"I never let myself dream about it," he said. "Seemed like torture, wanting something I couldn't have."
"You have me now."
"Do I?" There was something vulnerable in his voice. "Or is this just tonight?"
“You do," I said honestly. “But I don't know how this fits with everything else. With LA, with the ranch, with our separate lives. But I know this is real. This matters."
He kissed me then, soft and deep, and we stopped talking, let our bodies say what words couldn't.
Somewhere around four AM, we finally collapsed into exhausted sleep. But even unconscious, we reached for each other. I'd wake to find his hand seeking mine, or my leg hooking over his, or our bodies naturally curving together like spoons containing something precious.
Each time one of us shifted, the other followed, maintaining contact even in sleep. Once, I woke to find him pressing kisses to my shoulder, still mostly asleep, murmuring something that might have been my name. Another time, I surfaced to find myself wrapped around him like a koala, and instead of moving away, I pressed closer, felt him pull me tighter even in dreams.
Dawn was creeping gray through the windows when we finally truly slept, completely spent. The storm had passed, leaving only gentle rain pattering on the roof. I lay across his chest, our bodies still humming from the night's activities, every muscle pleasantly sore, every nerve ending satisfied.
"That was..." I started, then lost words.
"Yeah," he agreed, pressing a kiss to my hair. "It was."
My body felt new. Not just satisfied but renewed, like every touch had been healing something broken, like pleasure had been medicine for wounds I didn't know how to name. I felt claimed—not possessed but claimed by my own desire, by my choice to take what I wanted.
"We should probably talk about what this means," I said, though I could barely keep my eyes open.
"Tomorrow. Today. Later. Not now."
"Not now," I agreed, already feeling sleep pulling at me.
I curled into him, my ear over his heart, listening to it gradually slow. His fingers traced lazy patterns on my back—circles, figure-eights, maybe words I couldn't decipher.
"Steph?" he whispered, probably thinking I was already asleep.
"Mm?"
"I love you."
The words were soft, almost lost in the sound of rain. In my exhausted, satiated state, I processed them hazily and smiled to myself.
“I love you too," I mumbled into his chest, already falling into sleep.
I felt his arms tighten around me. If he said anything else, I didn't hear it. Sleep took me under, deep and dreamless, my body humming with satisfaction, my heart full of something I wasn’t sure would fit in the life I’d made for myself.
Chapter 14
Liam
I woke to sunlight streaming through the windows and the weight of Stephy draped across me like she'd been trying to crawl inside my skin while we slept.
Her hair was everywhere—across my chest, tangled in my fingers, probably in my mouth. One of her legs was thrown over both of mine, her arm across my stomach, her face pressed into my neck. She was completely unconscious, breathing deep and even, occasionally making these little sounds that weren't quite snores but weren't quite not snores either.
I'd never been happier in my entire life.
The storm had passed, leaving that crystal-clear morning that only comes after nature's violence has washed the world clean. Birds were singing like they'd just discovered sound. The air coming through the cracked window smelled like wet earth and new growth and possibilities.
She stirred against me, making that waking-up sound that was half groan, half purr. Her hand flexed on my stomach,fingers spreading like she was testing I was still there, still solid, still real.
"Morning," I said softly.
"No," she mumbled into my neck. "Not morning. Still night. Still sleeping."
