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The confession knocks the air out of me. I pull back to see him clearly, my eyes widening.

I’ve never heard him like this. Not this open. Not this unfiltered.

“You’re…” I start, then stop, searching for the right word.

“Jealous?” he offers, a hushed, almost self-aware laugh leaving him. “Yeah. I am.”

Ho hesitation. No deflection. Just truth.

“I was going to say possessive,” I counter, reminding him of the word he’s always used.

A smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth before he drags me back against him, our bodies aligning completely.

“Jealous, Thalia,” he corrects, certain. “I’m jealous. And I don’t want anyone looking at you the way only I should.”

Good thing he’s holding me this tight, because I’m not convinced my knees would cooperate otherwise.

I still can’t fully process it—the fact that Ethan Hardy is standing here, that earlier tonight he asked for exclusivity, and now he’s admitting this… this need to keep me for himself.

He catches the shock on my face and chuckles before kissing me again, different this time. Deeper.

“You’re the only man who’s ever touched me,” I whisper between kisses.

“Thank fuck,” he exhales, the relief in his voice raw, instinctive.

“Ethan, I’ve told you before. More than once,” I admonish him.

“I know,” he murmurs. “But you can remind me again. From time to time.”

I don’t get to answer, he captures my mouth again, pouring everything into it—passion, desire, hunger, surrender.

And I still can’t convince myself this is real. That this is actually happening.

THIRTY-EIGHT

Ethan

I wake up and immediately sense a difference, but it takes me a few moments to understand what—Thalia.

She fell asleep here last night, and now she’s lying with her head on my chest, her legs tangled between mine, one hand resting on my abdomen, while one of mine is wrapped around her, holding her closer without thought, instinct taking over where my mind never would have allowed it.

What shocks me even more is the complete absence of discomfort—physical or otherwise. There’s nothing awkward, nothing out of place, nothing that urges me to put distance between us.

The realization settles into me all at once, abrupt and unfiltered—this is the first time I’ve ever spent the night like this with a woman. The first time that after sex, we fall asleep in the same bed. The first time I wake up next to someone.

Letting that sink in, I ease my head back into the pillow and breathe out silently.

The subtle move stirs her awake. Thalia blinks, still caught between sleep and reality, then her eyes widen abruptly when she registers me beside her.

The reaction makes me laugh. She looks genuinely alarmed.

“Jesus, you look like you forgot you spent the night with me,” I say, amused.

“Ethan…” she murmurs, then trails off.

“Yes, that’s my name,” I reply.

She snatches the sheet in a hurry, wrapping it around herself as she edges away from me like she’s seconds from bolting out of the bed altogether.