It had always been difficult for you, which was something both you and Harry had in common. 

Knocking on the door, you fidgeted with your hands. You were expecting Harry to open the door, but felt a bit of relief when it was his mother instead. She looked at you and smiled warmly—it managed to calm down the nerves that settled in the pit of your stomach. 

“Morning,” she smiled. 

“Morning,” you replied. “Is—Is, uh, is he here?” 

His mother furrowed a brow in confusion. “No, I told him to go back to the villa last night. Is he not there?” 

You shook your head. “I didn’t see him…” you looked down at your feet and sighed. “Then again, I wasn’t really looking either. I just—I wanted to come straight here before I talked myself out of it.” 

She nodded and opened the door even further. “Come in, let’s talk, yeah?” 

“Are you sure? I know you have to get ready and—”

“A cup of coffee won’t delay the party,” she laughed quietly. “Besides, the party can wait. Come in.” 

You sighed and nodded, stepping across the threshold and into the villa. You felt severely underdressed compared to her—it was still quite early and she looked so put together. 

“I’m an early riser,” she said, leading you away from the front door and towards the kitchen. “His father, on the other hand, still asleep.” 

You laughed quietly and followed her quietly. “Harry’s also an early riser,” you pointed out. “At least from what I’ve noticed.” 

She nodded in agreement. “Yes, he says that he can get a lot done in the morning.” 

“Always so efficient,” you smiled. Sitting down on the stool, you watched her pour your a cup of coffee before setting it down in front of you. 

“How are you?” She finally asked. “Were you able to get some sleep?” 

You shook your head and looked down at your mug. “Not really, no. Last night was… intense. I’m sorry that happened.” 

She waved her hand in the air dismissively. “We all have our disagreements,” she reasoned. “There’s nothing you need to apologize for.” 

“He didn’t mean to push me either,” you added. “It was just—wrong timing.” 

“I know,” she said softly. “Because if it had been on purpose, I would’ve made a bigger scene, believe me.” 

You glanced at her and smiled. 

Then, you shifted your gaze back down to your mug after taking a careful sip. 

“Are you excited for your party?” 

She nodded with a smile. “I’m excited to celebrate with my husband and family, yes.” 

“Fifty years,” you said quietly. “That’s… that’s amazing.” Then, you thought back to the first day of this trip. The words Harry said when you went out to lunch with his family since arriving.  

“Imagine where you’ll be in fifty years, Harry,” you said.

“Hopefully with you,” he blurted out. 

“It’s nice to have someone go through life with,” she said softly. “We’ve had many ups and downs the last fifty years,” she continued. “But I can’t imagine my life without him. That’s a bit cheesy, no?” 

You shook your head and allowed a smile to curl your lips. “I think it’s beautiful. I think you’re lucky… you found someone to spend all those years with.” 

“You have too,” she said. “And I think you know it.” 

You bit your lower lip. “I think I love your son,” you whispered. “But I’m terrified. I don’t know what that looks like or how that changes.” 

“I think being scared is a good thing,” she replied. “It means your feelings are real.” 

You sighed. “I really messed up,” you whispered. “I broke him and I didn’t—I just—” You felt tears sting your eyes. “Last night, I was going through my camera roll and noticed a video he recorded. He said he loved me, said he always did.” 

His mother smiled. 

Then, you straightened up. 

Because to you, his mother still wasn’t aware that any of this was fake. “What I mean is that—we just haven’t said those words yet in our relationship.” 

She reached out for you and placed a hand over yours. “I know.” 

“What?” 

“I know “ she repeated. “Harry told me everything last night.” 

“He did?” 

“Said everything at first was pretend… until it wasn’t,” she said. “And I’m sorry that he dragged you in this, that you both felt the need to lie.” 

You shrugged. “I’d do anything for him,” you said. “He knows that… just like I know he’d do anything for me.” 

She smiled. “You know, I told him last night, that both your hearts yearn for each other. Why else do you think you both kept going back to each other?” 

You chewed at your lower lip anxiously. “He told you everything…” 

She laughed quietly and nodded. “Listen, I’m not here to judge. What my son does on his own time is his own business, and I’ll only step in if I absolutely need to.” 

“It really was just a physical relationship,” you said. 

“Honey,” she smiled, squeezing your hand. “It stopped being just a physical relationship when you said you’d do anything for him.” 

You sighed and looked up at her. “I’m sorry… that we lied. I didn’t expect that it would turn out like this,” you said honestly. 

She shook her head and moved to sit next to you. “You’re family now. I hope you know that.” 

You bit your lower lip. “Can I stay here just until I’m done with my coffee?” You asked. 

She smiled. “Of course.” 

“I’m just nervous,” you admitted. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way about anyone.” 

“Good,” she said, reaching up to gently rub your back soothingly—reassuringly. “Hold onto that.” 

Harry was mumbling under his breath, practicing what he was going to tell you, when he stepped into the villa. He let out a nervous breath and walked into the kitchen, setting the tray of food down with the two cups of coffee. He looked around and furrowed a brow. You would’ve been awake by now. 

So, he called out your name. 

Quietly. 

Hesitantly. 

You didn’t answer. 

He walked down the hallway and into the bedroom. You weren’t there. You weren’t in the bathroom. Harry sighed and sat at the edge of the bed. He glanced at the nightstand and noticed your phone—it wasn’t like he could give you a call to ask where you were either.

The hope and confident he felt last night slowly diminished. 

He was ready. This morning, Harry was ready to tell you everything. 

He had it planned, all the way down to what he wanted to say, what he wanted to tell you. 

Thinking that you wanted your space, Harry stood from the bed and grabbed his suit that hung in the closet, gently placing it down onto the bed and grabbing other necessary items to get ready. 

He reached for his phone, sent a text to Peter, and then grabbed the small notepad that rested on the nightstand. Harry wrote a brief note for you—simple and straight to the point. 

I’m sorry about last night. You probably still need your space, so I’ll be getting ready at Peter’s villa. 

I’ll see you at the party, baby. 

Harry ripped the piece of paper from the notepad and set it on the nightstand, right near your phone. He sighed quietly and grabbed his things before leaving the bedroom and then the villa. He glanced at the breakfast he had gotten, suddenly not hungry, but decided to bring it over to Peter and Charlotte in case they hadn’t eaten yet. 

Peter opened the door to his villa when Harry knocked just a few minutes later. He sighed at his older brother and opened the door further, allowing Harry to step through the threshold. 

“Thank you,” Harry said. “You didn’t have to agree to letting me get ready here.” 

Peter shook his head. “I overstepped,” he replied. “I shouldn’t have and I’m sorry.” 

Harry nodded. “I’m sorry, too. I was just—just upset.” 

“I know. Come on, let’s put the food down and I’ll pour you a cup of coffee.” 

“And Charlotte?” Harry asked. 

“She doesn’t know,” Peter answered. “I didn’t tell her. It’s not—it’s not something that she needs to know.” 

“Thank you,” Harry sighed. He followed Peter further into the villa, carefully setting the food onto the kitchen counter before walking into the living area where he set down his suit and shoes. 

“You talk to mom or dad today?” Peter asked, walking into the living area with two mugs of coffee. 

“Not yet,” he answered, taking the mug from him and following his younger brother out onto the deck outside. “Talked to mom last night though.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Told her the truth.” 

“You did? How—how was that?” Peter asked. 

“Freeing,” Harry answered. 

Peter sighed. “I am sorry, you know. I just wanted you happy.” 

He nodded and glanced over at him. “I know.” 

“And getting into… whatever you have going on right now, I shouldn’t have made it bigger than it was.” 

“What’s done is done,” Harry said. “I don’t know if I would’ve had the courage to admit how I felt about her if you or Charlotte didn’t get involved.”

“So, you love her,” Peter smiled. 

“I do,” he nodded. “But I don’t know if me telling her how I feel will even change anything. It might just make her run further away from me.” 

Peter shrugged. “But at least you could say you tried, right? I think that’s better than just letting her go.” 

Harry looked down at his mug, biting his lower lip as his mind drifted to you. “What do I do… if she doesn’t want this? Doesn’t want me?” He asked quietly. 

“I don’t know,” Peter answered honestly. “I think we just have to hope that she does.” 

Harry sighed. “Last night, when I came back to the villa, she was—she was asleep in my shirt, Peter. Curled up, snuggled to the pillow, and I just—it was like I was looking at my future, you know? My heart just raced faster at the sight of her.”

Peter nodded. 

“I’ve always loved her,” he continued. “And I think it’ll break me if—if she doesn’t want this.” Harry glanced over at his brother, tears filling his eyes before he looked away. “I don’t know if I can take it, honestly.” 

“This trip—it showed you what was right in front of you all this time,” Peter said softly. “And maybe it did the same for her. I would have a hard time believing if she said she doesn’t feel the same way, Harry.” 

Harry nodded and then took another careful sip of his coffee. “When did you decide that Charlotte was it for you?” He asked honestly. 

Peter smiled. “I don’t think there was just one single moment,” he answered. “It was many small moments… then I started imagining my future and what that looked like. And I knew that I wanted it with her.” 

“I just—I don’t know why it took me this long,” Harry said.

“Maybe some part of you always knew,” Peter reasoned. 

“Yeah, maybe.” 

“Do you know when you’ll try and talk to her?” 

Harry shook his head. “I was going to talk to her this morning, but she wasn’t at our villa when I got back. So, I think maybe she just needs more space.” 

“Today’s the last day, Harry,” Peter said. “You don’t have to wait for the perfect moment.” 

“I know that,” he sighed. “I’ll—I’ll talk to her after the party.” 

“Good,” Peter said, reaching over and squeezing his brother’s shoulder reassuringly. “She loves you, Harry. Maybe she’s just thinking about her way of telling you.” 

“I hope so,” he whispered, looking up the sky and noticing the clouds coming in. “Guess we should get ready, huh?” 

Peter nodded with a smile. “If we’re late, you know we won’t hear the end of it.” 

By the time you made it back to the villa, you were expecting to find Harry there. You could feel your heart beating out of your chest when you got closer, but when you finally stepped inside, disappointment filled your chest. 

He wasn’t there. 

You walked to the bedroom to retrieve your phone when you noticed the note he left you on the nightstand. You sighed to yourself and glanced at the time. You knew you had to get ready, so talking to him would have to wait. 

Instead, you pulled up his contact name and sent him a text message. It was a short message. You didn’t want anything to get lost in translation. 

YOU: I’ll see you at the party, Harry. 

You watched the message go from delivered to read. Harry hadn’t replied, so you set your phone down back onto the nightstand to grab the olive green dress from the closet. You had bought this dress in this color specifically because you knew it was Harry’s favorite. 

Now that you were holding it up, it all made sense. 

It was always Harry. 

It had always been him. 

You looked at yourself in the mirror, biting your lower lip. The dress fit perfectly along your curves—an ankle length dress, sleek satin that hugged every inch of your figure. It was also a sleeveless cowl neckline with a ruched front bodice and another deep cowl back with a dainty strap across the shoulders. 

Your makeup was light—like it always was—but your hair was pulled up in a high bun with strands of curled hair falling in front of your face. 

You looked at your phone briefly. Harry hadn’t replied. You sighed and took a deep breath before leaving the villa and into the main ballroom where the party would be at. You looked up at the sky once you stepped outside—the clouds were coming in fast. 

Harry hadn’t been able to send a text back to you. After he had gotten ready, he and Peter had to go to the ballroom to make sure everything was set and ready for his parents. It also didn’t help that it looked like it was about to rain outside too. 

“Everything good?” Peter asked. 

Harry nodded. “Yeah,” he answered. “Got the DJ set up. Bar is open. Food along that table there. We’re good.” 

“And you? You good?” 

Harry shrugged. “Nervous,” he said. “But ready to see her too.” 

Peter smiled. “She texted you first. That’s a good sign.” 

“I haven’t been able to reply.” 

“That’s okay,” he said. “Better to say the things you want to say in person.” 

Harry nodded. He turned his head to the doors when people started coming in. He took a deep breath and felt Peter’s hand on his shoulder. 

“You got this, Harry. Let’s just get through the next few hours. Then… she’s all yours.” 

By the time you stepped foot into the ballroom, you could hear the loud chatter mix in with the music. Suddenly, you felt so out of place. Harry was supposed to be by your side, grounding you. Comforting you. Making you feel like this was where you belonged. 

You took a deep breath and stepped further into the ballroom. The nerves slowly disappeared when some of his family members greeted you like you had always been part of the family. You smiled, gave them a hug and kiss on the cheek, as you looked around the room. 

Searching for him. 

“She’s not here yet?” His mother asked, holding a glass of wine as she and his father stood next to Harry. 

“No,” he answered. “I should probably give her a call.” 

“Give her a few minutes,” she said. “Maybe she’s still getting ready.” 

Harry nodded. “Right, maybe.” He reached for his own drink and sipped on it quietly. He was only limiting himself to one glass, especially after what happened last night. It still horrified him that he had put his hands on you, even if it was unintentional. 

Then, the DJ transitioned into a song that caught his parents’ by surprise. They looked at each other with a large grin and set down their own drinks. 

“Will you excuse us, honey?” His mother asked. 

Harry nodded and looked over at his parents with a smile. “Yeah, go. Dance. Have fun.” 

His father reached up and gently patted Harry’s cheek. “She’ll be here, Harry.” 

“I know,” he whispered. “I know.” 

His parents moved onto the dance floor, as well as other couples in the family, while the song slowly played in the background. 

Times were tough, we made it through  We wasted the rough, so let’s savor the smooth  All the time I was hurting you Got to believe that I was hurting, too

Harry looked around the room, biting his lower lip as he tried to search for you. 

I was born to love  I was born to I was born to love  I was born to 

You watched some more people move to the dance floor when the song continued. You felt your heart beat out of your chest as you scanned the room. 

You're the only one I can talk to

The only one I can really read

I know you give because you want to

Don't you think it's time you learn to let yourself receive?

Harry turned his gaze towards the entrance and then he spotted an olive-green colored dress in the midst of mainly black and white. 

There you were. 

You were looking around the room, almost like you were looking for him too. 

I was born to love I was born to I was born to love I was born to

Then, you saw him. His eyes were already on you. 

You felt your breath catch in your throat. 

Harry met your gaze. 

Everyone around him disappeared. 

I was born to love you I was born to love you

You walked closer to him. You didn’t break the eye contact either. It felt like you were holding your breath, navigating through the crowd of people as the song continued to play. 

Harry straightened up. He couldn’t take his eyes off you. The dress, the color of it, the way it clung to your figure—you were breathtaking. 

Now that you finally stood in front of him near the bar, Harry cleared his throat nervously. 

“Hi,” you whispered. 

“You look great,” he said quietly. “I love the color.” 

You let a small smile line your lips. “Knew you would,” you replied. “It’s why I got it.” 

“Because of me?” 

You nodded. “I know it’s your favorite color… and it matches that ring you always wear,” you pointed out, nodding towards the emerald green ring that sat on his pinky. 

Harry looked down at his hand. He finally allowed himself to relax. “You notice that.” 

“Hard not to,” you teased. “You wear that thing everywhere.” 

Harry chuckled. “Do you want a drink?” 

You nodded and turned your body away from him to face the bar instead. Just as you were about to open you mouth to ask the bartender for a drink of your choice, Harry chimed in on your behalf. 

“A glass of moscato, please,” he said, not taking his eyes off of you. 

Slowly, you turned back to face him. 

The air between you thickened with tension. 

You both knew there were things that needed to be said, things that have been lingering for days now. 

“You look great too,” you complimented. “I always did enjoy seeing you in a tux like this.” 

Harry felt his cheeks warm. “Yeah?” 

You nodded and stepped closer to him. You heard him inhale sharply. Then, you reached up and straightened his bow tie. “You look handsome… you always do.” 

Harry bit his lower lip as his eyes softened down at you. “Baby,” he whispered. 

You looked up at him. 

“I know,” you said, moving your hands back down to your sides. 

He sighed. 

The bartender quietly interrupted to set your glass of moscato down on the counter. 

You turned to face him and offered a polite smile. “Thank you.” 

“Baby,” Harry repeated. 

You looked at him. “We’ll talk before this trip ends,” you promised. “There are things I want to say too.” 

Harry let out a relieved breath. “Okay,” he said quietly. He didn’t want to push it either, so despite the need to want to ask when you both would talk, he just nodded. 

“I’m going to say hi to your parents now that they’re done dancing,” you replied. 

“Oh, right, yeah,” Harry said. “We’re seated at that table together and if you’re hungry, I’ll get you a plate.” 

“That’d be great, thank you,” you smiled, leaning up to kiss his cheek lightly. 

When you pulled away, Harry’s hand darted out to rest on your hip. His touch—like always—grounded you and you hadn’t realized how much you missed it, how much you missed him. 

“Will you dance with me later?” You asked. 

Harry nodded. “Yes,” he answered without hesitation. “Whatever you want, baby.” 

“Okay, good. I’ll remember that.” You smiled and then slowly stepped back and away from him. 

Harry watched you walk away from him, his eyes never leaving you. He sighed to himself, the flutter in his stomach becoming much more noticeable now. 

You walked to where his parents were, seeing the delighted expression on their faces when they saw you. His mother pulled you into a tight hug before his father did the same. You couldn’t help but feel Harry’s eyes still on you, so when you pulled away from them both, you turned to look over your shoulder. 

And sure enough, he was still looking at you. 

His mother smiled to herself. 

“You look amazing, honey,” she said, pulling your gaze away from him to look at her instead. 

“Me?” You scoffed playfully. “Look at you,” you smiled. You glanced at her husband. “Lucky man.” 

“Don’t I know it,” he chuckled, wrapping an arm around her waist. 

She smiled and leaned against him. “Have you talked to him?” His mother asked. 

“About everything? No,” you answered. “But we did have a brief conversation earlier. Nothing serious.” 

She nodded. “He wasn’t back at the villa when you left ours earlier?” 

You shook your head. “He thought I still needed space, left me a note saying he was going to get ready at Peter’s, so… just a few minutes ago was the first time I saw him today.” 

Her eyes softened. So did her husband’s. 

“How are you feeling?” 

You shrugged. “I’m okay. Right now, I’m okay. I’m having fun, celebrating the both of you.” 

They smiled. 

“Well, make sure you leave enough time to talk with him,” she said. “If not now, then maybe when you two are back in New York.” 

Harry was holding two plates of food when he finally sat down at the table. You were still mingling with his other family members, greeting them politely, laughing genuinely. It made his heart beat even faster. You always fit in with his family—that should’ve been another sign that it had always been you from the beginning. 

When you managed to excuse yourself, you walked over to Harry and sat down next to him, your glass now empty but your stomach quietly growling at the sight of food before you. 

“Want me to get you another glass?” Harry asked. 

You shook your head. “I think I’m good for now,” you answered. “Don’t want to drink too much,” you said. 

Harry bit his lower lip and nodded. “I didn’t know what you wanted, so I just got a bit of everything.” 

“This is great. I’m starving.” 

“Didn’t eat breakfast?” 

You shook your head. “Wasn’t all that hungry this morning.” 

Harry chewed the inside of his cheek. “Where—where were you this morning, by the way?” 

“I went to go see you,” you answered. 

“Me?” 

“I thought you were at your parents’ villa… considering what happened last night and what I said.” 

“Right,” Harry nodded with a sigh. He wanted to forget last night, wanted to forget that he ever put his hands on you. 

You could tell that Harry was still beating himself up for what happened, so you reached out and rested a hand over his. “It was an accident, Harry.” 

“Still. I should’ve been more careful.” Harry look down at your hand. He didn’t want to move, afraid that if he did, you’d pull away. 

“I don’t blame you… and I know you’d never hurt me like that.” 

Harry looked at you, eyes soft and broken. “I came back to the villa last night. Slept on the couch.” 

“I didn’t see you when I woke up…” 

“I—I left to get us some breakfast and coffee. When I came back, you weren’t there.” 

You sighed. 

Harry continued. 

“So, I thought you were out for a walk or something, that maybe you still needed your space.” 

“Which is why you got ready at Peter’s,” you finished for him. 

Harry nodded. “Yeah.” 

“We just kept missing each other this morning,” you said quietly. 

“Guess so.” 

“We still have time,” you reassured him. “I promise. We still have time.” 

Harry looked at you again. You could see the uncertainty in his eyes, could see how he was so close to the brink of tears. 

You cupped his cheek, watched him lean against your touch. To anyone else aside from his parents and Peter would see this as normal, but there was so much more. So much pain and heartache that lingered between the both of you. 

As you were about to lean in to peck his lips, the music suddenly stopped and you heard both his parents’ voices come through the microphone. 

Harry stared at you. 

You did the same. 

They started talking, so you pulled away. 

Harry sighed and turned his attention to his parents now. 

“We just want to thank you all for coming this week and celebrating with us,” his father said first with a smile. “It’s been nice to spend time with family like this.” 

Harry’s mother smiled and leaned into him. 

You looked at Harry for a moment—he was beaming with pride.

“It’s been fifty years with this man,” his mother chimed in. “Fifty amazing years.” Tears filled her eyes. “We’ve been through… everything together. We built all of this… together.” 

His father pulled her closer and leaned over to kiss her temple. “I’m ready for fifty more,” he said into the microphone. 

His mother laughed quietly and reached up to wipe her tears. Then, she glanced at you and Harry and smiled. “When you find that special someone, hold onto them… that kind of love doesn’t come around very often.” 

You bit your lower lip and subconsciously reached for Harry’s hand, gripping it tightly as you kept your eyes locked with his mother’s. 

Harry looked down at your hand for a moment and squeezed it in return. 

“Love can be scary,” she continued. “But when you find the right person—your person—everything else just falls into place.” 

Harry turned to look at you now. He released your hand only to reach for the end of your chair, pulling it close to his. You gasped quietly, looking over at him and biting your lower lip. 

“Life works in mysterious ways,” his mother said, a small smile curling her lips. “Sometimes, the person we needed was right in front of us all along.” 

The microphones turned off and the music started playing again. 

Harry looked into your eyes and moved his hand from the chair to rest gently on your knee. 

“Would you like to dance with me?” He asked. 

“Yes,” you answered with a quiet breath. 

Harry stood up slowly and took your hand in his, gently leading you towards the dance floor once everyone started to join as well. He didn’t pay attention to anyone else around the both of you—all he could see was you. 

He pulled you to his chest, one hand keeping your own close to his chest and the other resting on your lower back. 

There goes my heart beating 'Cause you are the reason I'm losing my sleep Please come back now

You moved your free hand to his shoulder, eyes staring up at his. Everything that neither of you said lingered—you both didn’t need to say it out loud, at least not right now. 

I'd climb every mountain And swim every ocean Just to be with you And fix what I've broken Oh, 'cause I need you to see That you are the reason

Harry was the first one to speak. It was quiet, just enough for you to hear. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget this trip.” 

You bit your lower lip and nodded. “Me too, Harry.” 

“I—I don’t know what this means for us,” he continued. “But I don’t want to let you go. I don’t want to go back to New York and go our separate ways,” Harry admitted. 

“Neither do I,” you said quietly. 

Harry felt his heart race even faster. 

He pulled you closer until you were flush against his chest. 

There goes my hands shaking And you are the reason My heart keeps bleeding I need you now

“It’s always been you,” Harry finally said. 

You felt tears trickle down your cheeks. You knew what he meant. 

“I watched the video.” 

His brows furrowed. “What?” 

“You took a video… on my camera.” 

His brows relaxed. 

His eyes softened. 

Harry’s lips parted. 

“When did you watch it?” 

“Last night,” you answered. 

And I'd climb every mountain And swim every ocean Just to be with you And fix what I've broken Oh, 'cause I need you to see That you are the reason

Harry released your hand only to wipe your tears away gently. 

You leaned into his touch. No one else mattered. He had always been the one you wanted. The one your soul and heart yearned for. 

I don't wanna fight no more I don't wanna hide no more I don't wanna cry no more Come back I need you to hold me (you are the reason) Be a little closer now Just a little closer now Come a little closer I need you to hold me tonight

“I meant every word,” he whispered. “And I’m sorry. For everything that’s happened… for it taking me this long to see it.” 

You moved your hand now to his the back of his neck, gently playing with the curl at his nape. It didn’t feel real. This didn’t feel real. 

He leaned forward and rested his forehead against yours. 

“How do we do this?” You whispered. 

“We do it together,” Harry answered. 

I'd climb every mountain And swim every ocean Just to be with you And fix what I've broken 'Cause I need you to see That you are the reason

Everything finally felt like it had fallen in place after that. You felt relief, felt free, now that it seemed like both you and Harry were on the same page. Still, you both hadn’t exactly said those words, but you both knew what it meant. 

What that dance meant. 

It was a step in the right direction. 

And after this party, once you were both alone, you’d tell him how you truly felt—how it had always been him too, and how much you loved him… like you never loved anyone else before. 

Harry had kissed your temple before excusing himself to share a dance with his mother. You smiled to yourself, watching them briefly with loving eyes before you turned your gaze to Charlotte and Peter who sat at your table. 

“We want to apologize,” Charlotte said. “We shouldn’t have ever gotten between the both of you.” 

You looked at her and then glanced at Peter. “It’s okay,” you whispered. “We both know it came from a place of love.” 

“Still,” Peter said. “We shouldn’t have meddled.” 

You nodded. “What’s done is done, right?” 

“Right.” 

Then, Charlotte smiled. “You both look… happier,” she pointed out. 

“I think we are,” you said, turning to glance at him. He was holding his mother close, laughing quietly with her and you felt like your entire world just stopped. “I think I always have been… happier with him.” 

Charlotte grinned. “You two are just so perfect for each other,” she said. 

Peter smiled. He noticed a shift in Harry’s demeanor throughout the party. He wasn’t as tense or nervous as that morning. Whatever you two talked about, Peter was hopeful that it was something good and enough for his older brother to be less stressed. 

“I hope we’ll be seeing more of you,” Peter said. “Outside of working our events.” 

“I hope so too,” you replied. 

The song shifted. 

Charlotte looked at Peter expectantly. 

He chuckled and then stood up, extending his hand out for her. 

“Excuse us,” he said. “I promised her a dance.” 

You nodded in understanding and smiled, watching them both walk away from the table. 

You had gone to the bathroom after your conversation with Charlotte and Peter. Anticipation simmered in the pit of your stomach when you thought back to the brief conversation you had with Harry. You both would still have to go back to the villa and the thought of being alone not only excited you, but brought relief too. 

Because you just wanted him all to yourself now. 

Wanted to tell him how much he meant to you. 

How much he always meant to you. 

The fear of putting yourself out there lingered, of course it did. You wanted so badly for this to work out because you wanted what his parents had—fifty years of being by the side of the person you love the most. 

And you knew you wanted that with Harry. 

So, you were determined to find him after you were done in the bathroom. You were going to ask him if it would be okay to leave—to go back to the villa and talk. Alone. 

After washing your hands, you looked at yourself in the mirror and took a deep breath. 

You opened the door to step outside and heard his voice immediately. 

A large smile lined your lips. 

Then, you heard her name. 

Your heart dropped. 

The smile disappeared. 

“Lucy, I can’t talk right now,” Harry sighed. 

Tears immediately stung your eyes. You stepped out and saw him. His back was turned until he moved to face in your direction. 

When he noticed you, his eyes widened. Then, he noticed the look in your eyes, the look on your face. Harry hung up the phone immediately. He knew how that looked, how it sounded like. 

So, he pocketed his phone and tried to take a step closer. 

“Baby, it’s not—”

“God, I’m fucking stupid,” you whispered, shaking your head. “I’m really fucking stupid.” 

“No,” he shook his head. “No no, just—”

“I’m… I’m tired, Harry,” you said, tears now trickling down your cheeks as you took a step back and away from you. “I should’ve—I should’ve listened to what my head was saying all this time.” 

“Let me explain—”

You shook your head and then turned on your heel immediately. You didn’t bother saying bye to his parents or the rest of his family. Instead, you stepped outside. The walls felt like they were closing in on you. The weight on your chest felt like it was crushing you. 

And of course, it was raining. The clouds that had come in that morning were now thick and dark grey in the sky, strong droplets of water coming down hard. You were soaked immediately after standing outside for a few minutes. 

You heard the door open behind you, followed by his voice. 

Harry looked at you and when you glanced over your shoulder at him, he felt a sinking feeling in his gut. You looked at him like you were utterly broken. 

He called your name. 

You shook your head and removed your heels. 

Then, you ran. 

Harry yelled out for you. 

Then, he followed—he was now completely soaked too. 

You were dripping wet by the time you made it back to the villa. Your dress clung to your body and your hair was a complete mess, so you pulled it from its bun as you dropped your heels at the doorway. Tears streaked down your cheeks as you felt your throat tightening. It felt like you couldn’t breathe. 

You left a trail of water as you walked down the hallway and into the bedroom. You grabbed your luggage and set it on the bed. You wouldn’t wait to leave until tomorrow. 

You would leave tonight. 

Separately from him. 

Harry stormed inside instantly. He was breathing heavily and he called for you again. He looked around the villa, immediately noticing the trail of water leading down the hallway into the bedroom. 

He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his wet curls, slicking it back and away from his face. 

The dread he felt in the pit of his stomach became more noticeable now. He had been feeling hopeful before you heard him on the phone and he knew how wrong it looked. 

“Baby,” he said breathlessly, standing in the doorway. 

Your back was turned, but he could see your shoulders trembling. 

You were crying. 

You heard his voice. Your hands shook. You didn’t turn around. 

Then, you heard him take a step closer. 

You took a deep breath. 

“What you heard—I was about to tell her that she no longer could call me,” Harry reasoned. “I’m sorry… so fucking sorry that I keep messing this up.” 

You didn’t say anything. 

