From there, neither of them could stop, after too many years of yearning.
Every touch mattered.
Every moment counted.
He took her quietly, slowly, softly.
It was beautiful, and afterward, Belle lay there tangled in his sheets, warm and sated and…yeah, happy.
So ridiculously, overwhelmingly happy.
They were floating in a bubble. In a perfect, fragile state where nothing outside mattered. Not Pip’s curiosity or Vivian’s reaction or the questions neither of them seemed ready to ask just yet.
Regardless of the uncertainty, Belle couldn’t make herself chase more. For some reason, she didn’t feel like she was waiting for her real life to start.
Because this was it. She was living it.
Drifting through her days on laughter, stolen kisses, shared meals, and quiet moments that meant everything.
Maybe the bubble would burst eventually.
There was no denying reality was definitely going to come knocking at some point, but for now?
Belle pressed a kiss against Victor’s shoulder, sinking into his embrace as he tightened his arm around her, both of them desperately stealing just one more minute.
For now…she was exactly where she wanted to be.
And she wasn’t letting go.
CHAPTER NINE
Victor relaxedin his chair at Pat’s Pub, took another sip of beer, and let the conversation continue around him without hopping in.
It had been nearly a month.
Twenty-eight days, if Victor was being exact about it.
Twenty-eight of the happiest days of his whole damn life.
It was safe to say, the time he’d spent with Belle had been almost perfect.
But onlyalmost.
Because hovering in the background was the knowledge that they’d left way too fucking much unsaid.
Twenty-eight days of not talking about what was going on between them.
Twenty-eight days of pretending they didn’t need to.
Victor leaned his forearms on the wooden table, staring down into the near-black swirl of his Guinness like it might offer answers. It didn’t.
Still, he watched the foam slowly dissolve, waiting for the fucking universe to give him some goddamn sign about what he should do next.
“Jesus, you look like someone just told you hockey got canceled,” Tank said, bumping his shoulder against Victor’s.
He growled. “Don’t joke about that. It could happen. You remember the fucking pandemic.”
Tank snorted unapologetically. “Then stop looking like your dog just died.”
