“Yeah. But this is where my family is. This is where Edge told me I was mine. This is where Regan cried because I looked healed. This is where you asked.” I looked up at him. “So this is where tonight belongs.”
His eyes darkened.
“Destiny.”
I loved when he said my name like that.
Like he was careful with it now.
Like he knew names could be promises too.
I rose onto my toes and kissed him.
At first, it was soft. A kiss full of snow light and Christmas downstairs and the ache of everything we had survived to reach this room. His hands settled on my waist, warm through my sweater, steady but not demanding. Dylan always touched me like he remembered the cost of rushing. Like even now, engaged, wanted, forgiven as much as a man could be forgiven while still learning, he would wait for me to choose every next step.
So I chose.
I pushed his jacket from his shoulders.
He let it fall.
Then he caught my face in both hands and kissed me harder.
The room changed.
The quiet stayed, but something under it caught fire.
Not wildfire.
Not destruction.
Hearth fire.
The kind that warmed a house. The kind people gathered around. The kind that meant shelter instead of danger.
I pulled back only long enough to whisper, “Lock the door.”
His mouth twitched. “Afraid of Nate?”
“I’m afraid of everyone.”
“Fair.”
He turned the lock.
The click seemed to move through me.
When he came back, I was already pulling at the hem of my sweater. His eyes dropped, then lifted fast to mine, asking even now.
I smiled. “Dylan.”
That was all it took.
He crossed the room and helped me ease the sweater over my head, careful not to catch my ring in the knit. The gesture was so tender and so ridiculous that I laughed softly.
“What?” he asked.
“You’re being careful with the ring.”
