“And?” he asked, brows raised a little.
“And I’m not against it.”
The look he gave me damn near set the table on fire.
He brought my lips closer by the back of my neck and kissed me so slow and deep that the dam broke.
“Good,” he murmured against my skin. “Because I'm not going anywhere. And I don't want you to either.”
I kissed him softly, letting that sink in. We stayed like that for a moment, wrapped up in each other while the party moved below us. Then the energy in the room shifted, and I heard the opening notes of a song I knew by heart.
Isaiah Falls started withBROWN SUGAH, before transitioning intoHave My Babies,and I was pressed against the balcony glass, losing my mind. The crowd was going crazy, singing every word back to him, and I was right there with them. DaVinci stood behind me, arms wrapped around my waist, letting me have my moment.
Isaiah’s voice cut through the music. “Silverrun, y'all been amazing tonight! Before I get out of here, I gotta give a special shoutout to someone in the building.” He pointed up toward our section. “Halo Grant, firefighter, lifesaver, DaVinci Bryns' lady. This one’s for you, beautiful.”
My hands flew to my mouth. The crowd erupted, turning to look up at us, phones out, cameras flashing.
“Oh my God,” I breathed. “He just…”
“He just shouted you out,” DaVinci said in my ear, grinning. “It’s always about you, baby.”
Isaiah launched into the final chorus, and I couldn't stop smiling. When the song ended, and he walked offstage, sweat on his brow and the crowd still screaming, the band slid into something slower with low bass and warm horns. This was grown and sexy shit. The vibes made couples pull closer without thinking.
Back in the booth, we did the same.
I turned in DaVinci's arms and leaned into him. For the first time all night, it felt like my life had finally exhaled. He looked down at me, brushing a curl from my face, trying to read how far my night could stretch.
“You wanna stay here another hour?” he asked, his voice dropping so low that the room seemed to shift, sharp and focused; he and I were the only things in it.
“Or?” I asked, raising a brow.
His eyes slid down to my hands resting on his thigh. “Or I take you home and make good on those glow-in-the-dark nails you keep flashing in my face.”
“Check, please.”
He laughed quietly—deeply—and stood, pulling me up with him.
We slipped out the private door a little after midnight, wrapped in good food, good music, and the peace I hadn’t realized my body needed. The city lights hit him as we walked—stretching across his jawline, catching the oil in his beard, softening the hard edges.
He looked at me like I was the only thing he saw.
“I love you,” I said as he helped me into the truck. The words came easily. And so damn true.
“I love you too, Angel.”
We rode home in silence.
At the house, he didn’t even let me walk. I climbed onto his back, laughing into his neck when he bounced me once just to feel me holding tighter. He carried me straight inside, his big hands warm on my thighs, his grip steady.
We didn’t waste time.
Didn’t turn on the lights.
Our clothes hit the floor. The nightlights he had installed for me glowed softly, just enough to light the room without killing the mood.
And my nails lit up exactly how I knew they would, glowing soft in the dark while we stood there naked and breathing hard. His eyes dragged down my body in a way that told me he wasn’t done. Not even close.
I dropped to my knees.
