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"I love you," I said clearly, meeting his eyes despite the tears blurring my vision. "I love you. Even though you're bossy and overprotective and—oh god, right there—"

"Even though you're a brat who sends dirty pictures during church," he countered, but his voice was fond, warm, everything I'd never dared hope for.

I wanted to laugh at that, but the angle he'd found made coherent thought impossible. Everything was building,tightening, climbing toward a peak that felt bigger than any physical release. This was my heart cracking open, my soul baring itself, my entire existence reshaping itself around this moment.

"Close," I gasped, nails digging into his hands where they still pinned mine. "So close—"

"I know." He pressed his forehead to mine, breath mingling with mine. "Let go, baby. I've got you. Always going to have you."

The promise broke the last of my control. I shattered with his name on my lips and love in my heart, pleasure and emotion creating a feedback loop that seemed to go on forever. I felt him follow me over, my name a reverent prayer as he buried himself deep and gave me everything.

We collapsed together, sweat-slick and breathing hard, but neither of us let go. His weight pressed me into the mattress in the best way, grounding me as the aftershocks rolled through us both. I could feel his heart hammering against my chest, matching the wild rhythm of my own.

"Did we just—" I started when I could form words again.

"Confess our love while fucking? Yeah." He lifted his head to look at me, and the vulnerability in his eyes made my chest tight. "Too much?"

"Perfect," I corrected, pulling him down for a softer kiss. "Absolutely perfect."

We stayed like that for long minutes, our bodies still joined, hearts still racing in tandem. The late afternoon light painted golden stripes across the bed, across our tangled limbs, making everything feel soft-edged and dream-like. I traced lazy patterns on Tyson's back, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing gradually slow against my chest. Love. We'd said love. The word kept echoing in my head like a bell that wouldn't stop ringing.

"So," I said eventually, when the silence had stretched long enough to feel like something we should address. "We're in love."

"Appears so." He pressed a kiss to my hair, the gesture so tender it made my chest ache in the best way. "That gonna be a problem?"

The question was light, teasing, but I heard the real concern underneath. Because it was a problem, wasn't it? Love was messy and complicated and definitely not something that fit neatly into our careful arrangement of secret meetings and stolen moments.

"Probably," I admitted, fingers finding a new scar to explore—this one a thin line along his ribs. "Duke's still gonna kill you when he finds out. Maybe literally."

"Let me worry about Duke." His arms tightened around me, protective even in this quiet moment. "I've handled worse than an overprotective club president."

"Have you, though?" I lifted my head to look at him, finding his face relaxed in a way I rarely saw. "Because Duke's got that whole quiet intensity thing that makes me think he knows exactly where to hide bodies."

"I've got my own spots," he said, completely deadpan, making me laugh despite the seriousness of what we were discussing.

"That's not as reassuring as you think it is." I settled back against his chest, ear pressed to the steady thump of his heartbeat. "And then there's the bachelor party. Hours of pretending we're nothing to each other while everyone else gets to be openly together. Watching you from across a boat, not being able to touch . . ."

"We've managed so far."

"That was before," I pointed out. "Before I knew what it felt like to have you look at me like I hung the moon. Before you said—" My voice caught on the words, still too new and precious to speak casually. "It's going to be torture."

"Then we'll be tortured together." He shifted us carefully, settling me more comfortably against his side as our bodies finally separated. The loss made me whimper, but he soothed it with gentle touches, keeping me close. "Four hours of pretending is worth a lifetime of the real thing."

"A lifetime?" The word came out small, hopeful.

"What did you think this was?" His fingers found my chin, tilting my face up to meet his serious gaze. "Some temporary arrangement? A phase we'd grow out of?"

"I didn't know what to think." Honesty felt safe here, wrapped in his arms with love still warm between us. "You're this whole tactical badass with your life together, and I'm just... me. Chaotic tattoo artist with authority issues and a stuffed tortoise named Shelly."

"You're not 'just' anything." The firmness in his voice made me shiver. "You're brave and talented and fiercely loyal. You see people, really see them, and make them feel worthy of being seen. You submit to me not because you're weak but because you're strong enough to trust. You're everything, Lena. Everything I never knew I needed."

Tears pricked my eyes again, and I blinked them back. "You can't just say things like that when I'm already emotionally compromised."

"Sure I can." He smiled, that rare full smile that transformed his face. "Privilege of being in love. I can say whatever sappy shit I want and you have to deal with it."

"Oh, is that how it works?" I tried for indignant but probably just looked besotted. "And what about Cruz? Pretty sure he's not going to respect the sacred privilege of sappy love confessions."

The mention of Cruz shifted something in Tyson's expression, protective instincts surging to the surface. "I told you not to worry about him."