“Well, well, well,” she drawls, crossing her arms as she leans against the kitchen counter. “Look what the cat dragged in.”
I smirk. “Miss me, Lilah?”
She snorts. “Not even a little.” But there’s humor in her tone, and she doesn’t hesitate to step aside, waving us in.
“Ash is in her room, finishing up some work calls,” she continues, glancing toward the closed door at the end of the hall. “Give her a second before you barge in and make her drop her damn phone.”
Todd tilts his head. “How’s she been?”
Lilah sighs, a flicker of something unreadable passing over her face before she schools her expression. “Busy. Stressed.” Her gaze flicks between us, her lips quirking. “Missing you idiots—not that she’d ever admit it.”
That makes my chest tighten in the best way.
Jake shoves his hands into his pockets, smiling. “Good.”
Lilah raises a brow. “Good?”
He shrugs. “Means she still feels it.”
“Of course she does,” Lilah says, rolling her eyes. “She wouldn’t have ever let you mark her if she wasn’t sure.”
I smile. She’s not wrong.
Lilah presses her lips together like she wants to say something else, but instead, she just sighs. “If you’re here to make things right, don’t screw it up this time.” She grabs her purse from the counter, slinging it over her shoulder. “And try not to make her scream too loud. She has neighbors.”
I smirk. “No promises.”
Lilah rolls her eyes, shaking her head like she regrets saying anything at all. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t forget that she’s been holding it together without you guys for two months. Be what sheneeds—not just what youwant.”
Her words hit harder than I expect. I feel them settle in my chest, pressing against something raw. We’ve been counting down the days until we could get back to her, but she’s been here, alone, navigating everything without us.
Jake nods, his voice steady. “We got her.”
That seems to be enough for Lilah. She doesn’t say anything else, just pulls open the door and disappears into the hallway, leaving us standing in the quiet of Ashlyn’s apartment.
Todd is the first to move, rolling his shoulders like he’s shaking off the weight of the last two months. He glances at West, then at me. “Let’s go to our girl.”
And just like that, the energy in the room shifts.
Two months of missing her. Two months of not touching, not scenting, not holding what’s ours. It thrums in my veins like a live wire, and I know I’m not the only one feeling it.
We move as one, heading down the hall toward her bedroom. The door is cracked open, and as I step closer, I hear soft music playing inside.
West nudges the door open first.
And there she is.
Ashlyn is curled up on her bed, her laptop resting on her thighs, her fingers poised over the keys. She’s lost in whatever she’s working on, unaware of the fact that everything she’s been missing is standing in her doorway.
For a second, none of us move.
Then, like she senses us, her head lifts, and her eyes meet mine.
She freezes.
Her lips part.
Her scent, sweet and warm like strawberries and cream, blooms into the air.