Then: “I love you,” Harry finally said out loud. 

Believe it, I need you by my side Yes, I know you know, know you know, know I've been a sinner, baby I've seen it, I've seen you high and dry Yes, I know you don't, know you don't, know you don't need me to say it But if anything happens between us Does everything change? I know you feel it too, I can see it in your face So tell me now not to get too close 'Cause it always happens

You stopped moving, but you didn’t turn around. Tears continued to move down your cheeks. 

“I don’t want anyone else,” he continued. “It has always been you,” Harry repeated. “I love you and it fucking terrifies me.” 

One, two, three, four How much longer can this go Oh, babe? Don't break Every single breath you take Kills me softly, chills my body But, when we reach the limit We're really giving 'cause

He took a step closer. Harry could hear his heart thumping in his chest, the beat of it filling his ears. 

“I always loved you,” Harry said quietly. “I was searching for something that had always been right in front of me.” 

You inhaled sharply—shakily. You brought a hand up to your face to wipe your tears. You hadn’t turned around yet. 

“I’m done pretending. Every moment I spend with you—I yearn for it, fucking crave it. And it’s not only the sex. I think it stopped being about the sex a long time ago,” Harry confessed. 

Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah I wanna cherish you Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah I wanna cherish you

“You’re the first person I want to talk to when I get good news, or when I have a bad day, you’re the one I want to run to,” Harry felt his own tears move down his cheeks slowly. “Baby, please…” 

You turned around slowly, but you didn’t look up at him yet. 

Then, he reached out for you. Harry gently cupped your cheek. 

“Look at me,” he whispered. “Please.” 

Slowly, you gazed up at him. You still had tears pooling around your eyes. 

“I’m tired too,” he said softly. “I’m tired of making myself believe that I don’t want this. We blurred the lines long before this trip,” Harry sighed. 

Harry took a step closer. 

It's so clear we're right on the edge Both in, we're over our heads But I'm ready to take this fall You say, "Baby, I want it all" I want it all

“I want fifty years with you,” Harry admitted. “I want you on your good days, on your bad days. I want every moment in between.” His voice trembled, almost like saying this out loud was giving you permission to take his heart and break it. “You make me laugh like no one else can. You frustrate me like no one else has before either,” he whispered, lips curling upwards just slightly. 

“But I love you… everything about you. The way you always bite your lower lip when you’re in deep thought or when you’re working hard on editing your pictures.” Harry’s thumb moved to brush across your lower lip. “Or the way you hog all the blankets at night and then complain that it’s too hot when you wake up,” he chuckled quietly. 

You were breathing heavily now. You didn’t realize that you had finally let out a breath you had been holding in since he said those three words. 

Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah I wanna cherish you Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah I wanna cherish you

“You think about everyone else before you think about yourself,” he continued. “You have the kindest heart, the most comforting smile, and—and when I’m with you, nothing else matters in the world.” 

You nodded slowly. A silent response. Then, you moved closer until your hands moved to his chest, feeling the drenched weight of his suit jacket against your fingertips. 

Harry inhaled. 

“I love you too,” you finally confessed. “And it scares me too because—because I think I always have loved you, Harry.”

He couldn’t hold back his tears anymore. He moved his other hand to your hip and pulled you closer. 

“It’s always been you,” you repeated. “I thought—I thought running away would be better. Would make me believe that this wasn’t what I wanted… because why would you want someone like me?” 

He shook his head in protest.

But it was your turn to talk now. 

“Then, I started noticing the way I felt whenever I was around you. Started understanding what everyone was saying because you look at me like no other man ever has. You make me feel safe, protected... no one’s ever made me feel like that before.” 

Harry bit his lower lip. His heart felt like it was beating out of his chest. 

And now we finally reach the limit, babe But you know you can trust, don't be afraid 'Cause all you need is just a little faith A little faith

“I want fifty years with you too,” you continued. “You stopped being someone I wanted to use to just pass the time with, and started becoming the person I wanted to spend every minute with instead.” 

Harry smiled. His hand on your cheek moved to the side of your neck, thumb running along your jawline as he tilted your head up to look up at him. 

“You were right in front of me all along,” you whispered, stepping closer to him now until your bodies were pressed against each other. 

Despite both your clothes being wet and cold against your bodies, it felt anything but that. Your bodies were hot—two hearts and souls yearning for each other and mere centimeters from one another. 

One, two, three, four How much longer can this go Oh, babe? Don't break Every single breath you take Kills me softly, chills my body

“I love you,” he whispered. 

“I love you too,” you replied. 

Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah I wanna cherish you Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah I wanna cherish you

Then, Harry leaned in. 

He cradled your head and pressed his lips firmly against yours. 

You melted into him, gripping the lapel of his jacket as you stood on your toes to return the kiss. 

It felt different this time. 

It wasn’t a kiss out of convenience or a kiss out of habit. 

It meant so much more. 

It meant a new beginning. 

The kiss continued. It went from slow and tentative and eased into something familiar. Harry moved his hands to your hips now and your hands wrapped around his shoulders. Neither of you cared that you were both still soaking wet and dripping on the hardwood floor. 

It wasn’t until your hands started to push his jacket away and off his shoulders that you both pulled away to look at each other. 

You were both looking at each other more freely now—like you both no longer needed to hide how you felt about each other. 

He shrugged his jacket off, a quiet wet splat hitting the floor. Harry then reached for his bow tie to loosen it around his neck, watching you carefully when you turned around. You pulled the zipper down carefully, allowing your dress now to pool around your ankles before turning back around to face him. 

You both had countless sex with each other, but this time—this time it meant something entirely different. 

Harry let out a breath at the sight of you. You hadn’t worn a bra with your dress, so you were just clad in a seamless thong and your nipples had hardened at the cold air. 

His pants were becoming increasingly uncomfortable and the fact that it was drenched didn’t help either. He let his bow tie hang loose around his neck before he reached down to undo his belt, followed by lowering his zipper and unbuttoning his pants. 

Neither of you said anything. 

You both just stared at each other. 

Anticipation lingering between the both of you. 

Harry stepped out of his pants and boxers with ease, letting out a sigh of relief before he felt you begin unbuttoning his white dress shirt until you pushed it off and away from his body. 

He felt his hardened manhood brush against your body. He licked his lower lip and then watched you slide your thong down your legs. 

Now that you both were bare and completely naked before each other, Harry reached for your luggage and shoved it to the floor. 

“Hey,” you protested playfully. 

“We’ll stay another week,” he reasoned. 

Your eyes widened. “What?”

Harry nodded. “We both can afford another week,” he answered. “Besides,” he said quietly, lifting you onto the mattress carefully before he settled himself between your legs. “I want to spend some more alone time with you here… is that okay?” 

“Yes,” you answered, legs wrapping loosely around his waist as your hands moved from his damp chest and up to his cheeks. Slowly, you pulled him down on top of you as you felt the tip of his length brush against your inner thigh. “I don’t think I’m ready to leave yet either.” 

“Good,” Harry smiled, leaning in to press his lips once more against yours. 

You smiled into the kiss, warmth spreading between your legs. His lips moved with yours more aggressively now—fueled by the sudden urge to be inside of you, the woman that he loves. 

You moaned against his lips, feeling his hand move lower. Harry grasped himself, running the head of manhood across the length of your sex now, gathering your slickness along his tip. He’d brush over your clit teasingly, feeling your body react immediately. He pulled away from the kiss to gaze down at you, moving his free hand to prop himself up. 

You kept your eyes locked with his. You could feel the throbbing between your legs, whimpering impatiently at the feel of his hardened length running along you teasingly. 

As much as Harry wanted to look down between your legs, he just couldn’t look away from you. He leaned down and rested his forehead against yours, slowly sliding his tip inside of you before pulling out. 

“Harry,” you whimpered. 

“Yeah, baby?” He asked innocently, sliding back into you before he pulled again. Harry continued that movement a few more times, applying more pressure to your clit with the head of his length once he pulled out. 

“Need you, please,” you pleaded. 

Harry smiled. 

Then, he slowly slid further into you. Harry groaned loudly at the feel of your warmth surrounding him immediately. He forced himself to slowly ease himself inside of you, despite just wanting to slam further into you. 

Your hands abruptly moved to his shoulders, gripping it tightly as your legs remained locked at his lower back. You always felt so full of him—his girth filling you. Without the added protection of the condom, you felt every inch and ridge of him slide along your tight walls. 

There was no way either of you would be able to go back to using condoms and you knew it wasn’t safe to not use them, but maybe that was a different conversation for a different day. 

Right now, you’d cherish the way he felt inside of you. 

As Harry filled you to the hilt, he released his hold from himself and instead kept himself propped up with both hands on the mattress now. He didn’t move for a few seconds, wanting to just feel your warmth and wetness around him.  

“Always so wet for me,” he whispered. “Aren’t you?” 

You nodded, arms wrapping around him to pull him down flush against you instead. “And only for you,” you moaned quietly, feeling his hips pull back just a couple of inches before pushing back into you. “Fuck,” you muttered. 

Harry smiled and pecked your lips lightly, slowly beginning to pick up his pace. He kept his eyes locked with yours and his body pressed against your front. Sex had never felt like this and he just kept hearing your words echo in the back of his mind, timing it with his thrusts. 

I love you. 

I love you. 

I love you. 

You couldn’t hold his gaze any longer, so you shut your eyes and let out a loud moan. Harry kissed your cheek before burying himself to the side of your neck, panting heavily into it as his hips repeatedly slammed against yours. 

The sounds of skin slapping against one another echoed throughout the villa, followed by the sounds of just how wet you were too. He could feel a rush of wetness against his lower abdomen as he continued to thrust forward into you. 

He moaned your name into your neck, teeth and tongue brushing along your pulse point. His hands moved to your ass, gripping onto it as if it could give him more leverage to thrust into you. 

You held onto him, arms tightening around his shoulders as you felt the pressure in your stomach build. Your moans mixed in with his and it felt like neither of you were holding back now. 

Your lips were near his ear, panting heavily as you felt every ridge and inch of him slide into you. You whispered, breathlessly, as you felt your orgasm loom closer and closer. “I love you… I fucking love you.”

Harry delivered a hard thrust as a response, pulling back just enough to look down at you. “Say it again,” he pleaded, feeling the pit of his stomach tighten as well. “Tell me again.” 

“I love you!” You moaned aloud, legs tightening around his waist as you felt your walls tremble around him. Your body shook slightly as the dam finally broke. 

“Fuck,” Harry groaned, feeling your walls tighten even further around him. He sat upright, moved his hands to your hips, and delivered quick and sharp thrusts. He was close, so fucking close. 

“Baby, fuck, I’m gonna—”

“Come inside,” you interrupted, lips parting as you felt him move in and out of you. “Come inside me, Harry.” 

He gasped loudly. Harry’s grip around your hips tightened. He looked down at you and nodded, watching your breasts bounce with each thrust he delivered. 

“I love you, baby,” he said quickly. “Iloveyouiloveyou,” Harry blurted out in a rush, his hips slowing down but his thrusts becoming more pointed as he felt himself get closer and closer to the edge. He delivered a couple of more thrusts until he slammed into you, his come painting your walls and filling you up. 

His own body shook and even as he pulled his hips back, Harry couldn’t help but slide back in further. Knowing that you’d be full of his come only excited him further because he slid out of you only to gather some of his come on the head of his member to push back into you. 

You gasped. 

Harry smirked. 

He stayed inside of you, despite his manhood softening. 

You tightened your legs around him, kept him close too. 

“So, another week?” You asked, panting quietly. 

Harry nodded. “Another week.” 

“What do you have planned?” 

“Everything we didn’t get to do. I plan to do it right this time,” he answered, finally pulling out of you with a quiet whimper. 

“And when we get home? Back to New York?” 

Harry smiled, reached up to cup your cheek gently and kissed your forehead. “When we get back to New York, we’re not going back to what we were. No… everything’s going to change.” 

“I think I like the sound of that,” you smiled, leaning into his touch. 

“I love you, baby,” Harry said once more. 

You felt your stomach flip. Your smile grew. “I love you too, Harry.” 

He was right. The lines were blurred long before this trip and it took this long for you both to realize that the person you both had been searching for was right in front of you both all along. 

Sure, you had graduated first in your class and picked up respect wherever you went, but nothing ever helped with the feeling of anxiety and dread that would fill your body during unknown social situations.

You remember the first day of training with Maverick. You had sat in the back, no one joining your table. You watched as the other pilots talked and shared looks with each other, like they had all known each other for years.

Coming into the military as a woman was hard enough, but by the end of your time at TOPGUN, you had soared above your commanding officer's expectations. During the last week of training, you got the order to become a reserve pilot for an upcoming mission. While you shook as you held the paper, your mentor patted you on the back and assured you that he had made the right recommendation and you would do just fine.

What no one had expected were the three enemy aircrafts that trailed after the team of aviators. You remember the buzz over your headset; you can still recall the words and how your heart jumped at the command.

"Reserve one, report to hanger one. Requesting immediate backup."

You remember how you flexed your fingers before steering in the direction of the take-off strip. How you breathed deeply as you pulled up into the air. How you didn't dare blink as you spotted the enemy aircrafts ahead of you.

You did your job right; it was evident in the way that two of the planes peeled off to come after you.

It truly was a dogfight once they circled around to surround your jet, but somehow you had managed to outmaneuver them, forcing them to eject.

Touching down on the tarmac, you were surrounded by cheers and hands grabbing at you. It was only natural that you landed the name Lucky from the senior pilots on the squad.

Still, now you were here. Surrounded by older pilots once again. No one from your class. No one you recognized.

It was the last round of training before the end of the day. You still hadn't flown yet. Instead, you watched as different teams walked to and from the tarmac, each coming back rubbing their arms and shoulders.

You had sat near a man with glasses, who had sent you a kind smile when you had first walked in. It seemed like the most logical choice to stay by his side for the majority of the day.

While you hadn't spoken to him, Bob watched you closely. You seemed nervous, but not unprepared. Your fingers bunched on your flight suit every few minutes, and you closed your eyes every time Maverick's voice rang out over the radio, announcing a kill.

Bob watched as you bit your bottom lip raw, the skin splitting in the middle by the afternoon. He told himself to look away, but couldn't help but be drawn back to the sight as you licked the now raw skin.

When Maverick called your name, along with Reuben "Payback" Fitch and Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia, you shot straight up from your seat. You shook both the men's hands as they smiled at you, but you didn't miss the look of disbelief they flashed each other when they thought you weren't looking.

"Alright, let's see what you got!" Maverick's voice crackled through the comms as you took a soothing breath in.

You cleared your throat before talking. "Um, Payback, Fanboy, stay at my six until we find Maverick. I'll watch north and east for the time being. Over."

"Copy that," a voice sounded as you began to circle the area.

This was good. This was great. You were doing well so far. You had a great team, and you trusted them. Well, you didn't know them, but still, you trusted them. That thought alone helped quell your nerves just a bit.

Down at the base, Jake laughed as your voice rang through the radio.

"Jesus, she sounds like a frightened baby deer. We should call her Bambi, not Lucky," he joked, earning a few hums and laughs from the other men in the room.

"Shut up, Bagman. She's been in the air all of five seconds," Phoenix defended.

This just made the man laugh harder. Nat shook her head and looked to her new WSO with a frown. But when she did, she spotted a scowl on the kind man's face.

"She'll be fine," Nat spoke quietly to him, but Bob just nodded as his face hardened further.

"I really don't like that guy," he confessed to Phoenix, earning a chuckle.

From your peripheral vision, you spotted a black blur. Something that sends full-body chills down your spine.

"Maverick spotted, four o'clock. Breaking into Delta Whisky formation. Over," your voice called out.

"Good catch, falling into formation now," Payback replied, following your jet closely.

Just a Maverick sped up to your right side, you and Payback fell back, cutting your engines, giving you a full view of Maverick's jet in front of your noses.

"Engage, engage," you ordered. Soon Payback's jet was breaking left while you curved right, surrounding Maverick.

But the older aviator pulled up before you could get a clean shot.

"Come on!" you groaned, wracking your brain for ways to catch Maverick off guard.

Suddenly, he was pulling the same maneuver on you, falling freely in the air and painting a target on your backs.

Without thinking, you pulled up into the air. The bright California sun in front of you, blinding you a bit.

"Whoa, Lucky, what the hell are you doing?" Fanboy called out as you continued to pull up.

"Drop back, don't lose sight of Maverick," you ordered, ignoring the tone of his voice.

Sure enough, Maverick took the bait, chasing after you. "Scared, Lucky? Didn't take you as someone who ran from danger."

His voice made you huff. The pressure made your skull sink further into the back of your seat and your breathing became more labored.

But just as quickly as Maverick had caught up to you, he had lost you all the same. The sun now glaring through his windshield.

The beeping of a tone sounded through his jet as he laughed.

"Clever, nice work," he told you, spotting your jet in his rearview.

Bob smiled brightly at you when you had touched back down on the tarmac. You hadn't quite met his eyes, but the little glances you sent his way were more than enough.

"Time to celebrate!" Payback called out, hands coming down to shake your shoulders. "Guess you are lucky after all."

જ⁀➴

You sit with Bob on a sandy blanket, watching the rest of the squad run around the beach and swim in the ocean. Leaning into his shoulder, Bob runs a soothing hand up and down your thigh.

"Having a good day?" he asks, sunglasses dipping as he looks at your flushed face. You weren't usually one to drink, but the watermelon margarita mix that Penny offered today made your eyes light up.

Bob laughs as you nod, sipping on your drink, eyes blinking lazily. It had to be your third drink of the day, something that made you pliable to his touch.

As his fingers comb through your hair, you hum, leaning closer into his touch.

When Maverick announced that you would be staying as a permanent fixture in San Diego, Bob had taken the opportunity to finally ask you out. He knew military relationships were hard, especially if you weren't stationed together. But this news, combined with the growing swell of emotions he had for you, pushed him to confess his feelings.

He had been a perfect gentleman since. Always opening the door for you and driving you both everywhere. As your relationship progressed, he started to break the physical barrier by guiding you through crowded areas with a warm hand on your back or pressing sweet kisses on your hairline when he saw you in the morning before training. It was new, but not unwelcome.

You had first bonded, truly bonded, when Maverick had taken the squad out to the beach to play football. When everyone around you began stripping their shirts off, your hands stayed glued to your sides.

"Not ready to get your first California sunburn?" a voice sounded next to you.

Whipping around, you saw Bob applying sunscreen across his arms, his fingers rubbing the white cream into the firm muscles.

"Something like that, yeah," you told him sheepishly, trying to look anywhere but his hands.

"Yeah, it's a bit intense. Here," he said, holding out the bottle, "I have more than enough to share."

Your fingers brushed his as you grabbed the bottle. "Thanks." You gave him a small smile as you began applying the creamy mixture to your arms and legs.

From there on, it seemed like Bob was always looking out for you.

You felt a little sluggish during training? He was by your side with a granola bar and a sports drink from the vending machine.

You ran out of your drink at the Hard Deck? He was handing you another without you having to ask.

You were anxious after a particularly hard day? He stood outside the locker rooms and walked you to your car, only letting you go home after you assured him you were okay.

But all these small moments spiraled into something more just a mere week after the uranium mission had ended.

Maverick and Penny hosted the squad for a celebratory barbecue, everyone bringing drinks and dishes to contribute to the large spread. Bob found you in the kitchen prepping with Penny, helping her plate things that were coming out of the oven and chop garnishes, even as she tried to shoo you away.

You had been laughing at something she said when the knife in your grasp slipped, coming down to draw blood from your finger.

He registered the look on your face before you could even wince, standing up from his place on the couch to make his way over to you.

Bob cradled your hand near his chest, inspecting it thoroughly before guiding you towards the guest bathroom. His large hand held yours as you ran it under the sink, warm water soothing the cut and washing away the blood.

"Will you sit?" he gestured towards the lip of the tub as he dug through Penny's cabinet for a first aid kit.

It wasn't until he settled between your legs, dropping to his knees so you wouldn't have to crane your neck to look at him, that you realized the position the both of you were in. His face was so close to yours, you could almost feel his breath fanning across your cheeks. One hand found your calf, fingers pressing lightly into the muscle to steady himself, while the other dug through the first aid kit to grab the right supplies. And his chest was pressed up against your knees, almost crowding you, but instead it felt like he was just trying to assure you that he was right there for you.

Like he sensed you looking at him, his eyes found you. You hadn't meant to, but your eyes dropped down to his lips for less than a second.

But it had been enough for Bob, who moved to hold your jaw in his strong hand. When you fluttered your eyes shut and began to lean into his touch, he pressed his lips against yours.

He felt you smile a few seconds into the kiss, something that made his heart beat wildly. With a squeeze to your waist, he pulled away reluctantly. When he saw the confused look on your face, he moved to stroke your cheek.

"Gotta clean this up first, okay? Then I'll give you another kiss."

His words made your cheeks flush, but you just nodded and let him work.

"Earth to Lucky, you okay, baby?" Bob's words snap you out of your memories.

"Yeah, sorry. Just thinking," you say, smile on your face as he nods and kisses your forehead lightly.

The day was like any other. Jake and Bradley are running circles around themselves, entertaining everyone on the squad. Phoenix and Javy are dipping their toes in the ocean while sipping on beers. Mickey and Reuben are tossing a football up and down the beach. And you and Bob are sitting and enjoying the sun and the slight breeze of salty ocean air.

"Alright, lovebirds, up and at 'em. Shirts and skins," Maverick calls from the water.

Bob grumbles at this. After telling you about the horrible burn he got his week stationed out in California, you haven't blamed him for not taking his shirt off, even if it did mean you missed out on seeing his toned body. You never took yours off either, but Bob had never pushed for the reason, instead always offering to double-check your sunscreen application. You always giggled at this, knowing it was an excuse for him to run his fingers up and down your body.

"Split up, you two. I don't want a repeat of last week," Maverick says as you approach the group.

"You should've instated a no-dating policy, Mav," Rooster teases, shit-eating grin on his face. The others laugh at the thought of last week's game when you and Bob had become too distracted with each other, leading to him being laid out on the sand as Javy plowed into him.

"Come over here, Lucky. Never lost a game with you on our team," Jake calls, wagging a finger in your direction, beckoning you over. You nod, not thinking much of it, tugging off your T-shirt to join the skins, leaving you in your denim shorts and bikini top.

As you line up, mentally preparing yourself for a game of football after three drinks, you meet Bob's eyes and smile immediately. Just as Jake is about to hike the ball, a voice calls out from behind you.

"Whoa, Lucky! I didn't know that was why you had your call sign."

Reuben's teasing didn't go unnoticed by the group, all of them sharing confused looks.

For a brief moment, blood rushes to your head as the comment sobers you up. Your hands slap to cover your lower back as you yelp and look in the man's direction.

"Lucky, what's wrong?" Bob calls out from across you. When you send him a panicked look, he immediately rushes over to your side.

"Wait a minute, Bob hasn't seen this either?" Reuben asks, almost doubling over in laughter now.

You snap over to look at him as Bob's hands find your hips. "No, Reuben! No one knows except my old squad. It was a dumb, drunk mistake. Just like this," you groan, hands still not moving from their position.

"Baby?" Bob asks in a low voice so only you could hear, genuine worry on his face as he looks to you for answers.

You look around and see the rest of the squad looking at you, too. It makes you want to crawl up into a ball right on the beach.

Meeting Bob's gaze again, he thinks you almost look scared. It's only further confirmed when you speak again, "Don't be mad, okay?"

He nods his head vigorously as you bite hard at your bottom lip. Finally, your hands drop, and you turn around to show him your now exposed back.

What he sees makes a furious blush spread up from his throat to his cheeks, painting him in a shade very close to cherry red.

A four-leaf clover surrounded with small ribbons and other smaller clovers covers a sliver of your lower back, right in between where your dimples rest. The ink in perfect contrast with your otherwise blank skin, grabbing his attention immediately.

You look over your shoulder to see his reaction and swallow when you see the open-mouthed look he's giving you, not even tearing his eyes away for a moment to meet your gaze.

Bob swallows hard.

The tattoo wasn't what shocked him.

Well, it was. A little.

But mostly it was the fact that after a few months of dating, countless mornings, movie nights, beach trips, and stolen kisses, he'd somehow never seen it.

"You have a tattoo?" he finally manages. His voice coming out much higher than intended.

The squad erupts.

"A tattoo?" Fanboy shouts.

"On Lucky?" Phoenix laughs, like she can't believe it's true.

"No way." Jake looks at you, downright delighted. "Oh, this is the best day of my life."

You groan at them, your stomach sinking further at their jests. "I hate all of you."

"No, no, no," Hangman says, pointing dramatically. "You don't get to drop a surprise lower-back tattoo into the middle of football and then act like we're the problem."

"Agreed," Rooster chimes in.

Before you can speak again, you're drawn to your boyfriend, who looks personally betrayed, not hiding his puppy dog eyes very well. "You didn't tell me."

You turn toward him with a nervous look. "It never came up."

His brows furrow at this, eyes immediately dropping back to the tattoo. "It definitely should've come up."

The redness spreading across his face only makes everyone laugh harder.

"Bob is malfunctioning," Phoenix announces, hand coming up to her eyes to wipe away the tears.

"I am not," he defends, still not looking anywhere but your skin.

"You've been staring at her back for thirty seconds," Bradley teases as the squad laughs in agreement.

"I have not," he mumbles quieter this time.

"Thirty-five now," Fanboy adds.

You bury your face in your hands. "Can someone please kill me?"

"Nope," Maverick says from the middle of the group. "This is too entertaining." The older pilot folds his arms and grins as you send him a look of disdain.

"So what's the story?" Jake asks, football now tucked neatly under his arm. The rest of the squad looks to you expectantly as you just shake your head.

"No."

"No? You can't say no! You've derailed our whole afternoon," Jake argues back.

"Or you could just act like it's any old tattoo. Is it really that big of a deal?" you sass back, eyes rolling at his ask.

"Is Lucky with a four-leaf clover tattoo on her lower back a big deal? Uh, yeah, I think so," Jake says, gesturing for everyone to agree with him.

When they do, you look to your boyfriend once more. His eyes find yours, and you silently plead for him to save you. Instead, he sends you a small look, shock still on his face.

"I'd like to hear this, too," he says as the squad whoops triumphantly. You narrow your eyes at the man, silently mouthing traitor as he looks as innocent as ever.

"Fine!"

The beach falls silent instantly at your voice.

You cross your arms, already bracing for more ridicule. "I was twenty-one."

Jake immediately doubles over laughing, "I already know this is going to be good."

"Shut it, Seresin!" you snap as he just laughs harder. "It was the night of my TOPGUN graduation. The squad I flew with earlier that week came out to celebrate me, and we may or may not have gotten a little tipsy."

"You mean drunk?" Bradley teases as you send him a death glare.

"Okay, yes, drunk." You put your hands up like you're being interrogated. "And we might have started a competition about who could drink the most in one sitting."

"But you're a lightweight," Bob says next to you as the squad laughs.

"Hey," you pout, not really defending yourself but still a little offended by his observation.

You huff before continuing.

"The loser had to get a tattoo chosen by everyone else."

The beach exploded.

"No!"

"Absolutely not."

"You lost?"

"I lost."

Jake nearly falls over, hands reaching out for support. "You're telling me Lucky got a lucky tattoo because she lost a competition?"

You cover your face, feeling your cheeks burn as you recall the night. "Yes."

The laughter becomes deafening at this. Maverick's laughing. Phoenix. Everyone. Even Bob.

Especially Bob.

"Oh my God," Bob wheezes.

"I hate you," you grumble as he tries to reach for your hand. Despite how you pull away from him, he refuses to let go.

"Baby," he calls, eyes pleading for you to look at him.

"No."

His grin softens at your stubbornness. "I think it's cute."

You narrow your eyes at the man. "You're lying."

"I'm really not." His ears immediately turn red again upon looking at the ink on your skin.

The squad notices, because of course they do.

"Oh, there it is," Fanboy shouts.

"Look at him go."

"He's red!"

"Leave him alone," you mutter, but finally laugh despite yourself. The tension slowly melting from your shoulders.

Bob squeezes your hand. Then he leans closer, close enough that only you can hear him. "I still can't believe you've been hiding that from me."

Your stomach flutters, eyes finding his. His stare is intense; it's akin to the same look he gave you last Wednesday night after you got done making out on his couch while trying to watch a movie. The memory and intention of his gaze make you nervous.

"It wasn't exactly important," you mumble, hands twitching in his hold.

His eyes drift briefly toward your lower back again before snapping upward. The movement is subtle.

Unfortunately not subtle enough, as Hangman catches it instantly. "Oh, he's looking again."

The squad erupts for a second time, whistling and calling out this time.

Bob groans, fingers squeezing yours as you giggle lightly. "Can you people not?"

"Nope," Hangman replies.

"Absolutely not," Rooster agrees.

Fortunately for you and Bob, Maverick chimes in again.

"Alright," he calls. "Now that we've all learned something new about Lucky today, can we finally play football?"

"Please," you beg as the squad laughs, but reassumes their formation.

But Bob looks at you for just a few moments longer.

For months, he'd been quietly taking care of you, bringing you drinks, walking you to your car, making sure you ate after long flights.

But somehow the thing that finally broke him wasn't a dangerous mission. It wasn't Maverick. It wasn't combat.

It was a tiny four-leaf clover tattoo.

When Bob searches for your eyes again, he finds you already looking at him.

Your smile is soft, and his expression immediately melts. The teasing around you fades into background noise.

"Still think it's cute?" you ask quietly.

His eyes flicker to the tattoo one last time. Then back to you. "Yeah."

The answer comes without hesitation, and your chest squeezes at the realization. "Even knowing I got it because I lost a drinking contest?" you test with a nervous look on your face.

