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“A year after we met? That’s—”

“Embarrassing? Stalkerish?” She hides her face against my shoulder.

“Endearing,” I correct, tilting her chin up. “And flattering. I had no idea I made such an impression.”

“You’ve always made an impression, Lucas.” Her voice softens. “Even when you were trying so hard to be the perfect corporate heir.”

I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, letting my fingers linger against her cheek. “Did you know your apartment is exactly how I imagined it would be? Organized chaos. Brilliantly you.”

“Even my slightly overcooked pasta?” Her smile is teasing, but her eyes are serious as if my answer genuinely matters.

“Especially that.” I kiss her temple, breathing in the scent of her shampoo mixed with wine and the lingering aroma of pasta sauce. “Though maybe I help with dinner next time? In the interest of kitchen safety?”

She pokes my ribs but doesn’t argue. “Stay tonight?”

The simple question holds so much trust and certainty about us. About our future.

“Yes.” I pull her closer, overwhelmed by how right this feels. “Though I should warn you—I’ve seen your organizational system for pajamas. It’s slightly concerning.”

“Hey!” She sits up, indignation written across her features. “Color-coding sleepwear is perfectly reasonable. There’s a whole methodology behind it. Weekend pajamas versus weeknight pajamas versus special occasion pajamas...”

“Of course there is.” I can’t help but smile at her earnest defense. It’s completely Emma, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Are you making fun of me, CEO Walker?” she asks, but there’s no heat in it.

“Never.” I pull her back against me. “Just falling deeper in love with every ridiculous detail.”

She settles against my chest, and I breathe in the scent of her—familiar and new all at once. This feeling of complete rightness washes over me. Her apartment, chaos, brilliant mind that sees connections nobody else does—this is home.

“I never thought I’d have this,” she admits softly. “Someone who sees all my quirks and stays anyway.”

“I’m not staying anyway,” I correct her gently. “I’m staying because of them. Because they’re you.”

Her eyes find mine in the dim light. “When did you know? That this was more than just...”

“Than just what?” I ask when she trails off.

“Than just the convenient option. Your marketing analyst with a crush.”

The vulnerability in her question catches me off guard. “Emma,” I say, framing her face with my hands. “There has never been anything convenient about how I feel about you. Fighting it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

As the night deepens around us, I find myself memorizing this moment—the weight of her against my chest, the simple perfection of being exactly where I’m meant to be.

With the one I’m meant to be with.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Emma

“The integration numbers look perfect,” I tell the team gathered in conference room B, focusing despite being wonderfully distracted by Lucas leaning against the wall behind me. It’s our first major update since implementing our custom interface, and the conference room is packed with developers, analysts, and even a few curious board members.

“The custom interface is processing data 30% faster than projected, and user satisfaction is—”

“Through the roof?” Lucas suggests, and I hear the smile in his voice that still makes my heart flip, even after these weeks together.

“I was going to say ‘exceeding expectations.’”

“You always do.”