“Can’t—” she breathes, her words breaking between our mouths. “Can’t stop needing you.”
“You don’t have to,” I murmur, my forehead pressing to hers as I catch her waist and lift her slightly, letting her legs wrap around my hips. She lets out a soft, startled breath against my ear, her hands clinging to my shoulders as I carry her toward the bedroom.
The room is dim as I lay her back on the bed, my hands roaming the length of her sides, feeling the tremble beneath her skin. Her chest rises and falls quickly, her eyes finding mine with a mixture of disbelief and relief so profound it nearly takes me under.
“Kyle,” she whispers again, reaching up and brushing her knuckles along my jaw, “I can’t believe you saw me… back then.”
“I didn’t just see you”—I lean down to kiss the corner of her mouth—“I felt it. Like you were the beginning of something that would wreck me and rebuild me all at once.”
Her fingers slide into my hair, tugging lightly, pulling me down until our lips brush again. The kiss deepens, soft at first, then hungry, like she’s trying to memorize me breath by breath. My hands move over her—her waist, her hips, the curve of her thigh—touches meant to reassure and promise and speak all the things I don’t know how to say with words alone.
She pulls my mouth to her throat, and her breath breaks in a fragile exhale. “I love you.”
“Say it again.”
“I love you,” she breathes, the words shuddering out of her. “I love you so much it terrifies me.”
“I’ve got you,” I whisper, kissing her again, deeper this time. “You won’t fall with me around.”
Her hands explore my back, pulling me flush against her. My breath stutters as everything in me sparks to life. I reach into the nightstand, fingers closing around the foil packet before I tear it open and roll the condom on. Her eyes are locked on mine the whole time, like the moment itself is intimate enough to undo her. Then I lower myself over her again, my hand cradling her cheek, and she arches up to meet me, her breath brushing my lips.
We move together slowly at first, our bodies speaking a language we’re relearning in real time. Her fingers trace my shoulders, my spine, slipping into my hair and pulling me down into another kiss that steals what little control I have left.
Her breath catches, her hands clutching at me like she’s afraid I might slip away. Every soft sound she makes unravels something inside me. I answer her with deeper, steadier movements, my forehead pressed to hers and my voice breaking around her name.
“Alycia, look at me,” I whisper. “Stay with me.”
She does. Wide, shining eyes locked on mine,vulnerability spilling out of her like a truth she can’t contain. And the world narrows down to the quiet, beautiful way she says my name, not like a question or a fear or a warning, but like a home she’s finally stepped into.
The urgency builds, her body shivering beneath mine as she clings to me. When she breaks—softly, beautifully—her forehead presses into my shoulder, her whole body tightening around a breath that barely makes it out of her. And I follow her into the blur of heat and emotion, burying my face in her neck, breath shuddering, everything inside me unraveling in one long, trembling exhale.
Afterward, we don’t move. I stay inside the shelter of her, letting our heartbeats slowly fall back into a shared rhythm. Her fingers draw aimless patterns across my back, soft and absent, like she’s comforting herself as much as she’s holding me there. Eventually, I press a lingering kiss to her shoulder and ease away, taking care of the condom quickly in the bathroom before returning to the bed. She watches me the whole time, eyes soft and open in a way that makes my chest feel too small.
I slide back beside her, pulling the blanket over us. She lifts the covers and tucks herself into my side like she’s been doing it for years. For the first time in longer than I can remember, I feel… settled.
“You meant it,” she breathes. It isn’t a question.
I tilt my head, meeting her gaze. “Every word.”
“I really was going to send that resignation and walk away from all of it.”
“I know,” I say, brushing her hair off her cheek. “And I hate that it ever felt like that was your only option.”
“I don’t want to be that girl anymore.” She exhales slowly, the sound trembling. “The one who calls it strength when it’s really just fear.”
“Then don’t.” I cup her cheek, thumb brushing tenderly along her skin. “Whatever comes at us next, we face it together. You’re not facing anything alone again, Alycia. I won’t let you.”
Her eyes shine with fresh tears gathering but not falling. She leans up and presses her mouth to mine, before settling back into me, cheek pressed over my heart as my fingers drift lazily through her hair.
The quiet between us finally feels earned as her breathing evens out, warm against my skin. And because the moment is too perfect not to ruin just a little, I murmur, “You know… you still owe me fifty bucks.”
“For what?” She freezes, then lifts her head slowly, eyes narrowing.
“I was your fake boyfriend for a whole twenty-four hours,” I say, feigning offense. “Don’t tell me my performance was anything short of perfection.”
“So I'm supposed to pay my actual boyfriend for being my fake boyfriend, before he became my real boyfriend?” She groans, burying her face in my chest. “Now I have a headache.”
“I’m pretty sure you shook on it,” I say, unable to stop the grin. “And now you’ve confessed you’ve been in love with me since the elevator, so really, you owe me interest.”
