“Promise.” She leans forward to kiss me again, and this time, there's nothing tentative about it. It's the kiss of a woman who knows exactly what she wants and isn't afraid to claim it.
When we break apart, we're both breathing harder, and I'm reminded of all the reasons I fell for her in the first place. Her strength, her loyalty, the way she makes everything in my life better just by being part of it.
“I should probably call my family,” I say reluctantly. “They're going to lose their minds when they find out I'm in the hospital.”
“Already done. I called Nina while you were in surgery.” Stella's cheeks flush slightly. “She had a lot of questions about who I was and why I was calling, so I just said I was your neighbor and close friend. Emergency contact. That seemed to satisfy her enough to keep her from booking the next flight to LAX.”
“Oh, no.” I groan, though I'm smiling. “Stella, you have no idea what you've just done. My family has been waiting for this moment for years.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, they've given up hope that I'll ever settle down. And now, suddenly, there's someone calling about me from a hospital?” I shake my head. “I hope you're ready for the backlash.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, they're going to want to meet you immediately.”
Her eyes widen slightly. “Meet me?”
“You know, we do this big Fourth of July thing every year at my parents' place in the Hamptons. You should come with me.” The words come out before I've really thought them through, but the moment I say them, I know I mean it. “I mean, if you want to.It's pretty overwhelming. My whole family descends, and it gets loud and chaotic.”
“You've never brought anyone home,” she says quietly, and it's not a question.
“No. Never had anyone I wanted them to meet.” I pause, studying her face. “But I want them to know you. I want you to be part of that.”
She's quiet for a moment, and I can see her processing what this means. Then she reaches up to touch my cheek, and her thumb traces my jawline.
“I'd love to meet your family,” she says softly. “On one condition. You have to be my plus-one for the charity gala my mom already tried to invite you to.”
“Deal.” I catch her hand and press it against my cheek. “Now, crawl up in here with me so I can kiss you.”
thirty-six
. . .
Stella
Two days later,Brandon is finally cleared to go home. His arm is in a proper cast now, bright blue because, apparently, he has the sense of humor of a twelve-year-old, and the concussion symptoms have mostly faded. The doctor's only instruction was to rest and take it easy.
The elevator in our building is occupied when the doors open, and Mason is standing there with a tennis racket bag slung over his shoulder, looking like he just came from the courts. My stomach does a little flip, not from attraction but from the awkwardness of running into him with Brandon right beside me.
“Stella! Brandon!” Mason's face lights up with genuine warmth. “How are you feeling, man? I heard about the accident.”
“Much better, thanks,” Brandon says, lifting his cast slightly. “Just have to take it easy for a while.”
“That's good to hear.” Mason turns to me with that easy smile I used to find so appealing. “Actually, Stella, I was going to text you again. I wanted to see if maybe you were free to meet up at the club this weekend? I'd love to get some pointers on my game. We could grab dinner after.”
I feel Brandon's hand find mine, a simple gesture of support that doesn't try to control the situation. When I look at him, there's no jealousy or insecurity in his expression, just quiet confidence in us. It makes my response feel easy and honest.
“That's really sweet of you to offer,” I say, turning back to Mason, “but Brandon and I are actually dating now.”
“Oh!” Mason's eyebrows shoot up in surprise before his expression shifts to genuine happiness. “That's awesome. Congratulations, you two. I have to say, I'm not totally shocked. There always seemed to be something between you guys.”
“We're pretty happy about it,” Brandon says simply, his thumb brushing across my knuckles.
“Well, I'm really happy for you both,” Mason says as the elevator reaches our floor. “Take care of that arm.”
As we go our separate ways, I lean into Brandon's side, feeling lighter than I have in months.