A laugh escapes him, smile lines and crow's feet crinkling. "Especially because of that."

You roll your eyes, but still smile.

Bob leans close once more, "I think I'll have to take a closer look when we get home."

Heat floods your face instantly as he just watches you. "Oh my God," you squeak out.

His smile widens at this, like he knows exactly what he's doing to you.

Across the beach, Hangman points.

"There! Now she's red."

જ⁀➴

You go to grab the cooler sitting by the bed of Bob's truck, but before your hand can graze the handle, you feel your boyfriend's firm grasp on your lower tummy, tugging you in the opposite direction.

"Go sit in the car, I got it," he tells you, pressing a short kiss to the top of your head.

"Thank you, Bobby," you say, a small smile on your face as you move to climb into the passenger seat of his truck.

Despite the earlier teasing at the exposure of your tattoo, you settle into the stillness of the truck easily. It isn't until Bob joins you that you fully allow yourself to sink into the seat.

"Come 'ere, pretty," he says, opening his right arm as he starts the car. You slide over the open bench of the truck and tuck yourself into his hold.

Now leaning up against him, you close your eyes as his thumb rubs soothing circles into your shoulder. You hear the steady beating of his heart as you sit in the idling truck, the thumps calming you into a trance.

"Tired?" he asks as you nod your head, relaxing in his hold. "Let's just sit then. We can watch the sunset, then go home, how's that sound?"

"Perfect, Bobby," you mumble, hands going to wrap around his waist.

A cool chill had overcome the beach as the hours passed. Bob sees goosebumps creep up on your skin, from your arms to your tummy, the skin still exposed ever since this afternoon.

"Baby?" he asks, voice rising like it had earlier that day. The sound of it makes you sit up.

"Are you okay?" Your hand comes up to his face, holding it softly.

He nods, turning his head so he can kiss the inside of your palm. "Can I see it? Now that it's just us?"

Sure enough, the rest of the squad had pulled out of the parking lot, leaving you and Bob to watch the sunset in peace.

You blush at your boyfriend's request, but still pull away from him and turn your back towards him.

His hands find your lower back quickly, fingers tracing the delicate lines of your tattoo. One hand settles on your waist while the other continues to lightly rub your skin. You hear his breathing hitch slightly as he moves the denim fabric of your shorts down a little to get a better look.

Your fingers move towards the buttons at your front and you shimmy off the denim, dragging the fabric down your legs.

"Better?" you ask innocently. Bob's glad you don't look back at him now; surely you would see the goofy look on his face and laugh a bit.

For now, all he wanted was to take you all in, uninterrupted. No Jake or Bradley in his ear, teasing him, no Phoenix sending him looks, and no you, with your pretty gaze and soft smile. He couldn't take it.

Now he sees the swell of your ass from your bikini bottoms, your cheeks pressed up against the leather of his truck, criminal. The flimsy ties on your hips sit pretty, like they're waiting for someone to undo them. Suddenly, his eyes are tracking over your backside too, not just your once-hidden tattoo.

"Jesus, baby," he says, hands traveling further down to play with the shiny fabric of your bottoms. Bob feels himself strain a bit in his swim trunks.

As his fingers travel lower and lower, you can't help but arch away from his touch, pushing your hips back into the man's touch.

Now you look over your shoulder and see his mouth open, and his eyes blink quickly.

"Bobby," you call his name, and his eyes find you, gaze lazy but alert all at once.

"Come 'ere," he says once again, this time patting his thigh. Just as you're about to straddle his lap, his hands correct your hips, turning you so you're facing the sunset and leaning over the steering wheel.

You look back in confusion, but Bob just moves in to kiss you sweetly, stealing all the words from your throat.

"You said you wanted to watch the sunset, so watch," his voice is low now, like it was earlier on the beach. "Need a closer look, is that okay?"

Your tummy turns at his question, and you find yourself pressing into the firm muscle of his thigh, hips coming down to roll on the ridges.

Bob huffs at this and reaches for the strings of your bottoms, pulling the fabric out of the way completely, leaving you bare on his thigh. His hands find your ass, fully palming you now, squeezing the fat there.

"So pretty, you know that, Lucky?" he asks, one hand now traveling across your soft, warm skin to rest on the top of your inner thigh. Fingers are dangerously close to where you need them.

Just as you're about to answer, you feel his lips descending on your neck, pressing hot, wet kisses across the skin. You squirm even more at this, hands gripping the wheel until your knuckles go white.

"So wet against me, haven't even touched you," he teases, breath hot by your ear, as you whine.

"Need your touch, please," you beg, hips canting against his thigh once more until his hands still you into place.

"Want my fingers?" he asks as his left hand goes to slip further down from your thigh to your heat.

"Yes, yes," you plead, throwing your head back against him, leaving your throat completely exposed for him as you arch once more in his hold.

Bob dips his mouth to the front of your neck now, nipping rather than just sucking and kissing. At the same time, his thumb finds your bundle of nerves within seconds, pressing little circles of pressure against it.

"Keep moving against me, baby, I'll help you," he tells you, right hand coming to help your hips move back and forth against his thigh.

Your now pebbled nipples rub against the thin fabric of your bikini, making you whine at the feeling of the sensitive skin bouncing up and down a bit. Seeming to have no trouble moving your hips onto your boyfriend's muscle, his hand comes up your front and begins to play with the strained nipples over your top.

"Bobby, please," you cry out. Immediately, he takes one of your tits into his large palm and squeezes the fat. The rough moment makes your hips jerk, but they don't stop moving.

You yelp as he sucks at an especially sensitive part of your neck, eyes rolling back and closing as you let yourself become consumed by him.

The circles on your clit become tighter, and you can feel your boyfriend flex the muscles in his thigh with your movements. The string in your tummy begins to wind tighter and tighter.

One particular firm press at your core makes you tense up and fall apart on Bob's lap as he continues to suck at your neck and pinch at your tits.

As soon as the shakes in your thighs begin to settle, Bob moves his hand from your wet core to splay it across your tummy, tugging you back into him. As you settle on his lap, you feel the large bulge digging into your back, something that makes you whine in his hold.

Your hands leave the steering wheel, fingers are a bit cramped, but you still go to reach behind you and fiddle with the string of his swim trunks.

"Need more," you say breathlessly as he huffs into your neck.

"Yeah, yeah, you sure?" His hand come up to your jaw, turning it so he'll be able to see your face. When he does, he sees a fucked out look on your face, eyes batting sweetly and tongue coming out to wet at your lips. The sight makes him groan as he grips your face tighter and bring you into a heated kiss.

His tongue works to push into your mouth, and once you part your lips, he licks into your mouth like it's his first time tasting someone else's spit.

Your hands don't stop moving, though, and finally, you free him from his shorts, pushing the fabric down his hips as much as you can.

From here, Bob lifts your hips up and settles you on all fours on the bench of his truck. By now, the sun is long gone, and he can only see the ink of your tattoo when the moonlight catches on your body.

The sight of your dripping cunt, hanging out in the air for him, makes him all but rip the shorts off his legs as he moves to come up behind you. He can see your core swell and push against nothing, the slickness collecting on your inner thighs painting a pretty picture for him.

"Sorry, baby, I just can't help myself," he says as he dips a finger in your entrance, making your back arch and ass press into him even further. As you do so, you can feel his throbbing length against your ass cheek, jumping and rubbing into you as he stretches you out on his fingers.

Soon enough, he pushes in another finger, curling them into you at a slow pace that makes you crave more.

Sensing your dwindling patience, he bends over your frame until his mouth is by your ear. "Just getting you ready for me, okay?"

You nod at this, not trusting your voice anymore. Before he pulls up again, he brushes your hair and tucks it behind your ear, placing a sweet kiss on the crown of your head.

The kiss is sweet, but the way his fingers pump in and out of your heat is anything but. Your muscles squeeze against him, and each time it happens, you feel his hips grind into you. His member now flush with your body as he rubs himself against you at the same rhythm of his fingers.

"Please," you whine out again, and you feel his fingers leave your entrance. Now, you feel a firm hand on your lower back, thumb rubbing where your tattoo is. The other hand guides his member towards your entrance, pushing in slowly.

Bob feels your warm heat envelope him, the ridges and veins on his dick being pressed perfectly against your walls. "Oh, fuck, baby," he says as you pulse around him, not even halfway in yet.

"Feels good," you whine, pushing your hips back against him, swallowing more of him.

"Gonna hurt yourself, baby. Slow down," he groans, no real push back in his voice as he bottoms out, hips now pressed against the globes of your ass.

"Please, Bobby," you plead again, head moving to look back at the man.

He whines, seeing the look on your face. To think you were such a shy, meek thing around everyone, and now you're pushing back on his dick, begging him to fuck you into the seat of his truck.

Bob tears the T-shirt off his body before moving. On hand coming to the hem and raising it above his body, giving you a view of his abs and biceps all in one go.

His other hand roams down your back to the pretty little bow of your bikini top. You feel him fiddle with it for a minute, almost like he's contemplating whether or not he should untie them. But ultimately, he pulls the strings and lets the top fall onto the seat beneath you.

Within seconds, his hand attaches itself to your tit, rolling your nipple in his hand. The other goes back to its place on your lower back, thumb pressing into your ink. And finally, he reels his hips back and pushes into you.

You both moan at the feeling, his tip finding a deep part of you as you arch further into his hold. Soon he finds a steady rhythm, pushing his length in and out of you as you squirm underneath him.

There are so many things to look at, from the way your face presses into the leather to the way your ass bounces against his hips as he thrusts into you. But again and again, he finds himself looking at the little clover on your backside. The ink is something so foreign on your otherwise unmarked skin.

If you had asked him a few hours ago, Bob would have never expected you to have a tattoo, let alone one in this spot. But then again, he wouldn't have expected you to lull your tongue out and push your hips into his as he fucked you for the first time.

Both things were exhilarating, making his heart race and his thrusts pick up in pace, something you seemed to be a fan of as you whine underneath him.

He knows he should've laid you out on his bed, taken care of you, really taken care of you, not just let you grind against his thigh and finger you until you were whimpering under him. He should've kissed all over your body, let his mouth find your core, tasted you.

But every time he caught a glimpse of the delicate tracing of your tattoo, he felt himself reel all over again.

Bob had to have you like this, bent over and pressed into the seat of his truck. Back on full display to him, muscle and sweet skin exposed.

Still, he felt a little guilty that he let it happen like this. Couldn't even get home before he started reaching for you and thinking about your tattoo.

Instead of dwelling on the fact for any longer, he allowed himself to feel your wet heat, feel how it squeezed against him. His hand left your now raw, sensitive nipples in search of your clit, thumb wanting to find it once more to make you come again.

"So fucking good, so good, Lucky," he groans, hips slapping harsher against you as he finds your sweet spot once again.

You try to keep your eyes open, try to look at him and the blissed out expression on his face, but as soon as his thumb makes contact with your bud again, your eyes roll back into your head, and you sink into the leather underneath you.

"Warm and pretty, all for me, huh?" he asks, thumb pressing firmer, tighter circles into your clit.

Nodding, all you can do is whine at his words. The way his hand pushes on your lower back, arching you further into his hold, makes his length find a home in your heat in the best way possible.

His body comes down to yours like earlier; now you feel his rigid muscles moving against your back. The hand that was on your back gathers your hair into a sloppy ponytail as he tugs you up to his face.

"Need a kiss, please, baby," he whines, hips snapping into you at a brutal pace. Still, you can tell he's close, his body covers yours, humping into you like he has something to prove.

You nudge his nose and pucker your lips. Suddenly, he's diving in, sucking at your lips, firm and searing kisses pressed into your mouth. At the feeling of his thumb tapping against your clit, your mouth opens, giving him the perfect opportunity to capture your tongue and suck. Spit mixes and drips down your chin as you begin to shake in his hold.

Again, the thread snaps in your tummy. His length moves in you, not letting up, helping you through your climax. Bob's mouth kisses around your face, hand still gripping your hair so he can reach your cheeks, forehead, and chin with his mouth.

Soon, you feel him spill into you, groaning against your mouth. The warmth seeps into your tummy, and you find yourself wanting to curl further into his hold.

Bob heaves against your back as he works to the end of his climax. Snaking a hand around your waist, he takes you from your spot on the bench and instead plants you on his lap upright.

His arms squeeze around you as his head dips in between the softness of your neck, laying sweet kisses there.

"Are you okay? It wasn't too rough, right?" he asks, hands tracing your skin in a way that makes you shiver.

"Felt so good, I promise," you say, nudging his nose once more and leaning in for a soft kiss.

"Good, good." Bob wraps around, warm body cradling yours.

"Maybe I should get another tattoo and not tell you. I think I could relive that over and over again," you tease as he laughs into your skin, both of you still feeling a bit loopy from your pleasure.

"One surprise tattoo is enough for a lifetime," he says, tightening his arms around you.

You smile against him as the faint light from the moon dances across his features; even now, you see the teasing look he gives you.

"I was really convinced you'd be upset," you confess, the quietness of the car almost swallowing your words.

But instead, Bob pulls back to look at you. "Upset?"

"About the tattoo."

A look of genuine confusion crosses his face. "Why would I be upset?"

You shrug. "It was a stupid drunk choice, doesn't exactly scream responsible naval aviator."

Bob stares at you for a moment, like he can't believe the words coming out of your mouth.

Then he reaches forward and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

"You flew into a combat zone to back up a team that was outnumbered."

Your eyes drop.

He continues anyway.

"You graduated at the top of your class. You're the best pilot I know."

A small smile pulls at his lips.

"I think you're allowed one stupid tattoo."

A laugh escapes you. "Just one?"

"One," he confirms, nodding his head, but the smile on his face says otherwise.

"You're very generous," you tease, leaning in to kiss his lips again.

He groans into the kiss, pressing deeper, like he can't get enough of you. "I know," he whispers as you laugh.

You leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms. You were hit with a wave of confidence; the same one that hit you in the grocery aisle two days ago. After months of his teasing, you weren't just taking it anymore. Two could play at that game.

"I did end up going with the fun, truthfully," you said, tilting your head and letting a smile flirtatiously fall on your lips. You kept eye contact, your voice matching his quiet tone. "Though, if I'm completely honest, I think the company in the aisle was way more interesting than the cereal itself."

Jake froze.

The reaction was instant, and it was beautiful. For a split second, the Hangman armor cracked. His smirk was gone, and his green eyes widened in surprise. He didn't think you would ever bite back, let alone full on flirt with him. A small, almost unnoticeable red color formed on his cheeks.

You didn't say anything more as you enjoyed the view of the fighter pilot becoming disoriented over a single sentence.

The bubble you two created was quickly popped by a loud whistle from the tarmac. "Seresin! Briefing room, five minutes!" Javy shouted from the other side.

Jake blinked, coming back to reality. He straightened his posture up from the partition of your station. He looked at you, really looked at you, his eyes radiating with Hangman's captivation and Jake's warmth.

He adjusted his flight suit, his eyes never snapping away from yours. "Duty calls," he murmured, the familiar smirk landing back onto his face, though this time it was much softer. "Don't miss me too much while I'm up there."

He gave you a nod and a lingering look before turning around and heading toward the briefing room.

You watched his back as he walked away, your hand trembling just slightly as you reached for your water bottle. You took a sip as your chest started to tighten with anticipation.

Oh, you are seriously in trouble.

---

As the day was coming to a close, most of the mechanics had clocked out for the night, which made the massive space around you quiet.

You were standing on a maintenance scaffolding leaning nervously over the open cockpit of Jake’s jet. A diagnostic tablet sat in your arm as you ran a final sweep on the display wiring.

The unmistakeable sound of boots on the concrete echoed through the quiet hangar. You didn't need to look to know who it was.

"You know, they tell us that these jets are state of the art," a tired, raspy voice spoke from the floor. "But seeing you up there, I'm starting to believe the real part that's state of the art is entirely behind the scenes."

You glanced over the side of the scaffolding. At the bottom of the metal stairs was no other than Jake. You took one quick glimpse at him; he looked absolutely exhausted, but the sight of him made your heart stop.

His flight suit was unzipped down to his waist, the sleeves tied securely around his hips. It left him in a dark black tee shirt that was fitted to his chest. His hair was messy from his helmet, which he held loosely in his left hand.

"The state of the art is entirely structural, Seresin," you called down to him, turning your attention back to the tablet in your hands to hide the sudden blush on your face. "Though, if it were up to you pilots, I think you'd fly these things until the wings literally fell off."

"Hey, I think it's in the job description to push the limits," he said.

The metal stairs creaked as he climbed up them. He stepped into your workspace. The air quickly grew warmer, the smell of the air starting to fill with his scent. He leaned against the cockpit frame, looking down at your tablet, then up at you.

"Everything looking okay?" he asked. The normal banter was there, but his voice was lower, ditching the edge he usually had to it.

"Just about done," you murmured, your eyes remaining on the tablet. "Need to verify the pitch-rate gyros. You had kind of a hard pull during your drill earlier this afternoon."

"Yeah. The air was bumpy today," he said softly.

He didn't move away from you. He lifted his body from the jet, moving himself closer to you. The playful rhythm that you both had earlier in the day felt different now.

The hangar was empty, with no audience to perform for. The silence between you grew heavy, but charged with a tension that made your fingers move nervously over your tablet.

You could his eyes focused on your face intensely.

"Jake," you said, barely above a whisper. You decided to finally look up from the screen. "You're distracting me."

He had a sudden shift in his posture as he let out a ragged breath. His helmet dropped onto the pilot's seat in front of him.

He didn't stop himself as he stepped right into your space, his hands finding the metal railing on both sides of you. He trapped you between his arms and the jet.

"That's okay. I'm completely distracted," he admitted, his green eyes shooting into yours. Hangman was gone; Jake looked entirely undone.

"I have spent the last five hours flying in the air thinking about what you said to me this morning. I'm done playing this little game darlin. I don't want to wait until next weekend to hopefully run into you. Let me take you on a date."

Your heart felt like it stopped for a moment. The directness and honesty in his voice was intoxicating. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to maintain eye contact. A small smile started to form on your face despite your nervous system making the rest of your body race.

You tilted your head up and made your voice quiet. "It depends. Is this Hangman asking me out or Jake?"

The effect of using his first name was immediate. His shoulders dropped, the shield he always wears completely fell off right in front of you. His face softened into something vulnerable. It made your chest ache. He got closer, closing the few leftover inches between you two.

His eyes locked into yours with honesty. "Jake," he promised. His voice was rough and sent goosebumps down your spine. "I promise you. It's Jake asking."

You became completely defenseless; there was no way you were saying no to him like this.

"Okay," you managed to breathe out, "tomorrow night."

A boyish joy washed over his face, and a smile broke across yours. The tension faded when he showed a real smile; one that made him look happier.

However, he quickly noticed how exposed he had been in the hangar, and he fixed himself. He swiftly grabbed his helmet from the cockpit seat and pulled away from you. Even though his body moved, his eyes focused on your lips for a long moment. The familiar Hangman smirk put itself right back on his face as he climbed down the scaffolding.

"Tomorrow it is," he said. "Don't hurt my jet before then."

You were left leaning against the metal railing, staring at the jet in front of you.

-

Monday was one thing. Tuesday was completely different.

The moment you woke up to your alarm, you were hit with the reality of what you agreed to the night before. In 12 hours, you were going on a date with Jake Seresin.

By the time you made it to base, the knot in your stomach was tight, and a nervousness took over your entire body. The confidence you found the day before was gone and self-consciousness took its place.

The hardest part? He wasn't hanging out at your station today. Most days, Hangman was incredibly hard to brush off. He always made sure his presence was known so he could get a reaction out of you. But today, he kept his distance; he was just as nervous as you were.

The realization of that hit you early on during the shift; he was strangely quiet, his hands in his pockets, his body completely still while listening to a briefing.

No words were spoken between the two of you. This Tuesday became a quiet war of quick glances. Where there's usually a blur of noise throughout the hangar, the day felt quietly cut by the tension held by your shared secret.

Around lunchtime you were at your desk, forcing your brain to wrap around fuel pump schematics. At the same time, you felt tense, as if someone was looking at you.

You raised your head and turned from the computer in front of you. Across the hangar, Jake stood with a wrench in his hand. He was standing next to Maverick, who he was supposed to be listening to, but he wasn't looking at him. He was looking straight at you.

The second his eyes connected to yours, all of the air in your lungs disappeared. He didn't smirk at you; he didn't wink. The expression on his face was soft, like his eyes were watching you intensely. It made your heart skip a beat.

You immediately shifted your face and looked at your computer in front of you, the smile that was appearing on your face unstoppable.

About an hour later, the roles reversed. Your eyes scanned the hangar as you stepped out of the tech office. You saw Jake over by a jet, inspecting a hydraulic line with Javy.

You let your eyes linger on his broad shoulders, watching how the overhead lights caught the golden blonde edges of his hair.

Almost as if he could feel your eyes on him, Jake's head snapped up. He looked past Javy, his eyes locking into yours even with all of the distance in between. It made you freeze - you expected him to break out the Hangman moves for his friend to see.

Instead, he gave you a small, private nod as his lips turned into a genuine smile. It was meant only for you.

Your boots were the only thing you could quickly find to lay your eyes on as your heart hammered against your chest. You hurried back to your desk before the heat could form a blush on your cheeks.

That was how the whole afternoon went: shared looks, breathless pauses, looking at the floor to hide your smiles. The anticipation for the evening ahead was intoxicating. It made every minute of work feel like an hour.

By 4:00, you two hadn't said a single word to each other. Yet, there's never been a time you've felt more connected to him. There was a sweet torture knowing that nobody else on base had any idea what you two were counting down to, and it was driving you absolutely crazy.

Your workstation clock felt like it was moving at half speed. You take your time packing up for the day, taking even more time to organize your tools in order to keep your hands busy and eyes off of the clock.

Around you, the office begins quieting down as people head home for the night. The anticipation and nerves for the night ahead of you however makes your chest tighten. Every shadow that passes your desk causes you to be more hyper aware than the one before it. You can't help but be distracted by the thought of how the night is going to go.

After many shadows of people wrapping up for the day, you catch the familiar stride of a particular one. Then the sound of the boots enters your ears.

Jake casually walks past your station, as if he's also just trying to make his way to the parking lot. His pace doesn't slow down at your desk; he knows as much as you do that any pause would cause suspicion. Tonight, he wants to have you entirely to himself.

As he gets closer to your station, he leans down just enough for you to catch the scent of his cologne. It hits you before his voice does.

He murmurs low and privately, "I'll pick you up at 7. Wear something casual."

You look up at him and catch him straightening back up. No wink, no cheeky grin - just another one of those genuine smiles he gave you earlier. The one that softens his face and warms his eyes.

You don't have time to reply. Before you can even take a breath, he is walking away towards the parking lot. Now you're officially counting down the hours until seven.

-

At 7:00 exactly, there's a sharp knock on your front door. When you open it, your breath hitches.

Jake is standing at the door, looking effortlessly like he just came out of a movie. He's wearing dark jeans and an olive green Henley, the shirt fitting him just right. It hugged his chest and shoulders perfectly, and the color made his eyes glisten.

For a moment, neither of you speaks. His eyes traced the lines of you fact, down your outfit, and back up to your eyes. Hangman, the one who always has some kind of comeback to throw around, is completely speechless. You made him completely speechless.

"Wow," he whispers, "hi."

You smile, a faint warmth creeping onto your cheeks. "Hi."

He takes you to a hidden Texan barbecue joint that he swears is as close to the real thing as you can get in San Diego. The atmosphere of the restaurant was loud and unrestrained, which helped remove any remaining tension that was between the two of you.

Sitting across from him at the table, you noticed every part of Hangman melt away from his personality. There was nobody around to impress or maintain the reputation; he was just Jake.

Conversation between two of you flowed effortlessly. You found yourself leaning into him, wanting to peel back every layer and figure out who Jake is outside of the hangar.

"Alright, Seresin," you teased. "Give me the real deal Where in Texas are you really from? Why did you actually join the Navy?"

Jake lets out a chuckle, his finger slowly tracing the rim of his glass. He looks up from his glass to you. "I'm from a little town outside of Austin," he starts, his voice softer than normal. "Texas is just so big, you know? I always craved more, wanted something bigger. Once I saw a jet fly over for the first time, that was it for me. It wasn't just about flying fast, it was about showing that I could conquer the toughest things the sky could bring. I simply wanted to be the best."

You nodded along, getting as much information out of him that you could. "And when you're not bossing people around at work or trying to break the sound barrier?"

"I'm surprisingly boring," he shrugs, a grin breaking on his face. "I'm somewhat of a perfectionist, if you haven't noticed. So I usually drag work home with me more often than not. I'll spend time fixing up an old truck or organizing tools to keep my hands moving. I don't really know how to slow down." He pauses and his fingers stop twiddling with the glass. He looks at you seriously. "And lately, I've been spending way more of my time thinking about you."

The confession hangs in their air, but it's not awkward. A sudden confidence floods over you. "Why me, Jake? Out of everyone there?"

Jake slowly reaches across the table, his thumb brushing the back of your knuckles so softly. "Because you don't buy Hangman," he starts quietly. "Everyone else in that hangar sees what I want them to, but you have managed to look right through it. You're so smart, you're slightly stubborn," he lets out a soft chuckle, "but the second you walk into a room, you're the only person who can manage to make me forget about everything else I'm doing."

By the time dinner is done and he's driving you back home, the temperature outside has shifted to something much cooler. He walks you up your steps, his face looking as if he's a little upset that's where the night is ending.

You unlock the door and step into the warm entryway, but you don't close the door behind you. You turn around to face him, leaning against the wooden doorframe.

"It's cold out there," you start playfully, "do you want to come in for a minute?"

Jake's eyes go wide, the question surprising him. But then his eyes go dark. "I shouldn't," he starts slowly, even though he's already taking a step in. "If I come in, I'm not going to leave."

"Then don't," you whisper.

He comes into the house fully. The second the door clicks, all restraint Jake had the rest of the night snaps. His hands find your hips and guide you back to the wall. There's no hesitation anymore. His mouth catches yours as he leans down, the kiss desperate, breathless, and revealing exactly how long you both have been waiting for that moment. One of his hands moves from your waist to your cheek, his palm cupping your jaw as he pulls you completely against him.

When he finally pulls back just an inch, he rests his forehead on yours. It's quiet for a moment, the only thing being heard is the sound of both of you trying to catch your breath. Jake stares at you, his eyes looking at your face in its entirety, ending on your lips.

Even with how dark it is in the room, you can see his vulnerability in his eyes. A vulnerability you've never seen in the hangar. Your heart is pounding against your chest. You can feel the heat radiating off of him.

His fingers find a strand of hair that he gently tucks behind your ear, his hand lingering a little too long.

"Ive been wanting to do this since the first time you ever argued with me," he admits to you. His voice was breathless and low, something you had never heard before.

You look into his eyes, a smile finding its way to your face. You whisper, "Well cowboy, you took way too long do do something about it."

A quiet laugh escapes his lips. He doesn't waste another second. His hands make their way to your waist again, his grip on you possessive and firm. He pulls you right back into him as your hands slides up the soft fabric of his shirt to the base of his neck. You fingers find their way into the short hairs at the nape of his neck to pull him in closer.

The trace of fear that lingered in your head, the voice that whispered I'm in so much trouble, completely vanishes. As his hands rest on your waist and he deepens the kiss, the fear turns into certainty.

You're not in trouble at all; you're exactly where you're supposed to be.

---

Ahh I hope you all liked it and I hope I did them justice!

For a moment, you paused, standing in your hallway and looking at who was at your door. He just waved, awkwardly. 

Well, at least you weren’t the only one feeling it.

“Is everything okay?” you asked him as you unlocked your screen door. 

The weather had been too hot recently, so your door was already open. 

Jake nodded. “Yeah.”

Others might have been confused by the question being asked without any happy smile or pretense. But, considering he was at your door, it wasn’t uncalled for that your first thought would be that something was wrong. 

“Okay,” you nodded, hoping Jake would explain why he was standing on your porch at four in the afternoon. Or, on your porch at all. 

Thankfully, he did. “I heard- well, Penny told me- Actually, Amelia told her mom and I just happened to be there so she-she told me, too and-”

“Hangman.”

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay?”

You nodded, slow. “I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

You nodded, again. “Pretty sure. Last week I had a boyfriend, this week I don’t. I don’t think there’s much to worry about.”

Jake took in a breath. “Right.”

He was still standing on your front porch. “Do you…wanna come in? Out of everyone, I didn’t expect you, like, at all.”

Jake nodded. “Me neither.”

“I don’t know what the hospitality code is,” you told him, honestly. “But…it’s hot and…I made fresh lemonade.”

Jake shrugged, shifting on his feet to try and feel less awkward. “Sure, I could go for some lemonade.”

You nodded, opening the screen door a little more. “I guess…come in then?”

“Shoes on or off?”

“Uhh, off. I-I mopped earlier.”

Jake nodded, following your preference. 

“So,” you said, pouring two glasses of fresh lemonade, as Jake walked further into your house and met you in the kitchen/dining space. “Amelia told you?”

“Uh, yeah. Kinda. Well…yes.”

“Here you go,” you said, handing him the glass. 

“Thanks. I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?” Jake asked, noticing the array of colours on your dining table. 

“Oh, no. Just…trying to pick a colour is a lot harder than I realised.”

Jake’s gaze travelled over your entire being as you looked at your dining table. Your house was almost spotless. 

He didn’t know what he had been expecting. He knew, from others, you kept a tidy house. But, after a break-up? Your entire house was…freakishly clean. 

Not psycho-medical clean – though, after finding out what your ex had done, he wouldn’t judge you if it was. But…clean like…wiping memories clean. 

