Is Ronan going to lose it?
Is he going to get too intense? Play too rough with his new favorite toy?
Maybe.
Probably.
But I’m not sorry.
Because Berk isn’t a toy. She’s a fire I’ve been standing too close to for years, and now I finally get to touch her. I finally get tohaveher—and yeah, I’m gonna feel all of it. Every spark, every flame, every burn.
But what they don’t get, what I think they’re only just figuring out, is that shegetsme. Really, truly sees me.
She didn’t flinch when I challenged her earlier. Didn’t shrink or shy away when I got in her space, let her feel the full weight of everything I am. She didn’t look scared. She looked ready. Like she was built to handle my brand of chaos.
She met me head-on.
Literally.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I say, swinging my legs down off the coffee table and glancing between them. “I know what you’re both thinking.”
Emerson raises a brow. “Do you?”
Rowen stays quiet, but the tension in his jaw says everything.
I smirk, leaning back on my hands. “You’re wondering if I’m gonna go full Ronan with her. If I’m gonna love her too much, too fast. If I’m going tobreakher somehow.” I pause just long enough for the weight of my next words to settle. “Well, guess what? She’s not breakable. And even if she was...” I shrug. “She’d still bemine.”
Rowen shifts like he wants to argue, but I cut him off, softer this time.
“Sheknowsme,” I say. “The messy, impulsive, slightly feral version of me you guys have had to keep on a leash since we were twelve? She looked that guy in the eye today and didn’t blink.” I sit up straighter and stare them both down. “So don’t worry about me with her. Don’t try to manage us. Don’t hover. She’s not afraid of me—and I’m not gonna hurt her.” I pause, letting the silence drag just long enough to be dramatic. Then I flash a crooked grin and say, “Probably... unless she asks me to. Then all bets are off.”
Emerson snorts. “You’re insane.”
“Only on Thursdays.” I grin wider. “And maybe Wednesdays. Depending on blood sugar levels.”
Even with the laughter still echoing, the air shifts again—like we all feel something hanging in the quiet between us. Because underneath the sarcasm and streaking threats and barely contained chaos, I mean it. Berkley isn’t just a girl to me. She’sthegirl. My axis. My calm in the storm—and also sometimes the storm itself, which I love just as much.
I’m going to love her exactly how I’ve always wanted to. Out loud. Unapologetically. With everything I’ve got.
And yeah... maybe a little off the rails. But hey, a little derailment keeps things interesting.
Still, that’s a tomorrow problem.
I shift gears as I always do when emotions start creeping too close to the surface. I sit up, stretch like I’ve just rolled out of a three-day coma, and shake the mood off.
“Alright,” I say, running a hand through my hair. “Back to our regularly scheduled programming. What fresh hell are our dads cooking up this week?”
Emerson leans forward, his jaw tight, like he’s been waiting for someone to ask. “They’ve been having me sit in on more meetings lately,” he says. “Bryce is getting bolder. Less careful. Dropping names and numbers like I’m already locked in.”
“What numbers?” Rowen asks, brows drawing together.
Em shrugs, but it’s a shrug that carries weight. “Business projections. Investments. An overseas account they won’t explain. Nothing’s illegalyet, that I know of, but it smells... off.”
And there it is.
That tingle at the back of my neck. My built-in danger alarm.
Spidey senses activated.
