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"I travel light." I look around the apartment one last time. "I don't think I'll miss it."

"You can always get your own place later," he offers. "When things calm down. If you want space?—"

"I don't want space," I admit. "I'm tired of being alone. Tired of being scared. I just want..."

"What?"

"Safe. I want to feel safe."

"I can give you that," he promises.

Back at the clubhouse, he helps me carry everything to his room.

I've never been in the personal quarters before—this was always off-limits when I was growing up.

His room is simple.

Bed, dresser, small bathroom.

But it's clean, and it smells like him, and there's something comforting about the sparse masculinity of it.

"I'll clear out some drawers," he says, setting down my bags. "Make room in the closet. Whatever you need."

"Regnor."

"There's probably rules about having you here," he continues, not looking at me. "Runes will want to talk protocols.And your dad—fuck, your dad's going to make my life hell. But it's worth it. You're worth it."

"Regnor."

"What?"

I cross to him, place my hand on his chest, and feel his heart racing under my palm. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Everything. Today. The past two weeks. Keeping our secret. All of it."

"You don't have to thank me?—"

I rise up on my toes and kiss him.

Soft at first, then deeper when he groans and pulls me closer.

It's different from the parking lot.

Less desperate, more intentional.

A choice instead of a reaction.

When we break apart, his eyes are dark. "Everly?—"

"I'm tired of pretending," I whisper. "Tired of lying to everyone. Well, except about..." I touch my stomach. "But the rest? I want it to be real."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying I want this to be real. You and me. Not just for the baby, not just for protection. Because Iwantyou."

"You're emotional," he says carefully. "Today's been a lot?—"