The entire house smelled of lemon lysol and bleach. There wasn’t a spec of dust or dirt to be seen. Not a single streak on your windows or cabinet, or your counters. The oven looked brand-new, and so did the sink. 

And you…

Jake had seen you enough times to know you were clean and tidy. It was a very rare occurrence that he saw you with a hair out of place, looking frazzled. It was also rare he saw you look…comfortable. Don’t get him wrong, he’d known you long enough to know you were comfortable with yourself but he’d never seen you…like right now. 

Rather than a trouser suit and heels, or pressed jeans and clean trainers, you were in a very old t-shirt. The kind you keep at the back of your closet and pull out when you need to get shit done or feel comforted. Old paint splatters, torn and faded writing. 

It looked soft against your skin, and skimmed your thighs. Under its length, the calming colour of your cotton shorts poked out. Your hair, which was usually neat, even when it was in a blow-out, was tied into a messy knot at the base of your skull. 

“Want some help?” Jake asked, motioning to the nail polish colours. “I do have sisters so I have some experience.”

“If you ask me what vibe am I going for, I’m gonna tell you now that I don’t know.”

Jake chuckled, taking a seat across from the one that was already away from the table. “Well, for starters, we can take this one out.”

“Why?” You asked, sitting down in your seat. 

“Because you wore that last time I saw you.”

You were too tired to question how, or even why, he knew that. 

“Okay.”

In the space of two minutes, Jake had whittled your options down from seventeen to one. 

A fresh mint green. 

“Seriously?”

Jake just looked at you, calmness in his eyes. “It symbolises freshness and a renewal.”

You stared at him. “What?”

“Don’t judge me for knowing what colours symbolise.”

“I’m not. I’m just…shocked.”

“Well,” he held the bottle up to you. “What can I say? I’m full of surprises, sweetheart.”

Taking the bottle from him, you sat forward and unscrewed the cap. The prep for your nails had been finished before Jake had knocked on the door. Halfway through painting, you smudge the paint a little. But, before you could ask, Jake held out a q-tip soaked in nail polish remover. 

“Thank you.”

“Told you, I have experience.”

You nodded, cleaning up the edges. “Your sisters taught you well.”

“I’ll tell them you said so. They’ll be thrilled to hear it.”

“The team's worried about you,” Jake said after you had finished. “They haven’t seen you around The Hard Deck for a week. Or on base.”

“So they sent you to investigate?”

Jake shook his head, sitting forward. “No. I came here because…I don’t actually know why. Amelia told me what happened and then…I was here.”

Rather than ask questions, you switched subjects just a little. “I’ve been busy.”

“Cleaning?”

“I did that today. No, with work.”

“You’ve still been going to work?”

You shrugged. “Just because my relationship ended, doesn't mean the rest of the world ended with it.”

“That’s true but–”

“It’s better for me if I work.” You cut in. “It keeps me distracted from…dealing with what happened.”

“That doesn’t sound healthy.”

“Neither does burning down his life,” you said. “At least, this way, I don’t sit and overthink everything at once. I don’t let the anger consume me. I…can take a step back. Judge it. Find some…clarity and then…try and find a way to move on.”

“Still,” Jake took a sip of his drink. “If you ever want to burn his life down, I know of at least a dozen people who will help you. Myself included.”

You chuckled, quietly. “Thanks.”

“I’m sorry for what he did to you.”

You just shrugged. “It is what it is. I can’t…change the past. Or his feelings. Or his opinion of me.”

“He’s an asshole, Y/n. You deserved better. You deserve better.”

You just nodded, rolling your lips together. Logically, you knew he was right. But…you’d been with your ex for so long, and had suspected the truth he’d told you that you couldn’t bring yourself to agree with Jake. 

“Truth is,” you looked away for a moment, before looking back at Jake. “I think I knew. I knew he was settling. I knew he wasn’t happy.”

“Settling? Is that what he told you?”

You looked down at where your two hands were lightly gripping your lemonade glass. You couldn’t look at Jake, not fully, not while you told him. It was hard enough re-living the memory in your head. 

“We, uh,” you sniffed, willing the tears away. “We had been talking– discussing our relationship for a couple hours. And, I’d asked him to tell me the truth. His truth. And he did.”

“Y/n-”

“He said that I was the one guys settled with, not the one they looked for.”

It had hit you like a punch to the gut, then. But now it was hitting you like a freight train. 

“A-and it’s…well, it’s the first time it’s been phrased like that. But…” You looked up at your ceiling, quickly wiping the falling tears away. “It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve been told something like that, you know? I don’t even know why I’m getting upset-”

In barely half a second, there was the sound of wooden chair legs scraping across your kitchen tiles before Jake was by your side, hugging you. 

And you just cried. 

“I’m really sorry.”

Jake shook his head as he crouched beside you, keeping his arms around your frame as he pulled away. With the back of his fingers, then his thumb, he wiped away your tears. 

“No. You have nothing to be sorry for. Your ex is an asshole. And a liar, to boot. Y/n…you are so much more than what he thinks.” 

Jake wanted to kick your ex into next Sunday. And the Sunday after that. And the one after that. Until he felt as much pain, as Jake currently did with anger. 

“And so much more than whatever – whoever said things like him. Jesus, you are a powerhouse. And a knock-out. I have seen you walk into Navy bars and have everyone in there following your orders before they’ve even asked your name. You’re allowed to cry. You’re allowed to hurt, and feel hurt. You have nothing to apologise or be sorry for.”

Then, he placed one hand in yours, gripping it tightly, before laying his other gently at the side of your face. 

“Sweetheart, I need you to look at me when I say this. You are a wonderful person. You are smart, and strong, and capable of doing…pretty much everything. In fact, I don’t think there’s anything you can’t do. Kinda annoying really.” Jake mumbled the last bit. 

You chuckled through your tears, tasting the salt on your lips. 

Jake smiled at you. “But you are and deserve so much more than those assholes have ever tried to make you think.”

Taking a breath, you nodded, holding his hand. “Thank you, Jake.”

Jake nodded. “I mean it. You are a true wonder, Y/n. Don’t let anyone try and convince you you’re not.”

On the brink of tears again, but for a separate reason, you leaned in and hugged Jake. And he didn’t hesitate in hugging you back. 

“Just to be clear,” Jake said into your hair. “If you do ever want him to, you know, disappear…you’ve got a shit-ton of people who would help and wouldn’t bat an eyelid.”

You chuckled. “I’ll think about it.”

Surprisingly, or maybe not so, Jake stayed for the rest of the evening. 

He ordered your favourite take-out. You asked how he knew, but when he gave a half-arsed excuse about Natasha mentioning it a while ago, you couldn’t help but wonder what the real answer was. 

Was it the same reason he knew what nail polish colour you’d last worn?

You’d asked him about his family – mostly his sisters. You wanted to know more about the women that had trained him so well in the art of nail polish colours. 

Out of all the films that were on your streaming services, he’d chosen one that you actually found comforting. It was also one you hadn’t seen in a while. Your ex didn’t particularly like it, so you’d just…not watched it. 

It was somewhere, a few days later, as you were surrounded by multiple piles of books – some you owned, others you had just bought since Jake had knocked on your door at eight in the morning – that you realised Jake had done more for you, as a friend, in less than a week than your ex had done for most of your relationship. 

He’d said he was taking you for coffee, then for lunch at the Hard Deck. Penny wanted to see you and you needed to get out of the house before the smell of lysol killed you off. 

As a treat (though it seemed to be his plan anyway) Jake drove you to the bookstore where you bought most of the books on your TBR list. They were also the books you’d avoided buying because your ex said there was no room for them, despite four of the shelves in your bookcase holding one or two picture frames and a plant. 

He actually listened when you talked. And, when you didn’t, he encouraged it. 

Before everything had happened, you and Jake hadn’t exactly been close. Truthfully, you hadn’t even been friends. You thought, he thought you were too uptight. And you thought he was a fuck-boy turned slightly competent adult asshole. 

Any conversations you did share before you cried in his arms, in your kitchen, had always been shut down pretty quickly. 

But now? You found conversation easy with him. For every question he asked you, and you answered, you wanted to know the same about him. And, he answered you as honestly as he could. 

“Let me help,” Jake said as he stepped back into the room. 

“It’s okay,” you told him, as you teetered on a chair to reach the top of your bookshelves to shove a heavy basket on top. “I’ve got it.”

Where you expected him to just agree and walk away, Jake stood his ground. “You’re gonna fall.”

“I’m fine.”

“Sweetheart, I know you like doing stuff on your own. But, just because you can, shouldn’t mean you have to. Please, let me help?”

With a sigh (how the hell are books this heavy? They’re condensed in a basket), you balanced the basket on your knee as you stood, praying mantis style, on top of the chair. 

“Please?” He asked, again, holding out his hands to take the basket. 

“Just so you know,” you said, finally handing him the basket. “This goes against every fibre of my being.”

“I know it does,” Jake smiled, holding the basket under his arm whilst holding out his hand to help you down. 

Once you were finally down, he stepped onto the chair and in one smooth motion, lifted the basket on top of the bookshelf and pushed it back. 

“Thank you for letting me help you.”

You nodded, trying to remind yourself that you could accept help and didn’t have to push through to do everything alone. “Thank you for helping me.”

Jake smiled, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your cheek as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “Come on, I made dinner.”

“Oh, thank you god!” You turned around quickly, heading towards your landing. 

“Thank god?” Jake laughed, following you. “Thank me, I made it.”

“Thank god and thank Jake!” You shouted, practically skipping down the stairs. 

You’d been so busy organising your bookshelves, you'd almost forgotten about dinner. The second Jake had secured the new shelves to the wall, he’d left you to ‘talk to your books’. 

You’d denied that you talked to your books, until you apologised to them when you accidentally dropped a hardback onto a set of paperbacks. 

Before you knew it, more than six months had passed since your break up. And you’d never felt more free. Or more loved. 

Jake had helped hype you up when you decided to get back into the dating game. Between himself, Natasha and, during one facetime call, Jake’s sisters – you’d been on a total of three dates out of a potential ten. 

And they’d been…nice. 

Until one got too suggestive, another bailed half-way through the date to go on another one, and one had admitted he already had a girlfriend. 

“He’s an ass, but at least he was honest.” Natasha took a sip of her beer. 

You shrugged, taking a sip of your own drink. “True. But, still.”

“Yeah…bar on the floor?”

You nodded. “Just about.”

“Actually,” Natasha sat up. “Maybe not. Am I right in saying I saw you and Bagman at that new coffee place the other morning?”

“Probably. What about it?”

Natasha smiled. “Think there’s something there?”

“Between…me and Jake?”

She nodded. “Why not?”

“We’re just…friends.”

Natasha laughed. “Sure.”

“We are!” You sighed in laughter. “Look, Jake…helped me after everything that happened. Our friendship is still in its early days, technically. And…I don’t know if I’m ready for another relationship yet. I like my space.”

“Even more when Jake’s there.”

“I won’t deny that…maybe it’s…nicer having him around.” You tried to hide your smile but you were failing. “But, seriously, we’re just friends.”

“Okay, fine.” Natasha agreed. “But when you two get married, I want people to know I called it first.”

Just a little over a year since your break-up, you didn’t realise just how close your reality would come to Natasha’s request. 

With a rare weekend off, and with multiple errands to run, you and Jake decided to do them together. 

He needed to pick up a few orders from the hardware store, drop off some dry-cleaning, and pick-up his click and collect orders from the bookstore. Meanwhile, you needed to do a bulk stock of groceries, return a clothing order, and having a look around the bookstore wouldn’t hurt. 

In the hardware store, whilst Jake marched off with the customer sales rep to find the correct size of his items, you’d wandered off towards the paint sample and card displays. 

By the time Jake had finished, and came to find you, you had a handful of different coloured cards. 

“Thinking of redecorating?”

You hummed. “Maybe. Depends on if I prefer a different colour.”

Heading out of the store, neither you nor Jake noticed the wandering stare of a man, who was with his girlfriend as she picked out bathroom tile samples, followed you and Jake’s hand that gently rested at the bottom of your back. 

By the time everything was done, and you had another pile of books to add to your collection, yourself and Jake had stopped off to pick up dinner and headed back to your place. 

The next day, after doing a drop off at the recycling centre, yourself and Jake had decided to stop off at a small diner. 

“Booth or counter?”

Both of you agreed on the counter. Between the two families of five on either ends of the room, the strollers at the end of a few others, and the time of day; it was safer and easier to pick the counter. 

You’d be able to hear each other, at least. And keep out of people’s way as they wrangled their kids to sit down and eat their food. 

At the counter, Jake sat facing you, your legs loosely slotted in between his own. The waitress took your order, and returned with two coffees whilst you both waited. However, somewhere between one of the families leaving, and a couple entering, your conversation with Jake over paint colours got cut short. 

“Y/n?”

You did a double take over your shoulder as you heard someone say your name. But, the minute you realised who it was, you wished you’d pretended to ignore them. 

Jake’s hand that had been resting loosely on his thigh shot out, discreetly to your knee.

“Simon?” 

He smiled at you. Jake wanted to punch him in his teeth. 

“Hi. Hey.”

“Hi? What…what are you doing here?”

He was still smiling, a little out of breath. The kind of smile that says he’s pleasantly surprised to see an old friend. Except, you weren’t an old friend. And you had no interest in ever seeing his face again. 

“I just…we decided to stop in.”

“We?” Jake asked. 

Over his shoulder, Simon motioned to the woman who was sliding herself into one of the empty booths. 

“Does she know you’re talking to me?”

“I-I was coming to order, anyway. I just…” Simon’s gaze flicked between yourself and Jake. “Actually, I wanted to say…I’m sorry, are you two together? Or could I have a minute alone with-”

“That’s none of your business. And, no.” 

Simon stood back, offended. “I don’t know who you are, but we actually-”

“There is no ‘we’. And he can stay.”

“Y/n-”

“I never wanted to see your face again, but you seem persistent. Say what you’ve got to say and then move the fuck away.”

Simion sighed, looking between you and Jake, clearly annoyed. 

“I saw you guys yesterday. At the hardware store, right?”

You squeezed Jake’s hand. 

“Are you stalking her?” 

“No! No! We were picking out samples. Honestly. You can ask my girlfriend. But…Y/n, when I saw you…I made a promise to myself. If I saw you again, I’d talk to you.”

“And say what, Simon?”

“That I made a mistake,” he said, eventually. His voice went low, and soft. As if it was a secret he only wanted you to know, even though Jake could fully hear him. “You…you were great. Really. I-I’m trying to build my life with my girlfriend now, but-”

“I swear to god, if you say you’re still in love with her-”

“Jake.”

Jake stopped talking, but he continued to shift in his seat as you held his hand. 

“Clearly, your boyfriend is the protective type.”

“After everything you did to me, if you’re about to profess your undying love for me, then I don’t blame him.”

Jake’s murderous gaze didn’t leave Simon’s face, but his ears did perk up at the fact you hadn’t corrected Simon. 

“Look,” Simon took a step closer. “What I’m trying to say is…I should have settled with you. We had it good, right?”

“Don’t touch me.”

“I’m sorry,” he lifted his hand that had been reaching out to hold your arm. “But, we did, didn’t we? Surely, you can remember?”

For a moment, Jake got worried when you didn’t answer Simon. Your gaze just seemed to travel across his before it fell onto the woman sitting in the booth, waiting patiently. 

Then you moved. 

“Stay here,” you told Jake before ducking past Simon. 

“Uh, Y/n- wait-”

Jake stayed where he was, and watched what was happening. And, apparently so was the waitress on the other-side of the counter. 

She just smiled at Jake before turning back to watch what was about to happen. 

Reaching the booth, you stopped. You seemed friendly enough, introducing yourself to the woman. She shook your hand with a welcoming and warm smile. Meanwhile, Simon looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. 

Then the pleasantries began to fade. 

The woman looked from you, and then to Simon. Jake couldn’t hear what was being said, but he figured there were a lot of questions. Then a lot of pleading from Simon just before he tried to lay a hand on your arm again. 

Both yourself and the lady told him to back off. 

You seemed to be apologising, but explaining something. The woman shook her head and looked at you with a thankful look in her eyes as she explained something else to you. 

Scooting out of the booth, the lady hugged you. Then turned to Simon. On the table, there was an old cup of coffee left. 

Lifting it, she splashed it across Simon before looking at you once again with a thankful look. She also handed you a business card before leaving gracefully. 

Meanwhile, you looked at Simon and said something before you turned your back on him for good. 

Looking at Jake, you gave a relieved, if slightly awkward, look. 

“What happened?”

“Uhh…” 

“A lot to unpack?” Jake asked as you sat back down, and the waitress was called away to another table.

“Yeah,” you said, letting out a surprised breath. “She gave me her business card. Our next coffees are on the house.”

Jake looked at the business card. It was the same title and logo of the small coffee chain you had both been attending almost religiously. 

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Feel good?”

You nodded. “Definetly.”

“Well, let's wait til the waitress gets back. She seemed interested, too.”

You chuckled, looking down at the business card, feeling elated. But, then it dawned on you. 

“I-I’m sorry for not correcting him, about the boyfriend thing.”

Jake shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I don’t want you thinking I ignored it on purpose, or to make him feel jealous or-”

Jake smiled at you. “It’s okay. Besides, let him feel jealous. He’s an ass who didn’t appreciate you. He’s also an ass who didn’t deserve you.”

With a smile, you reached for Jake’s hand and squeezed it three times. “Thank you.”

“You looked pretty badass dealing with him.”

“It was a long time coming.”

Jake nodded. “I hope you’re proud of yourself. Because I know I’m proud of you.”

You didn’t have time to respond further than a smile because the waitress suddenly appeared once more, armed with a dozen questions and compliments. 

A few hours later, you and Jake pulled up to The Hard Deck to find most of the Dagger Squad running around on the beach, playing football. You stopped to talk with Penny, where Jake told her she should be proud of you, before he was called away by Coyote. 

Pressing a kiss to your head, he held onto your hand only letting go when he got too far away, making you promise you’d come outside with Penny. 

“You two look cosy,” Penny smiled, raising her brows as Jake disappeared outside. 

“It’s been an eventful day.”

“Eventful weekend. I saw you two grocery shopping.”

“Penny.”

Penny just smiled, leaning on the bar top. “Call me old fashioned, but that’s usually reserved for either roommates or couples. And, since I know you both live separately and alone…”

“It’s not like that. We’re just…we’re friends.”

“Who hold hands?”

“Well-”

“And kiss?”

“Casually. And never, you know, on the lips-”

“And are inseparable?”

“We’re not-”

“Don’t even bother trying to deny it.”

With a defeated sigh, you gave up. Penny just chuckled. 

“You can admit you have a feelings-”

“Whoa, hey, no. No- there are no feelings.”

Penny’s lips curved up. “But there is something?”

You sighed. “Okay. There might be a…” You rolled your eyes, feeling awkward as you admitted the truth. “Tiny, miniscule- like, so small it’s practically insignificant, crush on Jake. But, I mean, come on!”

You pointed your hand to the window where he was playing football with the rest of the squad.

“He’s smart, and capable. He doesn’t make me feel like shit. He’s my friend. And…he looks like that.”

Penny chuckled. “Sweetie, you don’t have to defend yourself to me. Or even to him if you were to tell him.”

“What? No. No, no, no.” You shook your head. “That can’t-”

Penny ignored you. “That boy had been pining after you for so long, I don’t even know how he hasn’t killed your ex for doing what he did.”

“What?”

Penny nodded. “Oh, yeah. A little pathetic, really. Sweet, mostly. But a little pathetic.”

“Seriously?”

“Have I ever lied to you?”

Your eyeline drifted between Penny and Jake. 

“You’re sure?”

“Sweetie,” Penny smiled. “The first day you walked into this place, that boy was falling all over himself trying to talk to you. Then, when he found out you had a boyfriend…I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man so jealous. It was all he could talk about for months. Any time he didn’t see you, he always asked about you. Natasha banned the topic of you for a couple months, unless you were in the bar. And the second Amelia told him what happened– Y/n. You’ve never seen a man move so quickly.”

As shock settled into your bones, you sat down. 

“You’re kidding.”

“I am not! Honey, that boy has been in love with you from day one.”

“But we’re friends!”

Penny gave you a gentle smile, and held your hand. “A lot of people will stay in situations where, even if they’re desperate for the whole thing, the small pieces are better than nothing at all.”

You were completely in shock. “But he…he helped me with dates.”

“He might be a fighter pilot, but even they get scared once in a while.” Penny patted your hand. “He’s a good man, Y/n. All of his actions haven’t been just because he likes you. They’re a part of his reasoning, but…he’s a good man. Who has been in love with you for so long, he’s willing to help you find your ‘forever person’, even if that person isn’t him.”

It was a lot of information to take in at once. You’d only processed a third of it by the time Natasha had come running inside to drag you out to help her. 

Between herself, Bob, Payback and you – you defeated Jake’s team by the skin of your teeth. 

“No hard feelings?” You asked, standing over Jake as he lay down in the sand. 

“I think I’m dead.”

You giggled, holding your hand out. “Come on, Hangman. I’ll get you a drink.”

With a groan, he lifted his arm and clapped his hand into yours. As he stood, he threw an arm over your shoulder, whilst you kept hold of his hand and started to walk towards the bar. 

“That is the last time I ever trust Bob.”

You laughed. “That’s just your bruised ego talking.”

“Oof- harsh.”

“I think you’ll survive,” you smiled. 

You managed to act normal, for the most part. But what Penny had told you continued to play on your mind. 

Jake liked you? He had feelings — feelings stronger than friendship — for you? Since the beginning? 

No. That can’t be—You gave an internal, mental gasp. Then the dread quickly started pouring in. Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. Oh…fuck!

You felt horrible. 

You’d known Jake Seresin for, what? Four? Almost five? Years. And in that time you’d done nothing but completely misjudge him.

Well— to be fair. From the stories Jake had told you over the last year about his childhood, his teen years, his time off-base from the Navy…your judgement was pretty spot on. 

But that didn’t change the fact that you’d held it against him. Jesus, no wonder he hated your guts.

Yet, that was the thing. According to Penny's accounts of things, he…didn’t. Quite the opposite, in fact. 

But— 

You grumbled, tossing over in your bed and staring at your moonlit ceiling. You’d been going over Penny’s testimony in your head for literal hours. 

You had a million and one questions you wanted to ask. But, despite mentally going to each of the Dagger Squad for their opinions (all of whom gave a similar result as Penny). There was only one person who could answer all your questions and give you the right answers. 

You groaned again, slapping your hand onto your face. 

“Jake?” 

Poking your head through the door of The Hard Deck, you looked around hoping to find him. But, after no reply came, you stepped further inside, lifting the sunglasses from your head and folding them in your hand. 

“Jake?” 

He was nowhere to be seen. You had been stressfully asleep when your phone had loudly woken you up, a little before seven in the morning. 

“Jake?!”

“Hey.”

A surprised sound came from your mouth as you turned, finally seeing him. 

“Hi. What’s going on?”

Walking closer to you, he laid down the box of supplies in his arms onto the table. “Rooster called me – it’s kinda an all hands on deck situation.”

You nodded. “Okay. What happened?”

Jake’s face was washed in frustration and sadness. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

Walking you into the backstore, you saw it. The back supply room at the back of the kitchen was covered in water. There was a pool of water at your feet, just under an inch deep. The damp was firmly making itself at home in the walls. A lot of the cardboard boxes were slowly melting, along with the paper straws and napkins. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Pete’s gone with Penny to wake up her plumber. He wasn’t answering his phone. Rooster got called in for a meeting, so he called me. And then I called you.”

You nodded, “Okay. Okay. Yeah, we can…try and salvage this.”

“Sorry to wake you,” Jake apologised, but you shook your head. 

“No, it’s good you called me. Penny got a mop and bucket round here?”

Jake nodded, pointing to the bar. “Back there. I’ve been trying to get most of the stuff out for now. I shut the water off, but I swear this thing is still rising.”

For the next two hours, you and Jake worked to save, salvage and soak up everything in the supply room. Meanwhile, Penny stood over the shoulder of her plumber who had sworn to her that his work wasn’t the problem, only to find out it was. 

There had been a small leak for months and then, in the middle of the night, it decided to push past the dam. 

Over the following week, whilst Penny was getting the backstore fixed, you were trying to find the courage to ask Jake the truth. But, the longer you tried, the more your anxiety grew. So, you took a step back. 

You’d watch his actions. You’d try and listen to his words more. Maybe something would give the truth – his truth – away to you so you didn’t feel like an idiot when you would ask him and find the answer to be he just saw you as a friend. 

That turmoil carried on for a month. 

For every slightly friendship fueled gesture, there was a glaring romantic gesture staring you right in the face. In a crowd, he’d hold your hand. At the bar, he knew your drink order. He knew your work schedule well enough to know when to call you, or when to text you. 

But during those moments: his eyes were on you during the conversation, his hand lingered on your hip and waist when he stood beside you, if you were intentionally separated in a crowd and you looked for him…he was already looking at you. 

The bar had practically been on the floor before you got to know Jake. You also didn’t want to warp that into something that was just made up in your mind because other people were convinced, too. 

“Earth to Y/n!”

Nearly jumping out of your skin, you turned your head and looked at Jake. He was standing in your backyard. 

“Jake?”

He smiled at you. “You really need to get security cameras or something. I could have been an axe murderer.”

“I’ve got cameras,” you told him. “And you could never be an axe murderer. They’re the silent type.”

“And I’m not?”

“You're chatty.”

Jake chuckled, walking up the steps of your back porch. “Yeah, my mom always got that on my report card.”

You chuckled. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

Jake shrugged, taking his usual seat in the deck chair beside yours. “What can I say? If I wasn’t in the Navy, I’d be a reporter. Or a talk-show host.”

You chuckled, again. “I can see that for you.”

“Thank you. Now, you wanna tell me why you didn’t hear that massive lock on your side-gate?”

You shook your head, avoiding his eye contact. “It’s nothing.”

“Can’t be nothing. I was standing there for, like, half an hour!”

“It was not half an hour,” you said, rolling your eyes at Jake’s dramatic tone.

“Might as well have been. Talk to me, what’s going on?”

“Nothing-”

“It’s not nothing-”

“Jake-”

“It’s not nothing,” he said. “Seriously. What’s going on-”

“Do you like me?” 

You blurted out your question before you could stop and think about…literally anything else. 

Jake’s facial expression faltered. “W-what?”

Despite the pang in your chest as you saw his face shift, you decided to become a masochist. 

“Do you like me?” You asked him, again. “Because…someone told me something and with how I’ve been feeling recently…I’ve been trying to figure it out, Jake. And…I can’t. I can’t even trust my own judgment of it because, if it’s what I hope it is but not what I think it is– my brain is trying to sabotage it. Whilst trying to keep my feet on the ground.”

Jake remained still, apart from leaning in just a little. “And what do you hope it is?”

You felt your heart begin to pound in your chest, as well as your cheeks heat. “I don’t want to say.”

“What do you hope– why?”

“Because I don’t want to be right. And I don’t want to hope for the wrong thing.”

Throughout your head, you were reminding yourself that Jake just saw you as a friend. That you both would only ever be friends. 

But your heart was hoping for more. 

“What?”

His confusion just solidified your reality. So, taking a panicked breath and standing, you turned to him. 

“You know what, just– just forget it. This was stupid. I-I’m sorry.”

“Y/n-”

“You should probably go. I-I’ll see you when I see you. I’m sorry for saying…just literally everything.”

“Y/n, wait-” Jake stood as he watched you try and find your bearing before making a beeline for your screen door. 

“Goodbye, Jake.”

Just before you could reach out to tear open your screen door and walk into your home, where you fully planned to bury yourself under the covers of your bed and wait for the next apocalypse, Jake pulled you back. 

A grasp of your hand, a tug of your arm and you were spinning quickly into his arms where he kissed you. 

His hand held your head steady, and despite the shock, you closed your eyes. After a moment, you kissed him back. The second you did, his other hand finally settled against your skin. With his fingers first skimming your bare thigh, slipping under the short dressing gown and then firmly anchoring you to him, he pulled your entire body flush against his. 

“I like you,” Jake confirmed, breathless. “I more than like you.”

“You do?”

Jake nodded. “Yes.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“My brain needed a second to catch up.”

“I meant…before. Why didn’t you tell me anything…before?”

Jake swallowed. “The first couple years, you seemed happy with someone else. When we finally became friends…you seemed to finally be finding you, again. I love you, but I wasn’t about to jeopardise that for you.”

“What about the dates you helped me with?”

“I didn’t know. I didn’t know if I would be someone you’d…” Jake took a breath, loosening his grip on you. “If I wasn’t, I wanted to make sure you found someone who saw you. You deserve the world, Y/n. You deserve someone who sees that, too.”

“Jake…” 

Every emotion within you felt like it had been dialed to eleven. Tears were brimming in your eyes, but you didn’t know if they were from being overwhelmed with relief, worry, fear, love or frustration. 

And Jake caught them in an instant. 

Anchoring his hands by your neck and shoulders, he held onto you. And you held onto him, your fist gently gripping at his t-shirt. 

“I’ve…I am in love with you, Y/n, And I have been for a long time. But, first and foremost, you are my friend. I want the best for you and I’ve had a long time to deal with the fact I might not be that person–”

“Jake, please. Please.” You were definitely crying. “You have to know that you are. You are that person for me. I know you. I wish to God I’d known you sooner. But I know you. And I know myself.”

Reaching up, you leaned in to kiss him and he met you instantly. Through the tears of overwhelming emotion, Jake’s kiss was untamed and constant, with a wisp of desperation. Whilst you flushed yourself against him, he was careful in walking you backwards to lean against the porch post. 

