"Look at me," he demanded.
I opened my eyes, met his dark gaze. Saw myself reflected there, flushed and wanting and his.
"I love you," he said again, the words punctuated by movement. "Tell me you believe me."
"I believe you." The words came out broken as the pressure crested. "Eric, I?—"
"I've got you." He shifted his angle slightly, and I shattered.
He followed moments later, my name on his lips as he buried his face in my neck. We stayed like that for a long moment, tangled together and breathing hard. His weight on me felt perfect, grounding.
Eventually he rolled to the side, pulling me with him so we were facing each other. His hand traced lazy patterns on my hip.
"Hi," he said softly.
I laughed, feeling light and warm and more settled than I had in years. "Hi yourself."
"No regrets?"
"Not yet." I kissed his jaw. "Ask me again in the morning."
"I will." He pulled me closer, until every inch of us was touching. "And every morning after that."
The doorbell rang, making us both jump.
"Dessert," Eric said, sounding reluctant to move.
"Actually," I said, grinning wickedly as I traced my finger down his chest, "I think we just had dessert. And it was much better than anything they're delivering."
His eyes darkened. "Yeah?"
"Oh yeah. Best dessert I've had in four years." I pushed him onto his back, straddling his hips. "The churros can wait. We'll need them later anyway, for fuel."
He grinned up at me, hands settling on my waist. "I like the way you think. Very practical."
The doorbell rang again, followed by a knock.
"They're persistent," I muttered.
"Ignore it," Eric said, pulling me down for a kiss. "They'll leave eventually. Besides, we've got our own sugar rush to work through first."
I laughed against his mouth. "God, you're terrible."
"You love it."
"I do," I admitted, and meant it.
So we did ignore the food, ignored the outside world, ignored everything except each other. And when we finally did emerge from my bedroom, hungry and rumpled and wearing nothing but smiles, the churros were cold but I didn't care. They'd serve their purpose—refueling us for round two.
Because Eric was here. Really here. And for the first time in four years, I let myself believe he might actually stay.
EPILOGUE
ERIC
Ileaned against the stone pillar near the pool, watching Ivy laugh at something Sofia said while cradling Marcello against her chest. The kid looked completely content in her arms, his tiny fist wrapped around one of her fingers.
Three months since I'd convinced her to move into this place with me. Three months of waking up to her sprawled across my chest. Three months of learning what it felt like to build something real instead of just surviving in my father's shadow.
