I lift my hand up, shaking my head with my eyes shut. “I’m not really going to throw up, but my stomach is a mess of butterflies.”
“You’re fine, Mads. You’ve done this a hundred times.”
“This is not the same,” I say with a nervous laugh. “This is the biggest line Cove’s ever launched. This is press. This is cameras. This is?—”
“The thing you were hired for,” he finishes gently. “The thing you’re very good at.”
I swallow. “It’s still terrifying.”
He leans in, his voice low, just for me. “So was the first time you pitched anything. And you crushed that too.”
He reaches out and takes my jaw in his hands. “And you look beautiful. I love it when you wear the brand.” He kisses my cheek. “You look good enough to eat.”
Before I can respond, Ford clears his throat like he’s aboutto address the United Nations. He stands at the edge of the stage with Landyn at his side, her hand resting lightly against his arm, steadying him in a way that makes my chest ache with fondness.
“No pressure,” Noah mutters from behind us, adjusting his cufflinks. “Just don’t embarrass us.”
Wes snorts. “Says the man who once pitched a product using the phrase ‘vibes-forward masculinity.’”
“That was based on market research,” Noah shoots back.
“I will push both of you off the stage if you don’t shut up,” Jesse says without looking at them. I laugh despite myself. The tension in my shoulders eases just a fraction. Landyn turns and catches my eye, giving me an encouraging smile like she knows exactly how close I am to bolting.
You’ve got this, she mouths at me.
I nod, grateful.
This is it. The lights shift, the room quiets, someone taps the mic, and suddenly it’s happening. Ford steps forward, confident and composed. He talks about Cove’s evolution, about intention and integrity and growth. After a few minutes, Jesse takes over seamlessly, his voice steady, warm, and magnetic. When it’s my turn, my heart tries to escape through my ribs. Jesse’s hand finds the small of my back, grounding me without making a show of it.
I step up. The words come. I don’t rush. I don’t stumble. I talk about design and sustainability and the why behind every choice we make at Cove.
When I finish, the room breaks into applause, and I exhale for what feels like the first time all day.
Jesse turns to me then, eyes bright, pride unmistakable. “See?” he murmurs. “You killed it. Told you.”
I laugh, breathless. “You were right. It wasn’t so bad.”
Behind us, Wes claps me on the shoulder. “That was incredible.”
Noah nods. “Yeah. You kind of killed it.”
Ford meets my gaze, serious and sincere. “We’re lucky to have you.”
The weight of that settles in my chest as the press swarms and the brothers split off into different conversations. Jesse stays with me, fingers laced through mine. I look up at him, this man who somehow makes the scariest moments feel survivable.
“What are you in the mood for after this?” he asks, his thumb brushing over my knuckles.
“I wouldn’t mind spending the next twenty-four hours locked away in your house with you.”
“What about forever?”
“Even better,” I say with a grin, but it fades when I realize he’s looking at me with a serious expression.
“Mads, I want you to move in with me,” he says gently.
My jaw drops.
“You belong with me. You’re there every night anyway. At this point, your condo is just a really fancy storage unit.”