His heavy boots clunked against the wood, but he made sure to avoid your bare feet. 

Bracing one hand against the post beside your head, he lifted you with his arm and sat you on the beam of the porch. 

“I love you.” 

Gently, he wiped away the drying tears from your cheek. 

“I love you.”

That following morning, you had woken up in Harry’s arms. You should have felt relieved, but instead, you felt a weight on your chest. You had sex with him last night—drunken, but good fucking sex. You slowly moved away from him, careful not to wake him, but he was already up. 

“Leaving me already?” Harry asked, rubbing his eyes. 

You sighed and sat up from bed. “Last night was—”

“A mistake?” He finished for you. “Is that what you’d call it?” 

“Harry,” you whispered. 

“It wasn’t a mistake for me,” he continued, slowly sitting up from bed now too. “For once since this fucking trip, I’m seeing everything so clearly now.” 

You shook your head. You still had your back facing him. You didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t think you were ready for it either. 

“You hurt me,” you said over your shoulder. “And I didn’t think you would ever be someone who would.” 

Then, you stood from the bed and walked to the bathroom, shutting the door quietly behind you. 

Harry sighed. When he heard the water run, he stood from the bed too and left the room, walking down the hallway and into the kitchen. 

One more day left and everything would change forever. 

You emerged from the bathroom half an hour later. You were dressed casually—a pair of black spandex shorts and a light grey tank top—for a morning walk and massage scheduled with Harry’s mother. 

When you left the bedroom, you were expecting to see Harry seated in the living area or in the kitchen. You didn’t expect to see him shirtless and in his board shorts jumping into the water. You bit your lower lip and watched him from the living area, the sun cascading down into his tanned skin. 

You shook your head and looked down at your phone. It was a message from his mother, telling you that she’d be seeing you soon. You glanced back outside only to see him climbing out of the water and onto the deck, water trickling down his body. 

“Are you leaving?” Harry asked, a towel in hand as he used it to dry himself. 

“Oh, um, I’m meeting your mom this morning.” 

He nodded. “When you get back… can we talk?” 

You shook your head. “I don’t think there’s anything to talk about.”

“Baby,” he sighed. Then, he said your name. “Please.” 

“You’re not changing my mind,” you said quietly. 

“I know,” he replied. “I just—I don’t want us to leave things like this.” 

You sighed. 

Harry’s eyes softened. 

Then, he pleaded once more. “Please.” 

“Fine,” you said. “Tomorrow’s the big party before we leave, so we should—we should at least pretend that we’re okay.” 

Harry nodded. He let out a relieved breath. “Okay, great. I’ll—I’ll uh, see you later then.” He took a step forward out of instinct, almost leaning down to kiss your cheek but he stopped himself. 

Especially because you turned on your heel to begin walking away from him anyway. 

Harry watched you for a moment, hoping that you’d spare him a glance before you reached the front door. 

But you didn’t. 

You kept on walking like last night didn’t happen. Like the things you both said didn’t matter. 

Peter walked through the threshold of Harry’s villa and glanced at the other man with a clenched jaw. A part of him felt guilty about finding out that Harry’s relationship with you was fake; Harry felt the need to lie to him and to his parents just so they would stop asking him about Lucy and other prospects. 

“Peter,” Harry said, shutting the door. 

Peter looked around. He didn’t see you. 

“She’s with mom,” Harry added. “She’s not here.” 

Peter sighed in relief. Harry had made him promise yesterday not to tell anyone he knew, especially you. 

“How are you doing?” Peter asked. 

“Terrible,” he answered honestly. “But we leave the day after tomorrow, so just gotta get through that, right?” 

Harry walked to the living area and sat on the sofa. He stared out the dock, having kept the large sliding door open to let the natural light and warmth into the villa. “Did you tell Charlotte?” 

Peter followed him and sat on the sofa next to his brother. “You know I didn’t.” 

“Thanks,” he sighed. 

“I can’t believe you—you had to lie.” 

Harry glanced over at him. “You all wouldn’t let me breathe,” he admitted. “If mom or dad wasn’t trying to set me up, there you were. Trying to hook me up with Charlotte’s friends. I just—I just wanted it all to stop.” 

“I’m sorry,” Peter whispered. “We just want you happy. Lucy—she—”

“I know,” Harry interrupted. “It’s done and over with.” 

“Did you even love her?” Peter asked. 

Harry shrugged. “Does everything have to be about love? We were both compatible. I would’ve added value to her life.” 

Peter shook his head. “Love is everything, Harry.” 

“Right.” 

“And Adore? You really thought you’d find someone?” 

“You did.” 

“I got lucky,” Peter said. 

Harry sighed. “I had a lot of matches.” 

“Doesn’t mean they’re all going to work out.” 

He looked away. Harry’s mind drifted to you. Always to you. “Yeah, sure.” 

“What is the plan after this? Once we’re back in New York?” 

Harry’s jaw clenched. “She and I go our separate ways,” he answered. 

“Really?” 

He shrugged. “It’s what she wants.” 

“But what do you want?” 

“It doesn’t matter.” 

Peter reached out and rested a hand on Harry’s forearm. “It matters, Harry. What you want matters too.” 

He looked down at his brother’s hand and sighed shakily. Harry had been keeping everything bottled in—away from his family, away from you. Saying it out loud would make it real and he wasn’t sure if he could handle that, especially not if the end result would be you leaving him for good. 

“It doesn’t,” Harry repeated. “I tried, okay? I—I tried. She doesn’t want anything to do with me.” 

Peter sighed. “If this relationship was all a lie, then… then why does it seem so real?” 

“We had a physical relationship before all of this,” he admitted. 

“What?” 

“Sometimes, she’d show up at my place. Oftentimes, I’d show up at hers.” 

“And you both just…” 

“Yeah,” Harry finished for him. “It was only ever sex. Before this trip, that was all it ever was. She’d use me. I’d use her. We knew what the expectations were for each other. I didn’t want her. She didn’t want me.” 

Peter furrowed a brow. “How long was that going on for?” 

“Long enough,” he answered. 

“Even during Lucy?” 

Harry shook his head. “We wouldn’t—we wouldn’t see each other if either of us were in a relationship or exclusively seeing someone else. It really was just only sex.” 

“So, what was different about this trip?” 

“I—I started seeing her differently,” he confessed. “I don’t know, Peter. The plan was to always go back to before once the trip was over.“ 

“But?” 

“But now, she doesn’t want anything to do with me after this,” he sighed, bringing a hand to his face. Harry shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He hadn’t slept, not really, especially since he was holding you all night. 

“Do you really believe that?” 

“You didn’t see her face.” 

“You love her,” Peter whispered. “Don’t you?” 

Harry opened his eyes and looked over at Peter. His deep brown eyes glistened with tears threatening to spill over. He hadn’t known what love was… not until this trip. 

Not until you. 

“Yeah,” he muttered. “I do… and I don’t know how to fix it.” 

“Yes, you do,” Peter said. “You know exactly what you need to do to fix it.” 

“But I don’t think it’d be enough.” Harry confessed. “Her finding out that I had an Adore membership… I didn’t think she’d react that way.” 

Peter let a small smile line his lips. He looked over at him and leaned over to squeeze his older brother’s shoulder. “That’s because she loves you too, Harry.” 

He looked over at him. Eyes slightly widened and lips parted in surprise. “What?” 

“Think about it. If she didn’t care about you, or love you too, do you think she would have reacted that way?” 

“I don’t—I don’t know.” 

“Come on,” Peter chuckled. “You had that membership for a reason… and you didn’t tell her for a reason.” 

“I didn’t think she’d care.” 

“And now that you know she does…” 

“Oh,” Harry said. He looked out onto the deck once more. He should’ve felt relief, should’ve felt the weight on his shoulders lift. But instead, it did the complete opposite. 

Because if you did love him, why were you so willing to throw it all away? 

Why would you still want to push him away?

“Just… talk to her.” 

“And what if she still doesn’t want this? Doesn’t want me?” Harry asked quietly. 

“Then, you move forward. You move on.” 

“And if I can’t?”

Peter sighed. “Things will work out,” he said softly. 

Harry scoffed and shook his head. “Things don’t usually work out for me.” 

“You’d be surprised,” Peter replied. “Just be honest with her. Be honest with how you feel.” 

Harry nodded once. 

“I’m serious.” 

“Right.” 

“What do you have to lose, Harry? You’re losing her anyway.” 

He looked at the younger man with narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw. “I’ll… I’ll try.” 

You were lying on your abdomen on the massage table, eyes shut and next to Harry’s mother. The masseuse had come in and adjusted your towel before applying some oil onto your back. You tried to relax, tried to just revel in the moment, but you couldn’t. 

All you could think about was Harry. 

Last night. 

The sex. 

The falling asleep in his arms. 

The fact that he came inside of you. 

This trip wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was meant to be easy—fake the relationship and then head back to New York once it was done and over with. 

You both established rules. 

Agreed that you both would follow them. 

You weren’t only angry at him, but you were also frustrated with yourself. Before this, it never crossed your mind that Harry could potentially be someone you’d want to be with. 

It wasn’t like he ever showed interest either. The relationship you had with him was purely sex, simply out of convenience. 

But this trip changed everything. You started to wonder if maybe it was there all along. It had to be, right? The physical attraction could only go so far, but the lingering glances and the words you said to each other these last few days had to have come from somewhere. 

You both stopped pretending this was something other than it was. 

Because you slipped into your role so easily. 

And Harry welcomed you like it was second nature to him. 

“You’re tense,” the masseuse said softly, pulling you out of your thoughts. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled. “I just—” You sighed and slowly lifted your head off the table to look over your shoulder at him. “Can I just have a few minutes?” 

“Of course,” he nodded with a smile. “I’ll be right outside.” 

You sat up and wrapped the towel around yourself, climbing off the table to pull on a robe. His mother nodded to her own masseuse who also left the room before the older woman did the same. She sat up from the table and pulled on her own robe before walking over to you. 

“You okay?” She asked softly. 

You nodded and turned to look over at her, forcing a small smile. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

She sighed. “What is going on with you and Harry?”

“Nothing,” you said softly. “I’m just thinking about how things will change after this trip. It was nice… to get away from real life for a bit,” you lied.

His mother arched a brow before she poured two glasses of wine and handed one over to you. “You know, you’re a terrible liar,” she laughed quietly. 

You shook your head and looked down at your glass of wine, taking a careful sip before you looked back out the window to the amazing view of the island. “What if I do love him?” You asked quietly. 

His mother smiled. “I think that’d be a good thing, no?”

You looked at her and your lower lip trembled as you tightened your grip around the wine glass. You were standing in front of a woman that meant so much to Harry, lying to her face, and it all felt so… wrong. Before this trip, they were just your employers. Now, it felt like they were welcoming you to their family. 

“Mrs. Castillo—”

She clicked her tongue. “That’s too formal, honey. I know you have been working for us for years, but I’d like to think that our relationship has changed since then.” 

You felt your breath catch in your throat. 

Tears began to pool at your eyes.

His mother immediately noticed. She set down her wine glass and pulled you into a hug, rubbing your back gently. “I think you need to listen to your heart,” she whispered. “You’re letting your mind do all the thinking. What does your heart tell you?” 

You bit your lower lip to prevent it from trembling even further. You knew what your heart wanted. You knew who your heart wanted, but your mind told you otherwise. Harry didn’t want you. If he did, he’d have done something about it sooner than this trip.

Right? 

“I don’t know,” you mumbled.

She let out a quiet laugh and pulled back to look at you. With her gentle hands, she cupped your cheeks and slowly wiped your tears away. “Yes, you do.” 

“Love—it’s scary, isn’t it?”

She nodded. “It is, but when you find it—when you truly find it—it’s the best thing in the world.”

“I don’t know if I’m ready,” you answered honestly. “I don’t know if Harry—if he’s someone that’s meant for me.” 

She smiled. Wiped away the last tear that trickled down your cheek. “And if he isn’t, that’s okay… but I think there’s something else that’s holding you back, honey. Why do you think you’re not ready?” 

“Because if I was, I wouldn’t be this afraid of it. Of… love.” 

“I think that’s the point,” she replied. “Love isn’t meant to be easy—finding it especially isn’t—but when you find the right person, everything else just falls into place.” 

“Were you afraid? Of loving your husband?” 

She nodded instantly. “Of course,” she answered. “But not taking that risk was something I was even more scared of… because what if I hadn’t allowed myself to love him? What if I didn’t tell him how I felt? What if I just ran away? We wouldn’t be here,” she continued. “Love is all about taking risks, honey… and yes, I’m biased because Harry’s my son, but he has never looked at anyone else the way he looks at you.”

You inhaled sharply.

“And that look—it didn’t only start from this trip.”

“What?” You asked.

“Whenever you worked one of our events, you’d always catch his eye.” 

You bit your lower lip. You knew he would look at you during those events, but you always assumed it was because of his anticipation and impatience to get you alone—to take you to bed like you both had done so many times. You didn’t think that anyone else noticed and you certainly didn’t think that it meant anything more than just the physical relationship you both started. 

“I mean, you are a beautiful young woman, of course, but it was different. He never looked at any other woman the way he looks at you. Not even Lucy,” she said. “And you don’t have to tell me what you want, or explain to me how you’re feeling, but you do need to be honest with yourself.”

“What if I can’t?” You asked. “What if I can’t be honest with myself?”

“Then be honest with Harry.” 

You nodded. 

“Do you mind—do you mind if I end this massage early and just take a walk to clear my head?” 

His mother smiled. “Of course. I’ll see you at dinner tonight though, okay? It’ll be at our villa, just the immediate family before the big party tomorrow.” 

“Yes, we’ll be there,” you said, pulling her back into a tight hug. “Thank you,” you whispered. “For listening.” 

“Always, sweetheart.”

After your walk, you stepped foot into the villa and found Harry standing in the kitchen area with a cup of coffee. His hair was damp and he was dressed casually, but when he saw you, his eyes widened and he set the cup down onto the counter.

“Hi,” he said quietly.

“Hey,” you answered. 

“You’re back early.” 

“I ended my massage early and just went for a walk instead.” 

“Oh,” Harry nodded, rounding the kitchen counter to get a bit closer to you. “How’s my mom?”

“She’s good,” you answered once more, biting your lower lip. Everything about this interaction felt forced—awkward. “I think she’s excited for the party tomorrow.”

Harry chuckled. “I’d imagine so,” he replied. 

“But we do have dinner tonight at their villa.”

He nodded. “Okay.” 

“Okay,” you repeated.

You were about to turn on your heel before Harry reached out for you. His hand slowly touched your wrist and you turned around to look up at him.

“Can we talk?” 

You nodded. “I think that was the plan, right?” 

“Right.”

You pulled your hand gently from his and walked towards the living area, sitting on the couch and pulling your legs onto it. 

Harry wasn’t sure if you wanted him next to you, so he opted for the loveseat adjacent to where you were sitting. It was like he was tiptoeing around you, not wanting to scare you away. So, he took a deep breath and said, “Peter knows.”

“What?”

“I told him about… about us. About our deal. About what we planned.”

You sighed. “What did he say?” 

He shrugged. “He just couldn’t believe I had to lie.” 

“Yeah, well, he’s also part of the reason why you did, so…”

“I know. I told him that. Said that him and our parents just—they wouldn’t let me breathe. It was like I was suffocating.”

You nodded and looked away from him. 

Slowly, Harry leaned forward. “Baby…”

You bit your lower lip, keeping your eyes away from him as you felt tears slowly trickle at the corner of your eyes. You brought a hand up to your cheek and wiped them away slowly. “Harry, I don’t—I don’t think I’m capable of this. You were right. I’ve never been in love before. All those relationships—they were never the real thing.” 

Harry cleared his throat. He opened his mouth to say something, but you continued. 

“And again, you were fucking right. I broke a rule. The one important fucking rule,” you said, finally looking over at him with tears in your eyes. “This stopped being fake that minute we shared that dance. You know it. I know it.” 

“Yes, and I think we should—”

You shook your head. “But that’s the thing, isn’t it?” You interrupted quietly. “None of this would’ve happened if you didn’t bring me on this trip. We never—we never wanted each other like that. We understood what we were to each other.”

“Things change,” Harry said. 

“You never wanted me that way,” you whispered. “And that’s okay because I—I didn’t think I ever wanted you that way either.” 

Harry felt his own tears now. “I can’t—I can’t go back to New York like this.” 

“You’re gonna have to… because I will have to as well,” you said, voice shaky now. “We both just got caught up in this trip, that’s all. Once we’re back in New York, I’m giving my resignation—”

“Baby, no,” he said, standing from the loveseat to sit on the coffee table in front of you. Harry reached for your hands, but you pulled them away slowly. 

“Be honest with yourself,” you whispered. “You had Adore’s services for a reason, Harry. I will never be someone you want and you know what, that’s okay. I—I’m happy for the time we shared with each other.” 

He shook his head, tears trickling down his cheeks now. “Stop—”

“We’re going to finish out this trip like we planned—pretending that we’re in this relationship, but once this trip is done, we go back to New York and go our separate ways.”

“No.”

You reached up to cup his cheek now, wiping away the fallen tears slowly. “You’ll find someone that’s a better match for you. Someone honest, someone real… and I’m sorry. For the things I said before.”

“I canceled Adore,” he blurted out. 

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have.”

Harry shook his head. “How—how can you look at me and pretend that I’m someone you’ve never met? After all this, how—”

“Because I have to,” you interjected. “Because if this was real, it would’ve happened a long time ago.” 

“You can’t keep telling me what’s real and what isn’t,” Harry mumbled. “What I feel for you—it’s fucking real… and I’m sorry it’s taken me this long, but it is. You’re—”

“Let’s just get through tonight and tomorrow,” you whispered quietly, slowly standing from the couch. 

“Baby,” Harry pleaded. 

“We have one more day, Harry,” you said, wiping your tears away and straightening up. “Let’s make it a good one, okay?” You turned on your heel and walked down the hallway, leaving him in the living area.

Harry stared at the couch, tears strolling down his cheeks now. He clenched his jaw and when he heard the bedroom door shut, he finally stood up and walked towards the kitchen area again. He didn’t know how to fix it, didn’t know how to change your mind. 

If this was what you wanted—if this was going to make you happy—then he’d listen. 

Even if it was breaking his fucking heart.

Later that night, both you and Harry walked into his parents’ villa. Even now, it felt awkward. He wouldn’t touch you and you wouldn’t look at him. The walk to the villa was quiet too—almost like you both were just counting the minutes before the trip ended. 

“Harry!” His mother smiled and looked between the both of you. She noticed it instantly. You leaned up to kiss his cheek, but he pulled away before your lips could touch him. You sighed and excused yourself, leaving Harry alone with his mother. 

“You okay?” She asked.

“Fine,” he answered. “Drinks?” 

His mother sighed and pointed to the kitchen. “Pace yourself.”

“I’m fine, ma,” he said, kissing her cheek quickly before he made his way to the kitchen. Harry saw you with Charlotte, sitting on the couch and laughing at what she was saying. Harry tightened his jaw. 

How could you act like nothing was wrong? 

How could you act normal when his heart was breaking? 

Peter stepped up to him and clasped a hand on his shoulder. “So… how’d the talk go?”

“Fucking horrible,” he answered, downing a shot of tequila before pouring himself another one. “I shouldn’t have listened to you.” 

Peter furrowed a brow. “What?”

“You and your wife shouldn’t have fucking meddled either,” he muttered. “From now on, leave me alone. My life is my own.”

“Harry, I—”

“Do I make myself clear?” He interrupted, staring at his brother with narrowed eyes.

“Y—Yeah,” Peter replied. “Got it.” 

“Good.” Harry downed another shot and instead of pouring himself another shot, he just grabbed the entire bottle of tequila and walked outside of the villa to the deck, sitting down on the edge as he stared down at the water. 

His mother noticed the interaction between both her sons, furrowing a brow at Harry before she glanced over at you. You looked at him and excused yourself from your conversation with Charlotte, stepping out onto the deck where he was. 

“You wanna share?” You asked, moving to sit down next to him.

Harry shook his head. “No.”

“We still have a role to play,” you whispered. 

“Don’t fucking care anymore,” he said. When he turned to look at you, his eyes were red, tears brimming his eyes. “If they find out that it’s fake, who fucking cares?” 

You cleared your throat. You reached out and grabbed the bottle of tequila before he shook his head, using  his free hand to stop you and accidentally shoving you backwards. 

You fell onto your back, eyes wide as you looked at him. 

Then, it suddenly registered what he just did. Harry’s eyes softened instantly.

“Baby, I’m so sorry—”

“You act like you’re the only one hurting,” you whispered, voice trembling and the tears that you held back now falling down your cheeks. “But you hurt me too.” 

You stood from the deck and Harry did too.

He took a step closer.

You took one step back.

“Harry?” His mother said. 

“I didn’t mean to push you,” Harry whispered, ignoring his mother. 

“I know you didn’t… It’s okay,” you said. “But I think—I think I should just head back,” you turned to look at his mother and gave her an apologetic smile. “And I think maybe you should just spend the night here.” 

Harry tried to reach out for you again, but you were already walking away. He watched you whisper something to his mother, who nodded in understanding, before he watched you walk away. It wasn’t until you were out of his parents’ villa that he finally broke down. 

His mother immediately caught him, wrapping her arms around him as he cried into her shoulder. “I—I ruined everything…” 

She sighed and began rubbing his back gently, trying to get him to calm down as she sat back down on the deck with him next to her. “Why don’t you tell me what’s really going on, Harry?” 

“I love her, ma,” he mumbled, pulling back and away from her. “I love her so fucking much and it hurts.” 

“If you love her, then why are you both treating each other like you don’t?” 

“Because—” Harry looked at her and bit his lower lip. “Everything about this—it was all fake.”

Once you were finally alone and back at the villa, you collapsed onto the bed and cried into the pillow. You screamed into it, gripping the edges of it tightly. You didn’t think that Harry would have this big of a reaction—you honestly thought he’d agree, that going back to New York and parting ways would be something he’d agree with. 

But you knew that it wouldn’t work outside of this environment. If you and Harry did give it a real try back in New York, you knew that there was a big possibility it would only end in heartbreak. 

So, you figured why not end it now? And it hurt, it fucking hurt, because you did love him. But the fact that it took this trip for you both to see what you both felt for each other made you wonder how real it was. 

There had to have been a reason why both you and Harry never wanted each other in that way prior to this trip. Right? 

Sitting up, tears streaking down your cheeks, you reached for your camera. When you turned it on and navigated to the gallery, you felt your chest tighten at the pictures you had taken so far on this trip. You hovered over the delete button on the ones that you took of Harry, but you couldn’t bring yourself up to actually delete them. 

You thought about your conversation with Harry earlier—how he looked at you so completely wrecked and broken. 

Then, you thought about what his mother told you earlier that morning. 

Love is all about taking risks. 

When you find the right person, everything else just falls into place. 

He never looked at any other woman the way he looks at you. 

Why did everyone else notice this but you and Harry? 

Your thumb clicked a video recording on your camera that you didn’t remember taking. Furrowing a brow, you pressed play and heard Harry’s voice come through the camera. 

It was the day before everything changed. 

The day that you both shared that intimate dance on the beach.

The day that everything shifted. 

“You said to never touch your camera, but I couldn’t help myself, baby,” he laughed into the camera, panning it to face you as you swam in the water outside the deck of your villa. “But look how beautiful you are.”

“Harry, what are you doing?!” You exclaimed, swimming to the surface and rubbing your eyes. The camera zoomed in on you and Harry chuckled once more.

“Nothing!” 

“Liar!” You giggled, disappearing under the water again. 

Harry sighed contentedly. “I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, baby,” he whispered into the camera. “I better turn this off before you catch me using this… but if you’re seeing this later, I’m sorry in advanced. I just couldn’t help myself.”

You felt tears sting your eyes as you continued to watch the video. 

“I just want to make so many more memories with you,” Harry continued. 

“Harry! Join me in the water!” 

“Okay, that’s my cue.” He set the camera down. 

You bit your lower lip when you saw his face finally come into view. 

He took a deep breath, smiled softly, and then quietly said, “I think I always loved you, baby. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

“Harry!” 

“Okay, coming! Jeez, you’re so impatient,” he laughed, reaching up to turn the recording off. 

Then, the video ended. 

You gasped.

You could feel your heart beating out of your chest.

Harry recorded that before everything happened. Before you finding out about Adore. Before the awful things you said to him. 

He was sure about you. 

This trip had opened his eyes to the person that had always been there. 

He was looking for love in other places, when it was in front of him all along. 

It was you.

It had always been you.

It's then you become all too aware of your surroundings; you're in Bob's house, on his bed, whose sheets you have definitely soaked.

"Fuck, your sheets, I'm so sorry," you mumble as you try to get up. There's no way he would want to shower after-

"Hey! It's fine," his voice is soft, gentle, "I usually do laundry tomorrow, so they were going to get washed anyways."

Of course he has a set date for laundry.

When your friend first told you about Bob, you were unsure. You already had such shit luck on dating apps, there's no way a blind date could be better. Then your friend's girlfriend Nat vouched for him. She was a pretty good judge of character and if she was willing to recommend her copilot, he must be at least kinda decent.

It was worse. Bob Floyd was perfect.

He was an actual gentlemen. Not one of those guys that says he is and only holds the door on the first date. Bob listened, he genuinely wanted to get to know you.

At first you thought he didn't like you because he ended the date on an awkward side hug.

According to Nat that's just how he is at first.

But then Bob texted you back. And kept texting. Kept calling. Kept arriving on time with flowers. Kept slowly becoming more comfortable with showing physical affection.

Despite how wonderful he was, you two still did that awkward 'hey not that I'm wondering but what are we?' dance. You wanted to bring it up so bad and knew, in the back of your mind, that you could bring it up to Bob. That he would actually talk about it because he's a grown adult. But you had been burned before and spending time with him was just lovely, even if you were undefined.

Then tonight he brought you to the Hard Deck (you already knew Nat and pretty much the rest of the squad given her and Bob's combined stories). Introducing you to friends is a sign that you didn't plan to ghost someone, right?

He had left to grab you some more water (he insisted after seeing you take a tequila shot with Nat and Mickey). Not even a full minute had passed when some blonde Ken doll looking man walked up to you. Funny thing, pre-Bob, he would have been your exact type. But now you were reaping the benefits of having expectations. You wanted Bob.

Who jumped right to your defense. Who replied with "boyfriend" (same time as you) when asked who he was. Who after confirming that yes, you did mean that, took you back to his place and ate you out like it was his last meal.

Who now was leading you into his shower, pressing sweet and soft kisses to your bare shoulder. Who did not get an equal chance to come and wasn't bringing it up.

Instead he offered you his bottle of shampoo (actual shampoo, not the '12 in 1' stuff) and stepped aside to let you stand under his shower head.

He was so sweet and genuine, it drove you crazy. Bob probably wouldn't mention his lack of an orgasm.

Which is why you felt like the only logical thing to do was to get on your knees in the shower. For once, you actually wanted to return the favor. He made you see stars and was the sweetest man you had ever met, so why not blow him?

"Hey you okay- oh," his eyes widened when your tongue darted out to lick up his shaft. You never really thought a cock could be pretty, until you met Bob.

"You don't....have to um, you know-shoot," his head tilts back when your lips close around the tip of his cock. His breathing is uneven. Looking up, you can see his eyes shut in concentration, as though he's using all his willpower to not come.

“Bradley,” you sighed leaning back, letting his broad, warm body support you, “I can’t show up to work all wrinkled.”

You could feel the outline of him through his heathered gray sweatpants, and it worked for you.

Everything about him worked for you.

“Can’t have that, now can we?” he murmured in your ear. His hands sliding around to the exposed zipper in the back, fingers playing with the pull tab there, “Let’s take it off then.”

And you were tempted. So, so tempted as he teased his mustache along your neck.

“I’m going to be late,” you said, spinning to wrap your arms around his neck. The taste of coffee on his tongue was better than anything out of a mug.

“C’mon, kid,” he coaxed against your mouth, his voice pure seduction, “Let me give you a proper send off.”

His hands had found the top button of your blue and white striped shirt, slipping it out of its buttonhole to expose a couple more inches of your skin to his eyes.

You didn’t have any meetings until later in the morning, and his mouth was your favorite kind of distraction. Especially the way he was lazily working his way along your jawline.

“You always smell so good,” he hummed into your skin. Those sly and precise hands undid another button before sliding one under your shirt. His finger tracing along the line of the scalloped line of your bra.

And then you remembered just what exactly you were wearing under that button down and pencil skirt that was driving him so crazy. If Bradley were to discover what you had on, you would have definitely been late for work.

That was a surprise for him to find later.

He tugged on the collar of your button down to get another glimpse of you and at what secrets resided beneath your top.

“Bradley!” you laughed swatting at his hands you tried to pull away. Working quickly to rebutton the ones he had managed to get undone while you had been preoccupied with his mouth.

“You can’t blame a guy for trying,” he winked at you, still running his hands along your body.

“No, of course not,” you tease, rolling your eyes in amusement, “However, I do reserve the right to blame you if I am late for work.”

“You could always just tell them you were late because you were doing your patriotic duty. Don’t they give you paid volunteer hours at that place?” he asked with a wicked smirk before letting you go with one final squeeze to your hips.

“I don’t think me volunteering for another round of patriotic sex on the kitchen island is what they meant when they gave us those paid community hours. Even if it is technically in service and support for the property of the US Navy.”

You leaned in for one more quick kiss, coping a quick feel of his ass as you darted out of his reach and towards the entryway before he could pull you back in again, “Please send my thanks to Uncle Sam.”

He chuckled, as he leaned against the counter with his legs crossed at the ankles with his mug of coffee back in his hands, “Have a good day, kid.”

