Release tore through me first, sudden and consuming, a cry muffled against his shoulder. He followed seconds later, his whole body shuddering as he pressed deeper, lost in me.
We collapsed together, sweat-slick, tangled in sheets that smelled faintly of us. He kissed the corner of my mouth, then my temple, then just held me while our breath evened out.
The house crept back in by inches—the AC kicking on, a car driving down the street outside, his phone buzzing once and then going quiet wherever it was on the floor. I tugged the sheet higher and pressed a last kiss to his shoulder before we reached for our clothes. He pulled on his jeans and found his shirt. I slid into mine, fingers clumsy and content.
“Water?” he asked, voice rough.
I nodded. We padded down the hall then the stairs, the floor cool under our feet, and the kitchen tap thundered into a glass. We shared it, passing it back and forth until it was gone.
On the couch, the room reset around us. Streetlight cut a pale stripe across the rug. The quiet shifted from intimate to real—tomorrow pressing at the edges.
He kissed me once more then leaned back to look at me fully.
“We’re not alone in this,” he murmured. “Elise will make moves. Dunn will too. My family won’t stay quiet. We choose who gets our time. We choose where the story goes when we can.”
“We choose each other even when we can’t,” I said.
“Especially then.”
He stretched, shirt lifting just enough to tease. I reached without thinking, tracing the line of muscle at his side. He caught my wrist lightly, his mouth curving. “Careful. Keep touching me that way and I’ll be ready for round two.”
“Maybe I’m trying to memorize you before everything changes again. And I don’t want you to stop. Not anymore.”
His mouth brushed mine, brief, hungry, as though he wanted proof. Then he bent and kissed the inside of my wrist. “I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured. “If you run, I’m chasing you. If I push, you pull me back. Deal?”
“Deal.”
No contracts. No words carved in stone. Just the press of skin and breath, a promise heavier because we knew exactly what it would cost.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
LUKE
The room had gone still as dawn approached, the air heavy with that in-between quiet before morning fully wakes. I couldn’t resist her touch. One brush of her hand, and I’d followed her back upstairs. Mila shifted in my arms, her head resting on my chest, breath warm against my skin. A thin line of gray pressed at the blinds, hinting at daylight but not yet breaking through. I lay there, tracing idle circles against her shoulder, my mind refusing to stop spinning.
She stirred, voice muffled against my skin “You’re thinking too loud.”
I huffed a quiet laugh. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You didn’t,” she mumbled, eyes still closed. “You just do that thing where your brain starts pacing.”
I smiled into her hair. “The University of Michigan wants me,” I whispered, fingers tangled in her hair. “Full ride. Their coach made that clear.”
“Congratulations, Luke.” Her lips brushed my collarbone, voice soft with sleep. “I’m not surprised, though. What are you thinking?”
“It’s everything I wanted.” I kept my voice low. “Or was. Because without you, it’s just a school. Another hockey team.”
I glanced down, needing to see her expression, but her eyes stayed closed. A faint smile curved her mouth—there, then gone.
“Mila?”
She didn’t answer, her breathing already evening out. I stared at the ceiling, her weight warm against me, the wordfuturesitting heavy on my tongue.
Mila was asleep when I reluctantly slipped from the bed. Sheets tangled around her waist; her bare shoulder caught the light leaking through the blinds. Her hair fanned across the pillow, lashes casting spiked shadows across her cheeks. Her lips were still swollen, cheekbones pronounced even in sleep. She had a natural beauty that didn’t need polishing—it just was. Inside and out.
I didn’t want to leave her. Every muscle told me to climb back in, bury myself in her warmth, stay there until the sun forced us to move. But her mom’s car could pull in at any minute, and the last thing Mila needed was another fight on her doorstep.
What we had wasn’t something I could name. It was more than I’d ever let myself want and nothing I’d felt with anyone else. The pull to her was constant. She walked into a room, and every part of me turned toward her. She didn’t even know how much power she held over me. One touch of her hand could bring me to my knees.
