She cries out my name, her fingers digging deeper into my skin with each rock of my hips.
“You’re mine, little mouse. Say it.”
“I’m yours.”
“And I’m yours.” I crash into her until the storm within her starts to consume me too. She screams as another orgasm crashes over her.
“Fuuuuck, Georgia!” My shoulders bunch up, my abs flexing as my strokes become wild and frenzied. Her grip grows bruising as I thrust once more, my cock pulsing inside her.
I capture her mouth in a tender kiss, then deepen it. Her body trembles even as she tries to catch her breath. I roll off her, tucking her against my heaving chest and kissing her temple.
“How did you find me?” I ask after a few minutes, tracing idle patterns along her hip with my thumb. “I never even told you my last name.”
She props herself on one elbow, smiling down at me like she’s been waiting for that question.
“Occupational hazard,” she says. “Being a good assistant means knowing how to dig. And how to verify.” She shrugs. “I pieced together every bit of information you’ve ever mentioned. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.”
I huff a quiet laugh. Of course it was.
“You once mentioned your brother, Stevie, and what he did for a living, so I followed that thread first,” she says. “I tracked him down. Then I called in a favor with one of my friends who works in publicity. She’s done campaigns with his team before. She confirmed the connection.” She shrugs, like she didn’t just dismantle every wall I thought I’d built. “Once I had that, it wasn’t hard to get the rest. Background check…” she pauses. “I found out about your parents, about the crash. And how you, Stevie, and Liam had to grow up in foster care. I am so sorry, Zane, sorry for all that you’ve been through.” A tear falls to her cheek, and I reach up and wipe it away before urging her to continue, eager to learn more about the little cat and mouse hunt she went on to find me. If I didn’t love her already…
“Anyways,” she says with a sniffle, “after that it was pretty easy to get your address. Harbor House came up pretty quickly.”
I stare up at the ceiling for a moment, processing it all.
“You used industry connections,” I say.
“I leveraged them,” she corrects lightly. “Working for someone as influential as Mick means you learn how to move quietly and efficiently. And when I want something?” Her gaze sharpens. “I go after it.”
I look back at her, something warm and heavy blooming in my chest.
“I’m impressed,” I admit. “And grateful. That you thought I was worth all that effort.”
She goes still, then sits up fully, straddling my hips, looking down at me like she wants me to really hear her.
“You fixed my apartment,” she says softly. “You watched over me. You learned my routines, my habits, my fears…after one letter. One.” Her hand presses flat to my chest, right over my heart. “So yeah,” she says. “I went the extra mile. That’s what you do when you love someone.”
The words hit me hard.
I swallow.
“I loved you the moment I read that letter,” I say quietly. “Didn’t even know your face yet. Just your voice on the page. I’ve only fallen harder since.”
Her expression softens in a way that feels like absolution, like belonging.
She leans down, presses her forehead to mine, and for the first time in a long time, I don’t feel like I’m bracing for loss.
I feel like I’m home.
Epilogue
Georgia
Two years later
It’s Valentine’s Day.
Two years later, Zane and I are still going strong. We keep choosing each other. Day after day.