You gathered your things and were almost out the door when Bradley called out to you.

“Hey! You forgot something.”

You paused to check your bag, confused about what could have possibly been missing. Once your laptop, phone, wallet, and keys had all been accounted for you turned back towards him to see what had been overlooked in your haste to get out the door.

“I love you, sweet girl.”

Oh, he was so gone for you.

You didn’t think you would ever get over how handsome Bradley was, especially when he was smiling at you with such warmth and affection.

“I love you too,” you grinned back at him, before sauntering out the door with a cheeky salute, “See you later, Lieutenant Commander.”

And then you hit every goddamn red light possible on your way into work.

You wanted to be home.

You wanted to be in your bed.

Things had gone from bad to worse in the few minutes it had taken you to walk through the main door of your building towards your office.

There hadn’t even been time to make a stop at the fancy espresso machine that was in the break room before your work nemesis, Grace, was charging at you in the hallway to rant about the derailed timelines for a project that you were both assigned to for one of the biggest clients on your company’s account roster.

It was clear as you looked over the spreadsheets she had printed out, still holding your heavy work tote on your shoulder, that there wouldn’t be any way to salvage the mess and that the deliverables wouldn't be ready in time for the client’s target deadline.

When she left in an angry huff marching towards the direction of your boss’ office, your stomach was aching from the twisted knots that had formed in your lower abdomen. The idea of the coffee you had been looking forward to was now the last thing on your mind, not that the caffeine would be good for your elevated levels of anxiety.

Both you and Grace were in the running for the same promotion, and you knew without a doubt that she was going to try and pin all the poor planning on you.

As if she wasn’t the one who’d essentially elbowed you out of the way for this portion of the project claiming that she had been further along in the planning process and that “it would be redundant and a waste time and resources for us to both work on this.”

She had dodged your attempts to collaborate, stonewalling you at every possible turn. You had been excluded from important meetings multiple times and had been asked to do duplicate work even though your own plate was already overloaded from all the slack you were picking up. You had found so many errors in what little information she had sent your way, that you were having to redo most everything as it came to you.

While you had been debating going to your boss to inform her of the ongoing issues, you had held off because even though you kept things professional at the office, it wasn’t a secret that the two of you weren’t exactly the best of friends. And you had been worried she might have brushed it off as interpersonal issues rather than Grace’s clear attempts to sabotage you.

So, you couldn’t say you were surprised when you were called into an emergency meeting with both your boss, Joanna, and the bane of your existence less than forty minutes later. And even less surprised when Grace pointed the finger at you in that condescending manner of hers that had gotten under your skin from the very first day you met her.

However, you had come prepared. You listened tolerantly as she listed off all the things that you’d allegedly done wrong before speaking up.

“To my understanding, all the things you just listed fell under the portion of the project that you claimed responsibility for,” you stated, trying to keep your voice from sounding tight and clipped.

What she didn’t realize as she tried to place the blame on you was that your receipts had receipts. And you proceeded to hand over the file folder of all the email correspondence you had saved and collected during the project to your manager.

“And am I allowed to know just what exactly that is?” Grace demanded.

“Of course, it’s simply our emails. So the content of that file won’t come as a surprise to you,” you replied as neutrally as possible.

You had highlighted all the important requests that were denied or ignored completely, the obvious errors, and the work that she had claimed credit for that was actually yours.

And the smoking gun, was a message you had received a notification about on Slack that was clearly posted to the wrong channel where Grace was all but admitting that she was purposefully giving you wrong information to work with. And while she had been quick to delete it, you had been quicker to get a screenshot of it.

You had conveniently placed that bit on the top of the pile to be the first thing your boss would see.

“I’m sorry for not coming to you sooner about this,” you said sincerely to your boss, “I had no clue things had spiraled out of control this bad until this morning. And after you review that file, I am sure you’ll see why.”

You tried to keep your fidgeting under control seated in the boucle chair as she skimmed over the first couple of pages, glancing between you and your work nemesis. The tension palpable and oppressive in the room.

Normally you loved being in Joanna’s office, it was tastefully chic with a white lacquer desk and a large Fiddle Fig tree in the corner. And your boss was always the type to indulge in a little pop culture talk, the two of you had had many a coffee break in there together, but at that moment you couldn’t wait to get back to your own office and away from Grace.

“The two of you are dismissed for now while I review this. In the meantime, I expect you both to work on finding what solutions we have at our disposal to get this back on track.”

You wanted to be home.

You wanted to be in your bed.

You wanted to be under your soft green comforter.

The migraine came on steadily after that meeting. From the stress or the lack of sufficent caffeine you couldn’t say.

Your heart had been racing since you had left Joanna's office, and not in the fun way that Bradley was usually responsible for.

God, what had you been thinking to turn down more morning sex with Bradley Bradshaw? Even if it would have ruined the surprise you had planned, at least the additional post-orgasm endorphin high might have helped you get through the day better.

Maybe you definitely should have let him have his way that morning.

You were feeling on the brink of an anxiety attack an hour later when your boss called you back for a follow-up meeting.

Popping a couple CBD tablets and wiping your damp shaky hands on your sleek navy skirt, you saved the minimal amount of work you’d been able to get done while you had been spiraling before getting up to stop by the restroom before your one-on-one.

In the quiet of the bathroom, you disrobed enough to work the pretty yet impractical one piece you were wearing down your body when you realized the stress alone wasn’t the only reason for why your stomach had been hurting all morning.

For a moment you felt nothing. And then you felt everything.

No. No. No.

The tears prickled behind your eyes, and you had to bite your lip hard to keep from crying. Your day had already gone from bad to terrible to worse, and now this.

You wouldn’t cry. You couldn’t cry.

No.

You wouldn’t let yourself cry.

You wouldn’t cry and Bradley wouldn’t get to see the surprise you had planned for him because the gusset of that more-expensive-than-it-should-have-been delicate and lovely sheer white French lace bodysuit you had secretly bought and slipped on this morning was stained a bright crimson red.

Steeling yourself against the swell of emotions that was threatening to drag you down, you perfunctorily folded up a wad of toilet paper and placed it in the center of the lining as you shimmed the formerly-stunning-but-now-ruined lingerie back up.

Just another thing that had gone wrong today. Just another problem to be dealt with later. Just one more thing that made you wish you’d never got out of bed this morning.

Tucking your shirt back in, you pushed everything out of your mind. You would not be the woman showing up to your boss’ office with streaky make up and puffy eyes.

After washing your hands and giving yourself a critical once over in the gold rimmed mirror and straightening your skirt just so, you had made your way to your over to Joanna’s corner office.

She didn’t keep you on tenterhooks for very long, letting you know that she had passed along the folder of information you had given her to HR and that Grace had been sent home for the day. While the clients were unhappy with the delays, she had managed to convince them of the merits of pushing back the project by a few weeks, giving your team the opportunity to clean up the mess.

For the time being, she would be taking over the project account until the internal investigation was completed by HR, but she anticipated being able to turn the reins back over to you alone very shortly. And then in the strictest confidentiality within the sanctity of her cozy yet aesthetic office, she had all but confirmed that the promotion you had been working so hard for was always going to be yours.

While she reassured you that she was on your side, you still couldn’t help feeling like you’d let her down. And then with a nod and an edict to not worry about anything, she also sent you home for the day too.

You wanted to be home.

You wanted to be in your bed.

You wanted to be under your soft green comforter.

You wanted to be on Bradley’s side of the bed.

The drive home felt like the longest fifty minutes of your life.

The traffic was always terrible, but today it was worse. You would never understand why Californians couldn’t figure out how to merge on the highway. It was supposed to be a zipper, not a game of chicken to see how close you could get to someone without actually hitting them.

And then seeing the man who was too old to be selling flowers on the cement divider in the middle of the road at one of the red lights you had been stuck at only added another bruise to your already battered heart.

Not even when you finally pulled up to the house you loved so much had helped to ease the pain of the day. You weren’t hit with the same rush of delight as you usually were when you arrived back to the home you shared with Bradley.

You didn’t know it was possible for such a fairytale home to exist in San Diego, but it did and it was yours.

The charming 1930’s white Tudor had a set of four diamond paneled windows in the front that were warm and welcoming. The large cement pavers up the slope of the lawn lead you to a black door that had an abundance of vintage character.

The house was situated picturesquely under a large Tipuana tree. Bradley was always complaining about the little yellow flowers when they littered the lawn, but you loved the cheerful floral confetti. Which is probably why he left them there for you waiting until they were withered and brown before blowing them into the street.

It had absolutely stolen your breath away the first time you saw it.

The two of you had been driving around in the Bronco one afternoon with Van Morrison playing on the radio just enjoying the afternoon sun after a week of rain. You had gasped when he drove by the house as the agent was attempting to put up the For Sale sign.

Other than the time at the seaside restaurant when you and Bradley had decided to go all in on each other, you had never been so struck with a feeling of such resolute surety. It was meant to be your house.

Your home with Bradley.

He must have felt it too because he’d barely gotten the Bronco in Park before he had leapt out of the car jogging up to the agent, the car still running and the keys in the ignition.

You’ll never know what he said to the woman as he helped her to get the post for the sign situated in the corner of the lot since you had been trying to actually turn the car off before getting unbuckled and out of the car yourself.

Maybe it had been his words. Maybe it had been the flight suit. Maybe it had been kismet. Whatever it was it worked, since she ended up giving you both an impromptu viewing of the home right then and there.

And 30 minutes after that you and Bradley were putting in an offer on the house, one that was accepted a couple days later.

Your movements were mechanical in the way you get out of your car and into your home. Not bothering to move your heels from where you kicked them off by the door or to pick up your work tote from where it had fallen over.

All you could focus on was moving from one task to the next, determined to not let yourself fall apart. Tossing your clothes in the laundry room as you made your way to your bedroom to close the blinds, finally giving your eyes the break from the light they had needed all day.

Bradley’s well-worn shirt was still where you had left it in the bathroom earlier from when you had changed after your perfect breakfast with him. Before your day had imploded.

Pulling it on over your head, letting Bradley’s scent wash over you, as you finally crawled into your bed with a ragged sigh.

You were home.

You were in your bed.

You were under your soft green comforter.

You were on Bradley’s side of the bed.

You wanted Bradley.

You wanted Bradley.

You wanted Bradley.

With that as your final thought on repeat like a lullaby of longing, you finally let yourself slide away.

Nothing could wipe the grin from Bradley’s face as he drove home with the California sun shining down on him.

He was still buzzing from the adrenaline of the successful hop he had completed earlier in the day.

As part of the training for the newest batch of Top Gun students, he and Mav had been tasked with demonstrating some advanced technical maneuvers before participating in a dog fight exercise. Where he had successfully gotten a lock and pulled tone on his friend and mentor for the first time in a long while.

The glimpse of white lace he had caught earlier that morning in the kitchen when he had sneaked a peek down your oversized shirt had been on his mind all day. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it, wondering whether or not his eyes had been playing tricks on him.

Either way he couldn’t wait to find out.

He had even already queued up all of your favorite dishes for the Chinese food delivery he was planning on ordering a little later in the evening. You were going to get his full attention tonight.

There was nothing he loved more than getting creative and putting that canopy bed to the test, and so far the overpriced-but-well-built bed hadn’t let him down.

He was going to enjoy his time taking you apart bit by bit.

Normally, he was the one to always beat you home, so he was surprised but elated to see your car parked in the drive way. He might need to order that food earlier than he expected, now that there was more time to work up an appetite and you both would need your sustenance for what he had planned.

Whistling to himself as he got out of the Bronco, he unzipped his flight suit and tugged it down tying the arms around his waist, he knew what you liked. And he’d be damned if he wasn’t the star in all your fantasies.

The door was already unlocked, which wasn’t like you. He imagined you probably forgot to lock it in a haste to get inside to grab a cold glass of rosé before catching up on some reality tv on the couch.

He hoped you weren’t watching the newest episode of Below Deck without him. He wasn’t ready to admit defeat yet, but you had gotten him hooked on the show. Captain Lee reminded him of one of the Commanders he’d had during flight school.

Walking in he was a little annoyed to find your shoes and bag littered on the floor of the entry. He likes to keep things tidy, while you like to keep things “lived in”. Bending down he undid his shoes and picked up your things. Putting your bag in the coat closet for you, out of sight out of mind. He knew you didn’t like to bring work home with you if you could avoid it.

Your heels were dangling from his fingers as he turned the corner, expecting to see you curled up on the oversized gray sectional, but you’re weren’t there.

Huh.

As he stands in the living room and listens. He can’t hear the sound of the tv from the bedroom either, the house is silent. Trying to ignore the feeling of wrongness that was taking up residency in his chest, he made his way to the bedroom. The driving need to find you, to check in on you, was the only thing on his mind now.

He opens the door to your bedroom quietly. The room is darkened, but there are faint rays of sunlight making their way past the edges of the blackout blinds he had installed. And he feels instant relief when he sees you curled up on this side of the bed, head pressed against his pillow.

Being mindful of the edge of the rug, trying to not disturb you, he carefully approaches you kneeling in front of where you’re resting. Your face is still clearly holding the strain of the day, and your eyebrows were knitted together. He lightly brushes the hair away from your face, and even in sleep you seek his touch, head moving slightly to chase the feeling of his fingers.

The pressure in his chest lessening, seeing you safe and sound in your shared bed. He presses a gentle kiss to your cheek before he stands up putting your heels back in the walk-in closet, and makes his way to the bathroom.

He wanted to rinse the smell of sweat and jet fuel off before he laid in bed with you. Undoing his flight suit the rest of the way he kicks it off, and his eyes snag on the open box of tampons sitting on top of the bathroom counter.

He is quick to undress the rest of the way, and rushes through his usual post-work shower routine doing just the bare minimum. Just some soap and shampoo, he wouldn’t be waiting the five minutes that was recommended on the back of your conditioner bottle that he liked to use sometimes to keep his hair soft.

Once he is dried off enough to pull on the pair of sweatpants he had worn earlier that morning, he makes his way back to you. Lifting up the covers on your side of the bed to slide in behind you. Wrapping an arm around you as he pressed himself closer to you, and you sighed lightly at the contact.

He lets his eyes drift close as he holds you. He didn’t know exactly what kind of a day you had had, but all that mattered to him was that he would be there for you when you woke up.

You’re warm.

You’re warm and there’s an arm draped over your waist.

You’re warm and there’s an arm draped over your waist and a solid chest pressed against your back.

And for the first time since you’d left the house this morning things didn’t feel as overwhelming as they had been when you were on your own.

“Bradley?” you whisper in the quiet of your bedroom.

You so desperately want him to be awake, you just want him right now.

Please be awake.

“I’m here, sweet girl,” he murmurs, and the relief that washes over you is strong and immediate.

You turn over, needing to be closer to him, wanting to lose yourself in his warmth and to never leave this bed again.

He opens his arms for you, smoothing out some of your sleep-matted hair behind your ear as you drape yourself over him. You didn’t trust yourself to speak, your throat thick with emotion.

He’s looking at you so softly, so tenderly. A crease between his eyebrows as he searches your eyes, as he reads you in that way that no one else does. And you know he knows.

There’s no stopping the cry that erupts from deep in your chest. There’s no holding back the tears that have been prickling behind your eyelids all day.

His gentleness is the thing that ends up being your undoing.

Bradley just pulls you closer, tucking your head into the safe space in the nook of his neck, as you shake with the sobs that reverberate throughout your whole body. Quietly shushing you soothingly as he kisses the crown of your head.

And when he picks up your left hand and kisses the pair of rings that have a home there in an unspoken vow, it only makes you cry harder.

The Toi et Moi engagement ring had never left your ring finger since the day Bradley put it there. Carole’s round diamond nestled next to your mom’s oval shaped one were fixed together permanently in gold. It was only fitting that you carried both of them with you always, a reminder of how their friendship was the beginning of you and Bradley.

Your wedding band had been forged from the melted remains of that symbol of love between the man you never met and the woman who had loved you like a daughter, the people responsible for bringing the love of your life into the world.

Through the sounds of your weeping, Bradley’s quiet murmurs made it to your ears and his words wrapped themselves around your heart.

The delicate I’m sorrys, the soft I’m heres, the gentle I’ve got yous, the tender I love yous.

You heard every single one of them as he repeated them over and over again as you gave yourself up to the tidal wave of emotions that you had been fighting to suppress all day.

You and Bradley had been married for a little two years. You were perfectly happy with your life. Bradley was perfectly happy with your life. And that was all that mattered.

You didn’t feel that ticking clock that seemed to follow women over a certain age around like a dark cloud. Neither one of you was in a particular rush, more than happy to enjoy the process and to take full advantage of that large canopy bed in your bedroom.

There was time, you had time.

However, seeing that stain on the pretty-but-now-probably-ruined lacy lingerie had hit you harder than you ever could have expected.

You and Bradley had only been trying for a couple of months. And logically you knew better, knew that it might take some time to happen.

You knew better, yet your heart hadn’t been given the same message.

And with all of the work drama lately, you really should have thought about how the stress might have played a role when you were a few days late instead of letting yourself get ahead of yourself. You had already been planning on stopping by the convenience store after work to pick up a box of tests, and instead you had come home with a new box of tampons.

Before Bradley, you had never given much thought about being a mother or starting a family. But being with Bradley? Thinking about how he would be the best partner and best dad to a child that was half him and half you, there was nothing more that you wanted than that future.

You wanted it. Oh, you wanted it.

You can feel the burning trail of every hot tear that made its way down your face as Bradley rubbed small circles on your back with his large hand in the sanctuary of your bedroom.

Crying over the work shit that you hated bringing home with you. Of how it felt to be so viciously thrown under the bus and then the relief of knowing your boss sided with you.

Crying over the elderly man selling flowers on the street corner you had seen on your way home and the sad hunch of his back.

Crying over the pretty lace bodysuit that was soaking in the sink of the laundry room that might not never be the same again. And the fact that Bradley never got to see you in it.

Crying over what wasn’t meant to be. At least not right now.

You cried over all of it. All at once. All while Bradley held you, cradled you, loved you.

In your home.

In your bed.

Under the soft green comforter.

On his side of the bed.

His chest ached at the sound of your sobs.

It was agony to feel so helpless as you cried into neck, as he felt your tears on his skin. He would have given anything to be able to take on your pain, it was a burden he would have willingly carried for you.

So he did what he could: he held you.

Held you as you wept. Held you when the sobs tapered into sniffles. Held you as your tears dried on his skin.

When he was sure you were done crying, he pulled back a bit so that he could see your face, to be able to look in your eyes. They were red and swollen, but you were still the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. Using his thumb, he carefully wipes under your eyes to remove the few teardrops that still cling to your lower lashes.

He leans in to kiss you gently, his lips lingering on yours as he breathes you in, before climbing out of the bed.

He didn’t want the shadows of the day to drown out your light any more than it already had.

“Come on, kid,” he says holding out both of his hands to help sit you up at the edge of the bed.

Walking to your shared closet, he sheds his sweatpants and pulls on a pair of jeans and t-shirt. He riffles through the dresser in there, the one he had bought for you a few years ago when he wanted you to move in with him, until he finds your softest dress. Stopping by the bathroom on his way back to you to grab a cool, damp washcloth.

You’re sitting there so despondently, your eyes still holding such sadness. He motions for you to lift your arms up, and he pulls his old UVA shirt up and off your body, replacing it with the dress he had fetched for you. Picking up the towel from where he had set it on the nightstand, he runs it softly over your face. Across your forehead, down the line of your nose, taking special care to be gentle around the delicate skin under your eyes.

When he’s done he tosses back onto the nightstand and crouches in front of you so that his eyes are level with yours. Reaching out he cradles your face tenderly between his hands and asks, “You with me?”

He takes the way you turn your head to place a kiss his palm as a yes.

“Good,” he whispers as he presses his lips against your cheek, “Let’s go.”

Threading his fingers though yours, he leads you out of the darkened bedroom and into the golden light of the late afternoon sun that was flooding into your living room through the diamond paneled windows. He makes a stop in the kitchen to grab you a cold water bottle from the fridge, passing it to you with the hand that wasn’t holding yours.

He helps you with your shoes before sliding his own on, and grabs his wallet and keys. At the Bronco he is the one to help you up and that buckles you in. Rummaging through his glove box to find your sunglasses, he slips the on your face for you before putting on his own. And then with an arm tucked behind your sea, he backs out of the driveway.

There is only a glimmer of an idea in his brain, all he really knew is that he couldn’t stand to see you looking so heartbroken for a second longer.

He is attempting to make a left hand turn when he hears you say, “Bradley, please not this way.”

Unfortunately, he heard your request too late. He was stopped at the light with the traffic lining up next to him and behind him. He turned to ask why you didn’t want to go this way, but you were looking intensively out your window and purposefully away from his direction.

He is confused for a moment and then he is hit with a stroke of brilliance when he sees an elderly man on the set up on the concrete divider surrounded by various buckets of flowers.

He hears you call his name as he jumps out of the car to approach the vendor, he is a man on a mission.

In the vows he spoke when he made you his wife, he promised to be the one person in this world you could count on to make you happy, to be the one person who would love you the way you deserved to be loved.

And that’s what he intended to do.

The hunched over man cheerfully accepted all the bills that he had in his leather wallet in exchange for what was left of his stock. And Bradley was happy that this meant the man could go home for the day and that you would have all the flowers he could get his hands on. It seemed like a more than fair trade to him.

He waved off the older man’s offer to help pile them all in the back of the Bronco, grabbing as many of the cellophane clusters as he could before making his way back to you.

“Bradley!” you laugh almost disbelievingly as he approaches, you’re wearing the first smile he has seen from you since you left the house this morning, and it makes his heart soar. “We’re going to cause a riot here.”

The light is green now and the cars behind him are clearly irritated, but he still another armload to go get, “Let them honk, sweet girl. We’ve got all the time we need.”

Once he has the rest of your flowers loaded in the back, he makes his way to your favorite taco stand. And then your favorite burger place, followed by the place two blocks away with your favorite fries.

And of course, he stops at the milkshake place, ordering a chocolate cherry chip shake for you and a peanut butter one from himself before driving towards the sunset and the beach.

You almost feel like crying again when Bradley parks in the lot at the public beach he has taken you to, but this time you know they’d be happy tears.

“Think we can manage all of this in one go?” he muses jokingly gesturing to the various take out bags that were piled in between your feet.

“I’d bet money on us,” you smile back at him.

“I would too, sweet girl,” he leans in to kiss you before he moves to get out of the Bronco. He rounds the car and opens the door to help you down.

He grabs the Pendleton blanket he keeps under the seat and tucks it under his arm. Then hands you the milkshakes and grabs the rest of the bags before nodding his head towards the beach.

“You know I can carry some of that too, right?” you tease pointing to his overloaded arms.

“Of course you can, sweet girl, but let me take care of this. I’ve got it,” he assures you, although you know he means more than just the bags, “Plus those are our most valuable pieces of cargo, I wouldn’t trust anyone else with my milkshake.”

His affectionate grin was the only balm your heart would ever need.

The two of you only make it a few steps towards the beach before he tells you he forgot something as he doubles back to the car.

Wondering what could have been left behind, you watch him as he sets down the takeout bags down to reach into the back of the Bronco pulling out one of the many brightly colored wrapped bouquets resting in the back. He tucks that under his other arm before gathering the rest of the items for your impromptu beach picnic again and jogs back towards you.

You love him. You love him. You love him.

While you’re enjoying the spectacular show the sun is putting on for you as it starts to set as you stroll along the shore with Bradley, you realize that you’re feeling much lighter than before. That the inescapable heaviness that had settled on you over the course of the day no longer felt like it was resting entirely on your shoulders anymore.

And you know without a doubt that it has everything to do with your husband.

The two of you find the perfect spot in the sand, a little pocket of peace away from the noise of the boardwalk, he stands there for a second with an adorably concerned expression when he realizes the issue that he has created for himself by carrying all the items for your picnic in his capable but overloaded arms. And you laugh as you adjust the milkshakes in your hands to help offload the various bags in his hands so that he can lay out the blanket.

He smooths out the sand some before he opens up the blue geometric blanket. Once it is spread out to his liking, he takes the bags from you putting them in the corner, your only responsibility now to safeguard the milkshakes.

He seats himself down on the woven blanket, patting the space in front of him for you to come join him there. And once you are nestled between his propped legs, he pulls you back to rest against his chest.

You are surrounded by all of your favorite things: your husband, the best of San Diego’s drive-thru culinary offerings, the ocean, and the flowers you didn’t know you needed until Bradley got them for you.

And in that moment, you finally feel at peace as you and Bradley dig in to your picnic as you watch the sun inch closer down to the horizon.

You still had the rest of the week to get though. You knew there would be a mountain of work for you to deal with when you went back into the office tomorrow, that man with the flowers would probably be back in his same location tomorrow his buckets full of new bouquets to sell, and you would still be waiting and hoping for your maybe someday soon.

But you could face anything since you had Bradley by your side.

The food might be cold, the fries a little soggy, and the milkshakes were half melted now, but everything about it is perfect.

You let him support you in more ways than one as you settled more fully against him after you were both done eating. It was easier now to talk to him about your day, about the things he knew about and the things he didn’t as you watched the waves roll in and out along the shore as the tide came in.

You felt him tense up when you told him about your disaster of a day at the office. You felt him squeeze you in celebration when you told you about your unofficially official promotion. You felt him as he kissed your cheek when you told him about the equally ruined surprise and lingerie.

The other part you didn’t need to speak the words for, he knew your heart.

You would always have Bradley, and he would always have you.

That’s how it had always been back when you were kids forming the foundation of your friendship, and that’s how it was now as adults navigating the hardships and joys of this life you were building together.

A life where there was always someone there you could count on to pick you back up when you needed them the most.

He kisses your shoulder and rests his chin there as he takes in the view, gently rocking you side to side.

“I love you,” you murmur softly, resting your head against his, “Thank you.”

You know he hears what you are really saying.

Thank you for treating me the best. Thank you for knowing me the best. Thank you for loving me the best.

“It’s going to be ok, sweet girl” he promises against your mouth.

And you believe him.

Thank you so much for reading! If you need a virtual hug my inbox is always open!

This is a one-shot for my 'Like I Can' series.

Here’s a little moodboard for this fic too!

You can check out my other stories here!

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And that was how you found yourself straddling him, hips grinding down against his. Every time your clothed core met his covered erection, the sweetest moan fell from Bob's lips.

"Darlin'. Lemme take you to bed, p-please." It was difficult to form a coherent sentence, a task Bob was usually pretty good at. But he could feel how wet you were, could feel it through his flight suit.

The proper thing to do would be take you to the bedroom, lay you down, and fuck you six ways to Sunday.

But you had other plans. Plans that involved marking up Bob's neck and grinding your core against his clothed erection.

Every thrust sent electricity up your spine. It was addicting, feeling his firm, toned body withering underneath yours. He was so deceivingly big. You wouldn't be able to tell at first glance, not with how small he tries to make himself, always slouched over. But underneath those loose tshirts was toned, hard planes of muscle and a cock that made you see stars.

Even with the layers of clothes in the way, you can still feel him, God, your cunt is clenching, trying to grip his cock with every thrust. Bob can feel it too, it's like you're riding him almost.

You're so desperate for him, it's dizzying. Your hands can't seem to get enough, roaming everywhere; his shoulders, back, into his hair. Fingernails grazed his scalp, earning another obscene moan from Bob. It spurred you on, hips picking up speed.

"Dar- darlin. Sl-slow down, I- God Al'mighty." The moment your teeth sank into the spot right below his jawline, Bob knew he was a goner. His hips jerked erratically and fuck, you could feel his warmth spreading through his clothes.

Your hips still jerked against his desperately, as though you were trying to milk his cock. Bob's teeth found your bottom lip, tugging before his tongue entered. His large hands held the back of your neck, keeping your lips on his. The kiss was messy and uncoordinated, so unlike your usually composed husband. Hips hips squirmed against yours, unsure as to whether to get away or lean in for more contact.

His skin was hot to the touch and his scent was intoxicating. And still, it wasn't enough.

"Robby," your voice came out in the form of a whine, "N-need-"

You and Harry ignored each other all day yesterday. You stayed in the bedroom and he stayed in the living area. It was only when you stepped out onto the deck did he retrieve a pillow and his luggage to keep outside with him. He should’ve felt relieved to have canceled Adore, and he was excited to tell you, but some part of him—the stubborn part—refused to give in. 

Because you said you were done. 

That all of this would be over once you both went back home. 

And he thought that you’d be okay the next day. He thought that you’d come up to him, tell him that everything that happened yesterday was just a mistake, that you didn’t mean anything you said. 

But you didn’t. 

You kept to yourself. 

Didn’t even spare him a glance when you’d pass him. 

It was like he didn’t even exist. 

Harry knew that today was going to be difficult. You’d both have to continue pretending like yesterday didn’t happen or else his parents, and his family, would catch on. He couldn’t use the same excuse that you weren’t feeling well to get out of today’s activities—he knew his mother would be over to the villa if he ever said that. 

So, he followed your lead. When he saw you come out of the bedroom, Harry stopped and stared. You were dressed casually this time, but still, you managed to take his breath away. You were in a pair of olive green linen pants and a white fitted tank top with an oversized white button up shirt. 

“Hey—”

“Bathroom’s all yours,” you interrupted. “I’m going for a walk. I’ll see you at lunch.”

Harry sighed. “I don’t think it’d be a good idea to go separately.” 

You didn’t look at him. 

And that hurt Harry more. 

“I’ll come up with something,” you answered. “See you later.” 

“Wait,” he sighed. Harry reached for your hand, but you pulled it away immediately when you felt his touch. “We need to talk—”

“There is nothing to talk about,” you interrupted once more. “Let’s just get the next couple of days over with.” 

Harry nodded. “Fine.” 

Then, he watched you leave with a quiet shut of the front door. Harry sighed, glancing over at the kitchen and noticing the same Polaroid pictures you both had taken a couple of days ago. He sighed, wishing that he could just go back to that time. 

Go back to what it was before yesterday. 

Harry turned on his heel and walked down the hallway and into the bedroom. When he stepped foot into the bathroom, he was immediately hit with the scent of your perfume mixing in with the shampoo, conditioner and body wash you used. 

Sighing, Harry turned the water on. As he shut his eyes, all he could see was the hurt and pain on your features during the fight yesterday.

You were walking towards the main building of the resort when you spotted Peter. Sighing to yourself, you tried to look the other way, but he was already jogging in your direction. 

“Hey,” he smiled. “Where’s Harry?” 

You looked up at him and forced a smile. Luckily, your eyes were guarded and covered by your sunglasses. “Oh, he’s getting ready. I wanted to go for a walk before lunch.”

“Mind if I join you?”

You bit your lower lip. “Sure.” 

“Cool, thanks.” Peter smiled, pocketing his hands. “We missed you guys yesterday.” 

“Oh,” you laughed nervously. “Those mimosas were… a lot.” 

“Yeah,” Peter chuckled. “Charlotte told me you just kept ordering more and more.” 

“They were good,” you reasoned. 

Peter looked at you. He didn’t know how to approach the subject, especially considering that what Charlotte told him yesterday wasn’t believable. Harry wasn’t the type of person to be in an open relationship—he’d always wanted to settle down, to find love and now that he had it, Peter didn’t believe for one second that Harry would want more. 

“About yesterday…” Peter began. 

“What about it?” 

“Charlotte told me that you and Harry… you’re in an open relationship?”

You clenched your jaw. Felt your heart break yet again. “We are.” 

Peter nodded slowly. “Really?” 

“Yes.” 

“It’s just—I don’t know. It doesn’t seem like something he’d do.”

You looked up at him. “It works for us,” you said again. You knew you had to say the same things you told Charlotte yesterday or else Peter would catch on and realize everything you said yesterday was a lie. “He gets to do his own thing and I get to do mine.” 

“But you’re still together?” 

“Exactly.” 

“How does that even work? Harry doesn’t seem like the type who likes to share…” 

You shrugged. “You’d be surprised,” you lied. 

“And his membership with Adore? That’s something you’re okay with?” Peter asked. 

“It works for us,” you repeated. 

“Right. I’m just surprised. Yesterday, he told me he didn’t have a membership with Adore and then Charlotte comes back from brunch to tell me that you know that he does.” 

You cleared your throat. Here you were, cleaning up Harry’s fucking mess. “Maybe he didn’t want to tell you that we have an open relationship?” 

Peter’s brow furrowed. In a fleeting moment, he resembled Harry so clearly. You bit your lower lip and stopped walking, glancing over at Peter. 

“Could we… not bring this up to his parents? I doubt they’d be open to something like that,” you asked. 

Peter nodded. “Oh, right. Yes, of course.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Do you—are you happy?” Peter asked. “With my brother, I mean.” 

You forced a smile again. “Yes, Peter, I am.” 

The other man sighed in relief. “Okay, good. Charlotte and I were worried. I mean, my brother is many things, but a cheater isn’t one of them.” 

You nodded and your hand that was gripping the strap of your bag tightened its grip. You blinked back the unshed tears before you heard Harry’s voice in the distance. You turned to look at him approaching both you and Peter. 

“I’m gonna use the bathroom and then I’ll see you both inside. I’m guessing Charlotte’s already there?” 

“Yeah,” Peter answered. “She is.” 

“Great. Thanks for joining me on my walk,” you said, turning on your heel to walk into the main building and away from Peter. 

Away from Harry. 

“Harry, hey,” Peter said, waving. 

“Hey.” 

“You look like shit,” he chuckled. 

“Thanks,” he rolled his eyes. “What did you both talk about?” 

“What?” Peter furrowed a brow. “Oh, nothing.” 

“Uh huh.” 

Then, Peter led Harry away from the building. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“What?” 

“Yesterday, when I asked you about Adore, you were lying to me.” 

Harry’s jaw clenched. “I didn’t mean to,” he answered. 

Peter sighed. “Are you really okay with being in an open relationship?” 

He caught a glimpse of you walking towards his parents. Harry turned to watch you from the large window, biting the inside of his cheek. He could tell you were masking the hurt and pain—your smile looked forced and he knew that you had been crying last night. 

“Yeah,” he finally answered. “It works for us.” 

Peter furrowed a brow. “Really? Because I always thought you weren’t the type to share.” 

“I’m not,” Harry said immediately. “But with her, it’s fine…” 

Peter crossed his arms over his chest. Then, he leaned a bit forward into his older brother’s space. “Did she want the open relationship and therefore, you just went along with it?” 

Harry took a step back. “Stop,” he said. “Stop digging. Stop trying to figure shit out, Peter. It’s my relationship and what works for us might not work for other people, but just… just fucking stop.” 

Peter immediately backed off. He raised his arms as a sign of surrender and nodded. “Okay, okay. I didn’t think you’d react like this.” 

“Like what? Do you see me trying to question everything about your relationship with Charlotte?” 

“Well, no—”

“Exactly. So, stay the fuck out of mine.” Harry blurted out. He didn’t mean to lash out on Peter—everything just felt like it was closing in on him. 

“Peter, Harry!” Charlotte yelled from the main doors of the building, waving them both to come inside. 

Peter stared at Harry. 

He did the same. 

“You’re sure—”

“Leave it alone,” Harry interjected. 

Then, he turned on his heel and began walking towards the doors, towards Charlotte. 

You were at the other end of the table, drink in hand, and laughing at what Carlos was saying. Harry noticed how his cousin was inching closer to you, his jaw clenching at how unbothered you look. Considering Carlos called you a rebound last night, Harry didn’t think you’d actually give him another chance to talk to you. 

He was about to walk towards you when his mother came in and wrapped her arm around his. 

“Harry,” she said with a smile. “She’s looking better.” 

Harry cleared his throat. “Yeah, sorry we had to miss yesterday.” 

“That’s okay,” she replied. “Charlotte said they had some fun at brunch. It’s nice—seeing her get along so well with the family.” 

Harry nodded. “Yeah.” 

“You know,” his mother smiled, gently patting his arm. “She is family. She always has been, and you—you’re different around her, you know?” 

He nodded. He couldn’t respond because all he could think about was the argument you two had yesterday. And a part of him hated the fact that he was lying to his mother, to his family about the true nature of his relationship with you. 

“And you’re happy?” 

Harry looked down at his mother for a moment and then moved his gaze back to you. He stared at you, watching the way you tilted your head back to laugh. Your hand reached out to touch Carlos’s arm and for a second, he stepped forward before taking a deep breath. 

“I am, ma,” he answered. “Very happy,” he lied. 

“Good,” his mother smiled. “And don’t get jealous. Carlos—he’s no match to you. He’s a good man, but she’s only got eyes for you.” 

“I know,” Harry muttered. “I’m not worried about it.” 

“You’re staring, honey,” his mother replied. 

“I just want to make sure he doesn’t take advantage of her,” he said. 

“Oh, come on,” his mother answered, turning to face him now. “We both know she can handle her own.” 

“I know that.” 

Then, his mother noticed the slight flicker that flashed in his eyes. Anger, sadness, regret. “What’s going on, Harry?” 

“What? Nothing,” he answered. 

“It look like there’s something bothering you.” 

“It’s nothing,” he said. “I just didn’t get much sleep.” 

His mother’s brow furrowed. “Did you two get into an argument?” 

“What?” Harry asked. “No, we’re fine.” 

“Hm.” 

He sighed and removed his arm from his mother’s grasp. “I’m fine. We’re fine. I’m gonna get a drink,” he said, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “Don’t worry about me.” 

Then, Harry walked away from her and stepped up to the bar. He ordered a shot of tequila and glanced over his shoulder. You had moved away from Carlos to walk down the hallway where he assumed the bathrooms were. 

Sighing, he thanked the bartender and downed the shot in one gulp. Then, Harry straightened up and followed in your direction. 

The sounds of his family’s laughter and chatter grew distant as he followed you down the hallway. Harry kicked his foot out just before the door shut behind him and he stepped inside and locked it. 

You looked up at him. Harry didn’t see any hint of emotion on your face. 

And that hurt just as much. 

“Can you just give me some space, Harry?” 

“I gave it to you. All day yesterday. Last night. This morning.”

“Yeah, and I need more of it,” you argued. 

Harry sighed. “I’m fucking sorry, okay? Is that what you want to hear?” 

“Saying sorry doesn’t mean anything,” you answered. “What’s done is done. That’s it.” 

He brought a hand up to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t… I don’t like this. I don’t like how distant you’re becoming.” 

“Me?” You scoffed. “We’re nothing to each other,” you said. “Stop acting like we are.” 

He took a step closer to you. 

The words lingered at the tip of his tongue. He wanted to tell you how he felt about—how he truly felt—but the look of disgust and hatred in your eyes stopped him. 

Because you meant it. 

You meant every word. 

This was done. 

You were done with him. 

“I—I don’t know how to fix this,” he muttered.

“There’s nothing to fix.” 

Harry sighed. 

“You said yesterday that I broke a rule… seems to me like you did too.”

His jaw clenched. “I just don’t like this. I don’t know how—how to act around you when it’s like this.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes, we have to do shit we don’t want to do.”

“What does that mean?” 

You sighed. “Nothing.”

“No, what does that mean?” Harry asked.

You looked at yourself in the mirror before turning to face him. 

“You agreed to this,” he whispered. “You said it was okay.” 

“It was a fucking mistake.”

He inhaled sharply. 

You brushed past him and bit your lower lip at just how close he was. 

Harry turned and gripped your arm.

“Let go,” you muttered.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said quietly, loosening his grip around your arm but not quite letting you go. 

“You didn’t.”

“You’re lying.”

You looked up at him and put a hand to his chest, staring deeply into his eyes. “What if I said you did, hm? Then, what?” 

Harry kept his hand around your arm. He stepped closer and dipped his head lower until his face was inches from your own. “Then I’d spend the rest of this trip making it up to you.”

“And after?”

He cleared his throat. “And after… we go home.” 

You nodded, blinking back your tears though they trickled down your cheeks. With a deep breath, you pulled your arm from his gasp and straightened up. “I’m going to go back out there. We have a role to play.” 

“Baby—”

“But when we are back at our villa, you stay in your space and I’ll stay in mine.” 

He was about to respond before he heard a knock at the door. You looked up at him and blinked back the tears, bringing your hands up to wipe them from your cheeks before you took a couple of more breaths. 

“Hey, lovebirds!” Charlotte giggled from outside the door. “Lunch is about to be served.” 

“We’ll be out in a second, Charlotte,” Harry called out. 

He kept his eyes on you and heard the sounds of Charlotte’s heels click against the floor, becoming more distant as she walked away from the door. 

“Can we just—can we talk when we get back to our villa?” 

“No,” you answered, unlocking the door and stepping out of the bathroom. 

Harry watched you walk away, sighing quietly to himself as he let the door shut, slamming his hand against the wall angrily. 

He was seated next to you at the table, sitting across from his parents and Charlotte and Peter. Harry had his arm draped over the back of your chair, but you hadn’t scooted closer like you had before. Instead, you kept your distance. You still made conversation, still laughed and acted like nothing was wrong, but he was finding it difficult to pretend. 

“So,” Harry’s mother grinned. “Will you be moving in with Harry?” 

You looked across the table and smiled. “I think that might be too soon.”

Harry stiffened next to you. His mind drifted and he hadn’t realized that they were all now looking at him, expecting him to chime in the conversation.

“What?” He asked.

Then, you put a hand on his leg. It shouldn’t have calmed him down as it did, but feeling your touch managed to ground him. He looked down at you, but you weren’t looking at him. 

“Your mom was asking if I’m moving in,” you laughed. “I think it’s too soon.”

“Oh,” Harry answered. “Yeah. We don’t want to rush things.”

“Really?” His mother asked. 

Harry felt you move your hand away. He sighed under his breath and reached for his drink, taking a sip of the clear liquid and feeling it burn the back of his throat. “Yeah, ma.” 

“Besides,” you added. “I like my space.” 

“Amongst other things,” Charlotte giggled, winking over at you.

You forced a smile.

His mother furrowed a brow in confusion.

Harry clenched his jaw.

Peter cleared his throat. 

“What does that mean?” His mother asked.

Peter shook his head and gently leaned over to whisper into Charlotte’s ear. 

You kept your gaze on her for a moment before turning to look at Harry’s parents. “Nothing,” you smiled. “Our relationship… it’s different and it works for us,” you lied. “But moving in… I think that’s still too soon.”

Harry spaced out again. He wasn’t paying attention. 

His mother started noticing. 

His father did too. 

“Trouble in paradise, son?” His father blurted out. “Let me give you some advice… she’s always right,” he laughed.

His mother rolled her eyes. “Are you two okay?” 

“We’re fine,” Harry answered. “We just—we both didn’t get enough sleep last night.”

“Oh, so no trouble at all then,” his father winked. 

Your cheeks flushed. You looked over at Harry and then sighed, leaning up to kiss his cheek lightly. He looked down at you, surprised. “Want some fresh air, baby?” 

“Y—Yeah,” Harry answered. “Fresh air sounds nice.” 

His mother nodded slowly. “Okay, go take a walk. We’ll be here.” 

You stood from the table and smiled. “Thank you. We won’t be long.” 

Harry followed your lead, walking away from the table and towards the main doors of the building. 

Peter sighed, glancing over at Charlotte before he felt his mother’s gaze on him.

“What?”

“What’s going on?” She asked.

“Nothing,” Peter answered.

“You’re lying.”

“Mom…”

“What happened?” 

Peter sighed. “They’re okay, just—just leave it alone.”

“Will you talk with him?” She asked. “Make sure he’s okay.”

“I will,” he nodded. “Just—just let them get some air. We’re here to celebrate you and dad, so just don’t think about it.”

His mother sighed. She always did have a soft spot for Harry—her first born. “Okay, honey.” 

Peter leaned over and kissed her temple. “He’s okay, trust me.” 

“Wait up—” Harry jogged over to you, trying to catch up. “Hey—”

“You need to focus,” you interrupted, turning around to look up at him. The building was quite a bit of distance now. “I’m trying my hardest to—to pretend that everything’s okay, but I can’t do that and make sure that you’re playing your part.”

He sighed. “I’m distracted.”

“You wanted this,” you said. “You wanted to lie to them. You asked me to be part of it. So… pull yourself together. We have two more days of this.” 

Harry nodded. He reached out for you, but you took a step back. 

“Please,” you whispered, voice shaky. “I just want to get the next two days over with. So, please…” 

“I can’t,” Harry muttered. “I can’t live like this for the next two days. I can’t—I can’t sit next to you and act like everything’s okay.” 

“Everything isn’t okay!” You exclaimed, staring up at him with tear-filled eyes. “It won’t ever be okay, Harry.” 

“Do you really mean that?” He asked, biting his lower lip. “Do you really think that you can go back to New York and just forget all of this? Forget about me?”

“Yes,” you lied.

He sighed. 

Then, Harry nodded. 

“Fine.” 

“Good.”

He ran a hand over his face. 

“If that’s what you really want—”

“It is,” you lied again. 

Later that day, his mother wanted to spend the rest of the afternoon with the women of the party, which was more than okay with his father. You were exhausted—it was one thing to fake a relationship, but to pretend like you weren’t hurting was another thing. You thought that with Harry no longer by your side for the rest of the afternoon would help, but truth was… you missed him. 

And you had begun pushing him away because finding out that he had a membership with Adore made you realize that whatever was happening this week wasn’t real. He didn’t feel the same as you did because if he did, he would’ve canceled his membership as soon as those feelings started developing. 

It also didn’t help that Charlotte kept asking you questions that just made the pain more noticeable. You wanted to tell her to stop, to quit asking you questions that pushed the limit, but you couldn’t. 

So to get your mind off what truly bothered you, you kept drinking. It numbed the pain and managed to fog your thoughts from Harry, from the hurt you felt. 

You were already on your third cocktail when his mother stepped up to you, leaning against the counter of the bar with a small smile.

“Hey you,” she said.

You grinned in her direction. “Hi.”

“You’re on your third drink,” she pointed out.

“Their cocktails are really good,” you giggled, grabbing your glass and clinking hers softly. “Are you having fun?”

“I am. Are you?” 

You nodded, taking a long swig of your drink. “Mhm.”

“Honey, are you—are you alright?”

“Of course,” you smiled drunkenly. “Why wouldn’t I be? I’m here. I’m with you. I’m with Harry.” 

She sighed. “Something seemed… off between the two of you today. Did you guys—”

“Oh, just a little argument,” you interrupted, waving a hand in the air. “It’s nothing.”

“Right,” she said. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You sighed loudly. “He doesn’t like talking about his feelings, does he? I mean, I shouldn’t complain. I’m the same way.” 

His mother tilted her head. “You haven’t told him you loved him.”

“I don’t,” you blurted out. You had no idea what you were saying. 

She laughed. “I don’t believe that.” 

“He’s just so—” You sighed, shaking your head. “When did you know that you loved your husband?”

“When I realized that I wanted to share all of my moments with him—big and small,” she smiled. “And when I knew that he would choose to stay even when things got tough.”

You nodded, downing the rest of your drink before you raised your hand for the bartender to refill your glass. “I don’t think Harry’s the type of person to stay,” you confessed. “I think he’d—he’d choose the easy way out every single time.”

His mother nodded. “You might be right,” she agreed. “But that’s everyone, isn’t it? Until you find the person that you’re willing to stay for.” 

“And I don’t think that’s me,” you whispered, tears stinging your eyes. 

“Oh honey,” his mother pulled you into his arms and reached up to wipe your tears. “My son is in love with you.”

You shook your head. “He’s not.”

“He is.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“That’s okay,” she laughed quietly. “Because I don’t think he knows it either.”

You inhaled shakily. “He’s right, you know? I don’t think I know what love is.”

“I think you do.” 

“I don’t.” 

“Honey,” she said softly. “You wouldn’t react this way if you didn’t love him too.” 

Harry was seated in the living area with a bottle of tequila on the coffee table when Peter walked inside. He looked around and noticed his older brother seated on the couch, drinking straight from the bottle as he leaned back.

“What are you doing?” Peter asked.

Harry glanced over at him. “Hello to you too. Don’t you knock?”

He rolled his eyes. “Did you sleep out here last night?” 

“What does it look like?”

Peter sighed and snatched the bottle from his grasp. “What the hell is going on?” 

“Nothing.”

“You’re a fucking liar.”

Harry looked at him, eyes dazed. Then, he let out a loud chuckle. “You don’t know anything.”

“Then help me understand.”

“I wish your wife didn’t butt into my relationship.” 

“She didn’t.”

“No?” Harry asked, standing from the sofa and snatching the bottle back. “She didn’t have to say shit, but instead, she chose to.”

“She thought you were cheating.”

“Even if I was, it’s not any of her business!” 

Peter sighed. “You’re not in an open relationship, aren’t you?”

Harry took another swig from the bottle. He set it back down onto the coffee table and looked up at his brother, eyes narrowed. “What the fuck do you think?”

“Then, you were cheating?”

“No,” he sighed. “I wouldn’t ever.” 

“Then, what’s going on? I don’t—I don’t understand.”

Harry shook his head and slumped back against the couch. “I did have an Adore membership.”

“Okay, you did… meaning you don’t have it anymore?”

“I canceled it yesterday.” Harry sighed. 

Peter furrowed a brow. “Why would you have a membership if you’re in a relationship?”

“Because I’m not.” 

“You’re not what?”

“In a relationship,” Harry confessed.

Carlos had his arm wrapped around your waist with your arm draped over his shoulders as he led you back to the villa. You had stayed at the bar while everyone else left and when he showed up, he knew that he had to get you back to Harry. Sure, he liked to rile the other man up, but Carlos actually looked up to Harry. 

When the door opened, Harry’s eyes widened at the sight of you before his gaze turned to Carlos. 

“What the fuck did you do?” Harry mumbled.

“Nothing. I—I saw her at the bar and she was drunk. I figured I’d bring her back and—”

Harry’s jaw tightened and he gently took you from the other man’s grasp, feeling you lean against him. “I got it.”

“I’m sorry. About what I said the other night,” Carlos said. 

“Yeah, sure,” he muttered. “Thanks, Carlos.” Harry shut the door before he gently brought you to the living area, seating you carefully on the couch. He was also drunk, but the sight of you with Carlos had sobered him up just a bit.

“Harry—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” he mumbled. Then, Harry walked away from you to grab you a glass of water. When he made his way back to the living area though, you had your lips wrapped around the bottle of tequila before you took a long swig of it. 

“Stop,” Harry said, taking the bottle from you. “Stop.”

“Leave me alone.”

He sighed and set the glass of water down roughly on the coffee table. “Why were you with Carlos?”

You giggled. “He was sweet. Saw me at the bar and—and said he was gonna bring me back here.”

“He was sweet?” Harry asked. His eyes gaze darkened. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Would you rather I stay at the bar?” You asked, staring up at him.

“I’d rather you stayed here. With me.”

You laughed.

Harry’s jaw clenched. 

“You’re drunk,” he pointed out.

“And seems like you are too.”

“I’m thinking more clearly than you.”

“Are you?” You asked, standing from the sofa and walking over to him. You moved a hand to his chest and noticed the way your gaze flicked to his lips. 

“You’re drunk,” he repeated, taking your hands from his chest. 

“Your mother thinks you’re in love with me,” you grinned. 

Harry’s straightened up. “What?”

“I also told her that you’re not the type of person to stay when shit gets hard,” you answered. “You take the easy way out every chance you get.” 

“Why are you talking to my mother about me?”

“It’s true, isn’t it?” You asked, staring up at him and tilting your head to the side. 

“It isn’t.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes, removing your oversized shirt until you were clad in your tank top and linen pants. “If we’re in an open relationship, you think I have a chance with Carlos?”

“Stop.”

“What? You can plan your dates and everything once we get back to New York, but I can’t?” 

“Carlos is family.”

“Sure.”

Harry stepped closer to you. “And I thought I told you that I don’t like other people touching what’s mine.”

You stepped up to him. Sized him up. “I’m not yours.”

“Yes, you are,” Harry said, one hand moving out to grip your hip roughly. “Just as I am yours.” 

“That’s funny. You’re funny.”

He growled lowly and gently shoved you back against the couch. You looked up at him, eyes wide and dark now. 

“You don’t get it, do you?” Harry asked, pulling the ends of his shirt over his head and tossing it over his shoulder. He settled himself between your legs and moved his hands along your sides. “You’ve always been mine.”

You gasped. Then, you pulled him down for a heated kiss. It was rough. It was messy. But it was fueled by something else—something that neither of you had spoken about or even addressed but knew that it had lingered. 

He moved his hands underneath your tank top, slowly lifting it until he pulled away. He stared down at you and tugged the tank top over your head before he reached behind you to undo your bra. Now fully exposed, Harry leaned down and wrapped his lips around one of your nipples, flicking his tongue against it. 

Your hand moved to his hair, gripping it tightly before you reached down to the waistband of his shorts. Harry swirled his tongue around you, smirking up at you before he moved to your other breast, his free hand pushing his shorts and boxers down his legs. 

“H—Harry…” you whimpered, eyes falling shut. 

“Yeah,” he muttered, pulling away from you. “Say my fucking name.” Then, Harry tugged your linen pants down your legs, bringing your panties down with it. 

Once you were both completely naked and bare for each other, Harry gripped your hips roughly and tugged you to the edge of the couch. He leaned over you, nose brushing with your own as he stared deeply into your eyes. 

“You’re mine,” he growled. “Say it.”

“I’m yours,” you whimpered, feeling the head of his manhood brush against your sex. “Please, Harry…”

“Please what?”

“God, just fuck me already!” 

He chuckled and slowly slid into you. A deep, guttural moan escaped him at the feel of your walls sliding along his length. You were already wet and suddenly, Harry slammed into you all the way. Your body jerked upwards at the rough thrust, a loud moan escaping your lips. 

“That what you wanted?” Harry asked, moving a hand to hover at your throat. “Huh, baby?” 

You nodded, staring up at him as you wrapped your legs loosely around his waist. Harry slowly applied just a bit of pressure around your throat, lowering himself until his lips brushed your cheek lightly. 

“You have no fucking idea,” he groaned, slamming into you once more. “How much you mean to me.” 

Your eyes fluttered and your hand moved to wrap around his wrist, urging him to apply more pressure around your throat. 

Harry’s expression shifted to brief concern. He applied more pressure around your throat, causing your mouth to part before a small smile lined your lips. He relaxed and slowly pulled out to his tip only to push inside of you. He continued the rough thrusts, watching your face contort into pleasure as he slammed into you repeatedly. 

You stared up at him, tears brimming your eyes as you locked your ankles together at his lower back. You knew this wasn’t going to solve everything, that having sex with him especially when you were both drunk wasn’t going to fix anything. 

But you kept thinking about what his mother said earlier. 

Harry was in love with you. 

And you were in love with him too. 

Harry loosened his grip around your throat when he noticed your tears, hearing you inhale sharply as he continued to thrust into you without any sign of stopping. 

“Harry,” you moaned. Your hands moved to his chest and around his shoulders to link your hands together at the base of his neck. Pulling him down on top of you until his body pressed against yours, you leaned in and pressed your lips onto his. 

“M’right here,” he mumbled, one hand gripping your hip as the other moved to rest on the back of the couch. Harry shut his eyes, reveling in the way your body felt against his and the way your lips moved with his own. 

Tears trickled at the corner of your eyes as you kissed him. Part of you felt like this was goodbye, like this was the last time you both would ever be this close again, and it shouldn’t have had this much of an impact on you if you didn’t love him. 

And the sudden realization that maybe you did caused you to pull back from the kiss only to bury your face against the side of his neck. 

He sighed breathlessly, rolling his hips into you. This felt different to him too. It was crossing a boundary, a line that neither of you ever thought to cross. 

But it felt right. 

With you, it always did. 

He knew you were close too. Could feel it in the way your body trembled, could hear it in your voice as you continued to moan his name. 

And all of a sudden, he couldn’t control himself. Harry held you close to him as he continued to hammer into you, feeling his own release fast approaching. 

“You mean—fuck—you mean so much to me too,” you mumbled out, arms wrapping around him now. Your body reacted instantly to the way he felt, every inch of him dragging along your walls. 

That was all it took. Harry slammed into you once more, shooting his warm release into you. He dropped his forehead to your shoulder, gasping loudly at the way you felt around him. He pulled back just a bit only to push back into you, groaning as your tight walls milked every last drop of him. 

Another rule fucking broken. 

Slowly, Harry leaned up to look down at you. He reached up and ran the pad of his thumb across the corner of your eye, wiping your tears away carefully. 

“Harry—”

“Fuck,” he mumbled, pulling out of you and watching his come seep out of you. Harry cleared his throat—something had overcome him at the sight of his release. 

He shook his head to himself, standing upright and walking to the kitchen to grab some towels. When he walked back to where you were lying, he was careful in cleaning you up, biting his lower lip as the tension lingered in the air. 

“We shouldn’t have done that,” you said first. 

Harry sighed. “I know.” 

You looked down at him and stood upright, grabbing the towels from him. 

“Baby…” he whispered. 

“Good night, Harry.” 

He cleared his throat and shook his head. “Please… just stay. Just for tonight, then—then tomorrow you can go back to hating me.” 

You looked up at him and pulled on your oversized button up to cover yourself up. Harry did the same, pulling on his boxers as he looked down at you. 

“If you think I hate you, Harry, you haven’t been paying attention.” 

Then, you turned on your heel and walked down the hallway and into the bedroom. 

Once Harry heard the door shut, he felt his chest tighten. 

And once you were away from him, you started crying. 

Peter grabbed Charlotte’s phone and went through her contacts, hovering over Lucy’s number. “Peter?” 

“You need to stop meddling,” he said. “And you need to stop involving Lucy in my brother’s life. She made her choice and it wasn’t him.” 

Charlotte furrowed a brow. “I didn’t mean to do anything.” 

“I know you didn’t, but—but it has to stop.” 

“Did something happen?” 

Peter shook his head. “No, it’s just—whatever goes on in their relationship is their business.” 

“I know that,” she sighed. 

“Then, we need to stop trying to figure things out.” 

Charlotte sat on the bed and nodded. “Okay,” she agreed. “Okay.” 

“I’m deleting Lucy’s number,” he said. “Okay?” 

Charlotte nodded. “That’s fine.” 

“Listen—” Peter sighed and walked over to Charlotte, gently sitting down next to her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “I’m grateful for Lucy, grateful for Adore because it led me to you, but—but she’s not your friend.” 

Charlotte sighed. 

“Baby, I mean it. We paid her for her services. Yes, she can know about our life, but that doesn’t extend to Harry.” 

She looked up at him. “Did I make things worse?” 

Peter shook his head. “No… I just don’t want Lucy knowing what’s going on with him. She doesn’t need to know.” 

“She asked…” Charlotte admitted. “She asked and I told her. I’m so sorry.” 

Peter sighed and pulled her close to his side. “It’s not your fault,” he said quietly, kissing the crown of her head. “Everything will be okay… I promise.”

After Charlotte had gone to bed and Peter blocked and deleted Lucy’s number from her phone, he couldn’t sleep. Before removing her contact from Charlotte’s phone, he had entered Lucy’s number into his. 

Harry had always looked out for him, made sure that he was taken care of, and now it was his turn. Peter dialed Lucy’s number and stepped into the kitchen, jaw clenching at the sound of it ringing on the other end. 

It rang a few more times before Lucy picked up. 

“Hello?”

“Lucy, it’s Peter.” 

“Peter? Hi,” she answered. “Everything okay?” 

“You need to stay out of Harry’s life.” 

“I’m sorry?” 

“Asking about him? Wondering what he’s doing? It needs to stop,” Peter warned. “You don’t deserve to know anything about his life. You made your choice.” 

Lucy sighed. “I didn’t mean to—”

“I don’t care if you did or didn’t mean to, just leave him alone. Stop asking about him and stop contacting Charlotte.” 

“Peter, I’m sorry—”

“I don’t want an apology. I want to hear you say that you understand and that you agree to leaving Harry alone.” 

She sighed again. “Okay,” she said. “I understand and I agree.” 

“Good.” 

“Is that why he canceled his membership? Because it’s a conflict of interest?” 

Peter scoffed. “He canceled his membership because he’s already in love with someone else. Now, if I hear you try to contact my wife or ask about Harry or my family again, I’m getting my lawyers involved.” 

“Right, of course. Understood,” Lucy mumbled into the phone. 

“Great. Goodbye,” Peter hung up the phone and then blocked her number. 

In the middle of the night, Harry heard the sounds of your feet against the tiled floor. You were trying to stay quiet but you weren’t doing a great job at it. 

He thought you might be going to the kitchen, but he was surprised when he saw you turn the lamp on to illuminate the living area. 

Harry sat up from the couch and looked up at you. You were dressed in one of his shirts and nothing else, but before he could even take in your frame, he noticed your red-rimmed eyes immediately. 

You had been crying. 

“Baby?” Harry asked, standing up from the couch. 

You walked over to him and wrapped your arms around him, burying your face against his chest. 

He inhaled sharply and immediately wrapped his own arms around you, eyes falling shut as he felt your tears against the fabric of his shirt. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. 

“My mind hasn’t changed,” you said, sniffling quietly. “But for tonight, I just—I just want everything back to normal.” 

He nodded. “Okay,” he replied softly. “We can do that.” Then, Harry scooped you into his arms and carried you down the hallway and into the bedroom. He set you down carefully and watched you get beneath the sheets and blanket, turning on your side until your back faced him. 

He bit his lower lip and climbed into bed, moving closer to you until Harry was spooning you from behind. One arm draped over you and he felt your arm rest over his, pulling him closer gently. He leaned forward until his cheek was resting against the side of your neck, turning his head just slightly to press a light kiss behind the shell of your ear. 

You inhaled shakily and moved your hand to rest over his own, lacing your fingers over his. 

“Good night, baby,” he whispered. 

You nodded. You didn’t say anything, afraid that if you did, you’d tell him to get out. So instead, you reveled in the comfort that he provided and felt yourself finally relax. 

Tomorrow would be another day. You’d deal with the consequences then. 

But right now, all you wanted was to just be in his arms like this. 

You were building a sand castle on the beach with your niece when a stray football came flying out of nowhere and would have been a missile to the castle had your reflexes not kicked in to intercept it in time. 

“HEADS UP!” Someone down the beach yelled as another guy came running over. 

“Oh my god I am so sorry, are you ok?” He asked, genuine concern in his whiskey colored eyes. He had on jean cut off shorts and wasn’t wearing a shirt, which just showed off his unfairly chiseled abs. 

“We’re good.” You said, managing to keep your voice normal sounding, despite your brain short circuiting at the incredibly good looking man in front of you…even with the mustache that you’d normally not find attractive. “Managed to intercept the missile before it hit the castle.” You smiled and handed him back the football.

“Well that’s a relief!” He smiled back, his fingers brushing yours as he took it, electricity shooting up your arm. “Wouldn’t want to take out any civilian castles today… especially ones as cool as that one.”

“Livie here is the master castle builder.” You said, smiling at your niece, “I’m just her assistant.” 

“It makes sense that she’s a master castle builder.” He said, smiling and winking at your niece, who blushed and giggled up at him, “I bet she’s a princess in disguise.”

“How did you guess?” You asked in a stage whisper, “That’s top secret information.”

“I’m trained to be very observant.” He replied smiling, then looked at your niece “Your secret is safe with me, Princess Livie.”

“BRADSHAW! STOP FLIRTING AND GET THE BALL!” His friend down the beach yelled. 

“Looks like you’re being summoned.” You smiled up at him. 

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Patience isn’t really in their vocabulary.”

“Do you wanna build with us?” Livie asked, her big brown eyes looking up at him.

“Liv, I’m sure he wants to get back to his friends and football, sweetie.” You said gently. 

“Actually… building sand castles sounds a lot more fun.” He answered, winking at Livie with a smile, “Let me go toss this ball back to my friends and let them know I’m ditching the for a better offer and I’ll be right back.”

“Ok!” Livie said happily. “See, Auntie Dovey? He wants to play!”

“I guess he does, Jellybean.” You smile softly. 

“Just give me a minute and I’ll be back… don’t build without me.” He said before jogging back over to his group of friends. 

You watched him for a moment but then forced yourself to look away, not wanting to get caught staring. Instead, you turned to your niece and smiled. She was having fun today. It was taking her mind off of her dad being gone, which had been the goal. You reached over and brushed a stray curl from her face. 

“Let’s get some more sunscreen on you quickly” You said, “And maybe take a juice break while we wait for your new friend to come back to build.”

“He can be your friend too, Auntie Dovey.” Livey said sweetly. 

“Thanks, Jellybean.” You smiled. 

You slathered her up with sunscreen again and then reached into the cooler to grab a juicebox out of her and a bottle of water out for yourself. 

“Can I have fruit snacks too, please?” She asked, sipping her juice. 

“Sure can.” You said, reaching into your bag and grabbing a pouch of fruit snacks out. “Disney fruit snacks, good enough for my little Princess.” 

“Thanks, Auntie Dovey.” She said, taking the pouch. 

“Looks like you have found a royal snack.” Bradley said coming back over. He’d put on a Hawaiian shirt… but left it unbuttoned. 

“Welcome back.” You said, smiling. 

“Thanks.” He replied, crouching down next to you and Livie. “So, I realized I didn’t introduce myself earlier. I’m Bradley.”

“Didn’t your friends call you Bradshaw?” You asked, looking over at him. 

“Yup. Bradley Bradshaw.” He said smiling, “My parents had a sense of humor I guess.” 

“I like it.” You said, smiling, “I’m Y/N… and you already know Livie..well Olivia, but nobody really calls her that.”

“It’s nice to meet you both..officially.” he smiled, “Ready to build some amazing sand castles, Princess Livie?”

“Yup!” She said excitedly. 

The three of you played in the sand building a very large sand castle. You watched Bradley with your niece, your heart melting at how sweet he was with her. Livie was loving the attention… you had a feeling it had something to do with her missing her dad. 

“So when you’re not helping princesses build amazing sand castles, what do you spend your days doing?” You asked, putting a shell on the castle as decoration. 

“I’m a Navy aviator.” He said smiling as he handed another shell to Livie. 

“My Daddy is in the Navy!” Livie said, popping her head up, “You fly planes?” My daddy fixes planes!”

“He does?” Bradley asked “That’s a really important job. I can’t fly safely unless my plane works!”

“My Daddy is on a big ship right now.” She said, a little less enthusiastically now. “He’s been there a really really long time. That’s why Auntie Dovey is taking care of me.”

“I’d happily spend the day on the beach with you anytime, Jellybean.” You said, smiling softly at your niece, “But, it has been a long few months and I figured a beach day was in order today.”

“Deployments are tough.” Bradley said, “Especially when they’re long. I bet your Daddy is missing you just as much, Sweetheart.” 

“Can we take a picture of our castle for Daddy?” Livie asked, looking at you. “He loves building castles with me!”

“We sure can.” You said, reaching over to grab your phone. “Hop on into that picture, Jellybean. I’m sure Daddy wants to see his Princess.”

“Here, let me take one with both of you in it.” Bradley offered, smiling. “I’m sure he’s missing you both.”

“Thank you.” You smiled, looking over at him, “That’s sweet. Although I’m sure he misses Livie most of all.”

You moved so you were next to Livie, your arms around her, both smiling at the camera as Bradley snapped a few pictures. Afterwards, Livie asked to take her bucket and go closer to the water, looking for more shells. You said she could but to stay where you could see her and not to go into the water. She took off running to the wet sand to dig for shells. 

“She’s adorable.” Bradley said looking over at you, “How old is she?”

“She’ll be 7 next month.” You replied, looking back at him, smiling, “My brother, Luke should be back in time…provided the Navy doesn’t extend the deployment….again.”

“Again?” He asked. 

“The deployment wasn’t supposed to be this long. He’s already been out 5 months.” You said. “It was only supposed to be a quick 3 months at sea this time.”

“That’s rough when the short ones turn into long hauls.” He replied, “It’s never been that big of a deal for me, but I know the others in my squadrons have had families to get home to and it’s hard on them.”

“No family waiting on you to get back to shore?” You asked, “Someone special?”

“Nope.” He replied, something looking like pain flashing across his eyes before he masked it again. “No family…and single. My squadron now has become like a ragtag family…and I recently reconnected with my godfather… but that’s… complicated.”

“I definitely understand complicated family dynamics.” You said, looking over to where Livie was still playing. 

“So how’s her mom doing with the deployment?” He asked, chuckling as Livie cheered at finding another shell. 

“Her mom left the picture when she was just shy of a year old.” You said. “Signed over full parental rights and custody to Luke… two weeks before he was set to set sail on a 6 month deployment.”

“Holy shit.” He said softly. “That’s … wow….”

“Yeah.” You replied, “Luke called me in an absolute panic. He was stationed in Pensacola then. I jumped on a plane and was there by that night. We got it all figured out… eventually. I’m a freelance writer and can do that from pretty much anywhere, so I moved to Pensacola then here to San Diego. Whenever Luke deploys, I’m Livie’s guardian.”

“It’s just the three of you then? No parents or other family?” He asked

“It’s… complicated.” You laughed softly. “Parents… never great at the whole parenting thing. We have an aunt here… well sort of. She was best friends with our mom in college and she kinda took us under her wing… made sure we always had what we needed and were taken care of.”

“Looks like you and your brother landed on your feet.” He smiled, “And you’re doing great with Livie.”

“Thanks.” You replied, smiling back. 

Livie came running back with her bucket, dropping down in front of the two of you, smiling ear to ear.

“Look how many shells I found!” She exclaimed, “Can I take them home, Auntie Dovey?”

“Sure, Jellybean.” You laughed, “You can take them home. Those are very cool shells.”

“You’ve got quite the collection there!” Bradley said, looking into her bucket.

“Can we go show Auntie Penny?” She asked, excitedly. “And Amelia?”

“We can stop by before we leave.” You smiled. “I don’t know if Ames will be there.”

“Penny is the aunt you were talking about?” Bradley asked, his eyes wide in shock. 

“Yeah…” You said, you look over and smile in understanding. “You must frequent the Hard Deck…”

“I mean… yeah…” He chuckled, “But… she’s… dating my godfather.”

“Pete's your godfather?” You asked, laughing. “He’s… a bit of a wildcard. But he’s been good for my aunt… this time. Luke, Amelia and I all gave him the shovel talk.”

“He deserves it.” Bradley laughed, “For what it’s worth… I think he’s settling down. Both personally and professionally. He finally accepted the promotion of rank and is staying on at Top Gun. He’s in charge of the Dagger Squadron.”

“Is that your squadron?” You asked 

“Yeah.” He replied, “We were brought together to fly a mission last October and when we got back they decided to keep us as a unit. It took a bit to get all of our orders changed and reassigned.”

“So you’re… here in San Diego permanently?” You asked

“As permanent as the Navy can guarantee.” He replied, “We fly missions and we’ll deploy, but not like other squadrons.”

“I’m glad he’s sticking around then.” You said, “Penny seems really happy.”

“I’m hungry.” Livie said, moving to sit in your lap. “Can we go eat at Auntie Penny’s?”

“We can stop and say hi, but she’s getting ready to open… and I somehow don’t think Daddy would approve of me having you in a bar when it’s open, Jellybean.” You laugh.  “How about we get a pizza on the way home?”

“Cheese and pepperoni?” She asked

“Of course.” You agreed. 

“That’s a good choice.” Bradley said, smiling. “I parked over by The Hard Deck so I can walk that way with you if you’re going there first.”

“Sure, that sounds good.” You replied, standing up and brushing the sand off of you. “We actually parked over there too… Livie just wanted to come down this way to build.”

You helped Livie put her sundress on over her bathing suit and then tucked the towels into the bag. You had on shorts over your swimsuit and had opted for a one piece today so you just pulled a tshirt on over it. 

“I can help carry your cooler, and whatever else you need me to carry.” Bradley offered, smiling. 

“Thank you.” You replied, taking Livie’s hand with your free hand. 

The three of you start walking down the beach heading the way Bradley had come from earlier when playing football with his friends. Once you got close to The Hard Deck’s back entrance, Livie spotted Amelia sitting on the patio and took off running towards her. 

“How does she still have so much energy?” Bradley asked, chuckling. 

“If I knew that, I could bottle it up and make a fortune.” You laughed, looking up at him.

“Or power a small country.” He teased, winking at you. 

“You’re probably not wrong.” You smile, shaking your head.

Livie is showing her shells to Amelia when you get to the patio. She smiles when she sees you. 

“Hey, Dove.” Amelia said, “Hi Bradley. Livie said y’all were building castles today.”

“Hi, Ames.” You smiled, “We were… decided a beach day was needed… and we made a new friend…but I hear you already know one another.”

“Yup.” She smiled, looking at Bradley, then back at you “I did always say I wish I had a brother like you… guess I’m kinda getting one… of sorts.”

“I’ll happily be your big brother, Amelia.” Bradley chuckled, “Is Mav inside with your mom?”

“Of course.” She said, playfully rolling her eyes. “The rest of your squadron is in there too. Mom’s about to open to the general public though.” 

“That’s our cue to run in and see Aunt Penny before the crowds hit and it’s no longer suitable for a 6 year old in there.” You said, laughing. 

You guide Livie into the bar. The jukebox is already on and you notice the group that had been playing football with Bradley earlier was indeed all gathered at the pool table. He didn’t go over to them though, instead he followed you and Livie to the bar where Penny was slicing limes and lemons for the night and Mav was stocking the cooler with beer.

“Auntie Penny!” Livie said excitedly, climbing up onto a barstool. 

“Hey there, Jellybean.” She replied, smiling, “Auntie Dove brought you to the beach today, huh?” 

“Yup!” She confirmed, “And we builded sand castles and Bradley came and played with us! We made a super big castle… with shells for windows!”

“Wow, that sounds like a way cooler day that I had.” She winked at the little girl, then smiled over at you and Bradley. “Hi, Dove, Bradley.” 

“Hi Aunt Penny.” You said, smiling. “We wanted to stop in before we head home to get pizza.”

“I’m glad you did.” She replied, “I was going to call you later anyway. Are you and Livie free tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Just getting groceries at some point.” You said.

“Then the two of you are coming over for dinner. Pete and I are going to grill out and take advantage of me not having to come into the bar.” She smiled. 

“Sounds fun.” You said, smiling, “What do you want me to bring?” 

“Just yourself and that sweet little girl.” She winked, then looked at Bradley, “We expect you to be there too, Bradley.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He chuckled, “Should I bring anything?”

“Just yourself.” She laughed. 

“How did you manage to end up building castles with Dove and Livie, Rooster?” Mav asked, finishing with the beer in the cooler.

“Jake launched a longshot down the beach and I didn’t get to it in time.” Bradley explained

“Thankfully, I have fast reflexes and saved the castle from being bombed.” You laughed. 

“Then Bradley said he’d build with us!” Livie said happily, looking up at him. 

A woman with dark hair came up next to Bradley on the other side, smirking. She looked over at you and Livie and her expression changed to curiosity. 

“Hey Phoenix,” Penny said smiling, “What can I get you?”

“The squad needs another round please, Penny… on Bagman’s tab.” She replied, smiling. 

“Hey, Nix.” Bradley said

“Hey, Rooster.” She replied, smiling, “I can see why you ditched football for sand castles now.”

“What can I say..” He said, “Livie had a much better offer. She’s a sand castle Queen… you don’t turn down royalty, Nix.”

“I guess not.” She laughed, then looked over at you. “I’m Natasha…or Phoenix… I answer to both.”

“I’m Y/N.” You replied, smiling, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too.” She said, returning the smile. 

“Bradley… why does everyone keep calling you Rooster?” Livie asked, looking up at him. 

“It’s my callsign…. Kinda like a nickname.” He replied, leaning in closer to her, “Pilots all have them…and sometimes everyone uses that more than our real names.”

“A nickname…” She said and you could almost see the wheels in her head turning as she processed the information. Her eyes lit up, she looked over at you, “Like your real name is Y/N but you’re Auntie Dovey.. And Daddy just calls you Dove.”

“Exactly.” You smiled, lovingly at your niece, “And how we all call you Jellybean.”

Phoenix looks at Bradley, raising her eyebrow, smirking. Thankfully, Penny has the drinks ready for her to take to the squad.

“Here you go, Phoenix.” Penny said, winking, “On Hangman’s tab as requested.”

“Thanks, Penny.” She replied, smiling. She picked the tray of drinks up then looked over at Bradley, “You planning on joining us tonight?”

“Maybe later.” he replied, “Gonna run home and shower…change. I’ll text you.”

She nods, looks over at you and smiles, “It was nice to meet you… hope to see you around.”

“You too.” You replied, smiling. Once she headed back towards the pool table, you looked over at Penny, “We should get going. I have to pick up pizza on the way home for Livie and she will be ready for a bath, movie and early bed today after being outside all day.”

“I’ll walk out with you.” Bradley said, smiling. He looked over at Livie who was already looking like her energy levels were waning. “Hey, Princess Livie… want a piggy back ride out to the car?” 

She smiled up at him like he’d hung the moon, her whole face lighting up. 

“Yes, please!” She replied. 

“Hop on up.” He said, then helped her to carefully stand on the barstool so she could climb onto his back. His arms went around her legs to securely hold her while her arms held onto him around his neck as she leaned onto him.  “After you.” He smiled and winked. 

You said goodbye to Penny and Mav and then led the way out to the parking lot and to your car. Bradley carefully crouched down so that Livie could get down, while you put the small cooler and bags into the trunk. He helped her into the backseat and buckled her into the booster seat. 

“Thanks for letting me hang out with you two today.” He said once he’d closed her door. 

“I should be thanking you…” You said smiling, “You really made her day… and I had a lot of fun too.”

“I know I’ll see you both at Penny’s tomorrow for dinner,” He said, looking almost bashful as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “But, would you want to get dinner with me sometime? Or coffee?”

You smile softly, your eyes meeting his, your heart beating a little harder as you reply, “Are you asking me out?”

“Yeah,” He chuckled, smiling the same sweet smile that had made your stomach flutter all day, “Yeah, I am.”

“I’d love to, Bradley.” You replied, butterflies once more fluttering in your belly. “Dinner… coffee… either, or both sound great.” 

“I’ll take both then.” He said, his smile getting bigger. “Since you already agreed… no take-backsies.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” You laughed, “I’ll see you tomorrow at Penny’s… we can make plans from there.”

“Sounds perfect.” He agreed, “Have a great night, Y/N.”

“You too, Bradley.” You replied, smiling as you opened the door and got in. 

He waved at Livie and then turned to head toward his own vehicle. 

Once you arrived home you ordered a pizza and got Livie in a quick bath then changed into her Pjs. The pizza arrived about 45 minutes later and you set her up to eat while watching a movie. As you ate, you pulled your phone out and sent a quick message to your brother. 

YOU: Hey Big Brother! Took Livie to the beach today… she was in need of a pick me up. We built sand castles so she was in her element (see attached pictures). She’s doing great. School’s out for the summer so we’re hanging out and living our best lives now.  Our sand castle was almost destroyed by enemy fire today (AKA a football)... thankfully all of those backyard rounds of catch paid off and I was able to intercept it before it was a direct hit. It did result though in meeting a really great guy. He’s actually an aviator. He was playing football with his squadron, but then ditched them to build sand castles with Livie the rest of the afternoon. He’s actually Pete’s godson. Small world. Having dinner at Penny’s tomorrow… He’s going to be there too. Lukey… I like him. Also… he asked me on a date. 

Have to go for now, Livie is finishing her pizza. Gonna let her watch a few more minutes of Moana and then get her off to bed. Love you and miss you. ♥️Dovey

You hit send and then set your phone down. A few minutes later, Livie was done with her pizza and already starting to nod off. You paused the movie and helped her up the stairs to get her teeth brushed and then tucked her into bed. You promised tomorrow to help her write a letter to her dad. She wanted to send a picture she drew and tell him all about her new friend. You had a feeling Luke would be hearing an awful lot about Bradley in the coming days.

***

A/N: Thoughts? Do we want more? Leave it here? LET ME KNOW!

***

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He didn't need to be seen by some overqualified medic to know what was wrong with him. His shoulder throbbed in a way that felt deep and wrong, like his body had come undone and refused to settle back into place. It was dislocated. The jolt from the impact of the ATV spinning out beneath him before everything went white had told him that. A sling kept his arm immobilized against his chest as he waited for someone to help him pop it back in again.

Sy had been sitting there now for the past four hours. He wasn’t complaining, not really. The stillness gave him time to think and go over his argument with Riley. He was kicking himself for how he’d handled it. Not for the assumption itself-or that's what he told himself- as that was him merely putting the fragments of the facts together and drawing the ‘obvious’ conclusion. No, he was angry that he’d gone in too fast, too sharp, practically blindsiding her with an accusation that now felt heavier with every passing minute. And the worst part? He couldn't undo any of it.

As the fifth hour slipped by, marked only by the slow crawl of the clock and the dull ache in his shoulder, Sy caught the soft shuffle of footsteps outside his cubicle. They were different from the rubber-soled rhythm of the hospital staff he’d grown used to. Carefully, he leaned forward and peered beneath the curtain, the movement drawing a sharp wince as pain flared through his shoulder. A moment later, the unmistakable sound of his sister’s voice drifted through the thin curtain asking one of the nurses if it was ‘okay to go in’.

“Hey, Jake.” Charlotte smiled as the curtain peeled back.

Sy offered a soft ‘Hey’ back.

“I know you took your Uncle duties seriously these past couple of days. But seriously? Injuring yourself just to get yourself back in here, seems a little extreme, don't you think?”

Sy arched an eyebrow at her that screamed, ‘Seriously?!’ But he simply voiced a grumble back at her.

“What happened?” Charlotte sighed as she sat gingerly on the edge of Sy’s bed.

Her tone was soft and non-judgmental. Just a big sister, stopping by to check on her brother with a willingness to listen. Sy knew she wasn't talking about the accident. It wasn’t the first time he’d dislocated a shoulder or landed in hospital. No doubt she'd have heard from Ethan- or worse their Mom - about the fight with Riley. Their last conversation had been about her after all.

“I know about the ranch, Charlotte.” He said stoically.

Her eyebrows shot up and her mouth opened to argue back,

“Don’t deny it.”

Sy chewed on the inside of his lip and leaned his head back against the pillow propping him up. He stared at the ceiling as if there were something worth focusing on there. Focus on anything but the tightness in his chest.

“I won’t deny it, Jake.” Charlotte replied flatly.

“What is it you think that you know?” Her voice took on a careful vagueness.

Sy told her everything. The brochure he hadn’t been meant to find, the cryptic conversation about him ‘taking over the reins’, and Charlotte’s quiet confirmation that Riley had gone back to Montana. The words came out uneven at first, but once he started, they kept going, spilling over themselves. Probably the way he should have spoken with Riley, before he drove off in the wrong direction that landed his ass back in the hospital. He lifted his gaze to his sister when he’d finished. Almost daring her to contradict what he’d realised too late. Charlotte couldn't argue, not without breaking Riley’s trust. Sy was her brother, but Riley…Riley had become something just as close to her, in all the ways that mattered. Now she was torn between them.

“Okay, so you know….alot.” She said diplomatically.

This caught Sy’s attention, his gaze following as she pushed herself to her feet and began pacing the length of the cubicle. Charlotte stopped at the end of his bed, bracing her hands against the metal railing, her grip tightening slightly before she let out a slow, steady breath. It was only then that it properly registered. She’d given birth just a couple of days ago. The loose pyjamas, the draped bathrobe should have been the first clues. But he’d been too wrapped up in his own head to notice, too consumed by everything else to see what was right in front of him.

“You know a lot, Jake. But you’ve got to believe me when I say this. You have this all wrong.”

Sy narrowed his eyes at her, the look in them making it unmistakably clear, her explanation hadn’t made anything clearer.

“Will you do me a favour?” Her tone left no room for interpretation. It wasn’t a request.

“Just talk to her.”

Sy scoffed lightly, “I think after what I said to her, there’s little chance of that happening.”

“You won’t know unless you try.”

Sy let out a heavy breath, the weight of it lingering in his chest. He knew she was right—with uncomfortable clarity—but that didn’t make it any easier. He’d already made such an ass of himself that the thought of trying to fix things now left him tangled in a mix of fear and embarrassment, unsure how to even begin setting it right.

“Alright.” He said nervously.

“Can you pass me my phone, please? It's in my jacket pocket.” He pointed with his good arm to the chair near the bed.

Charlotte’s face shifted into a guarded, almost cagey expression.

Sy didn’t notice it at first, but on a second glance, he caught it.

“You won’t be needing that.” She said mysteriously.

Without another word, Charlotte crossed to the small gap in the curtain and slipped through, offering her brother a quick, easy smile before stepping out of the cubicle. Sy watched confused at first, then felt his chest tighten as Riley came into view.

“Can I come in?” She asked carefully. Her voice was small and almost timid.

“Yeah, sure. C’mon in.” Sy replied ineloquently.

He could feel his thoughts and his mouth threatening to run away with him again, the words already racing to come out.. This time, though, he caught himself, forcing both into a tight rein. Making himself pause just long enough to breathe and wait.

Riley glanced around the small cubicle, unsure where to settle. Something in her urged her toward the bed, but her instincts held her back. Instead, she pulled the chair a little closer and sat beside it, resting her hands loosely on the covers, as if keeping a careful distance. That hurt Sy more than the awful way he’d pounced on her earlier. The quiet realization that she felt cautious around him now, instead of… safe.

Riley swallowed hard, forcing the lump in her throat down as she steadied herself. It wasn’t that she didn’t know what to say, the words were there; but they felt heavier, harder to push out, tangled up in the swell of her own hurt.

“I know I owe you an explanation, Sy and I’m sorry that I’ve kept this from you.” She began.

Sy tried not to let his thoughts spiral, fighting the instinct to chase every possible direction her words might lead.

“When I asked you if you wanted to take back control of the ranch, it wasn’t because I’m leavin’ or even thinkin’ of leavin’.”

She heaved another shaky sigh.

“When my brother came to town the other month, he offered me a job. He wanted me to go back to Montana and run the family ranch.”

Riley pulled from her pocket the now soggy and dogeared brochure front cover. She unfolded the glossy page and attempted distractedly to neaten up the edges.

“But, I love my life here. I love Heartland. I love your family.”

Sy listened and watched her hoping she would say the three words he wanted to hear.

“I never really considered takin’ him up on it.”

“So, why did you go back to Montana?” He voiced quickly. Not accusing but desperate to understand. Then a flicker of guilt crossed his face as he realised he’d interrupted her.

“Charlotte has always wanted to turn Heartland into a full holiday experience. Expand the pavilion, build little cottages for the guests to sleep in, the whole chebang.”

Sy nodded, following her train of thought. It wasn’t exactly a secret—Charlotte had talked everyone’s ears off about her dreams for as long as he could remember—but somehow, she’d never quite managed to get them off the ground.

“I went to Montana to offer my brother…my family, a business proposition. If he invested in Heartland, gave us the money to get the holiday side of things off the ground, he could take a share of the profits until it was paid back.”

Riley's eyes lit up as she explained her plan.

“What did he say?” Sy asked with genuine interest.

“He’s going to invest two million dollars into Heartland.”

Sy’s mouth fell open, shock flickering across his face. Two million dollars was an enormous, almost unreal amount of money. The kind of money that could take Charlotte’s dream and finally turn it into something real. Sy’s brow furrowed for a moment.

“Why would he do that?”

“Because I love you, you idiot!”

Riley burst into tears, her emotions breaking free all at once. Happiness and relief. It felt almost overwhelming, the weight of everything she’d been holding in finally giving way. She didn’t know why she hadn’t said the words sooner, why she’d kept them tucked away for so long. Because she loved him—completely, honestly—and she had for far longer than she’d ever admitted, even to herself.

Sy couldn't bear to watch her cry, and least of all over him. With his good arm he beckoned her towards him and she didn’t hesitate. Riley climbed onto the edge of the bed as best she could as he cradled her into his side. He brushed his nose gently against hers before capturing her lips in a kiss—firm, deep, and unguarded. He poured everything into it: regret, relief, love, all of it rushed out in that single moment.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.” he murmured, the words repeating in soft, breathless fragments against her lips.

“I’m a fuckin’ idiot. I love you so much!”

Riley let out a soft, tearful laugh against his mouth and kissed him back with equal fervour, meeting him in every ounce of it.

She stroked the side of his stubbled cheek, her gaze fixed on him as the last of her tears slowly dried against her skin.

“That wasn’t the only reason he agreed.” She said cryptically.

“No?” he laughed, softer this time, relief easing into his voice.

“No. He agreed when I told him that I wasn’t ever goin’ to leave Heartland.”

Sy furrowed his brow, giving a small shake of his head as he gestured for her to go on.