Page 27

LUNA

I blinked my eyes open, taking in the tall ceiling and the skylight. I was in Ash’s arms, and it felt right. The spot where Connor had been was empty.

“Good morning, Luna,” Ash said from behind me. I turned around in his arms, laying my head on his bicep.

“Good morning. Why can’t I stay awake when we watch TV?”

I felt his chuckle rumble through his chest.

“You’re still healing. That takes energy.”

I hesitated. “I, uh... I can feel you.”

“Healthy biological response,” he said, unfazed. “Especially when you’re curled up in my arms.”

He kissed my forehead like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“I want to help,” I whispered. “I want to touch you.”

His breath hitched. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he muttered, eyes warm and full of fire. “And I’ll go smiling.”

I laughed, feeling powerful for the first time in forever. I explored his chest, the complex curves of his arms. His control trembled—but he didn’t move.

When I cupped his cheek, he looked at me like I was everything he’d ever waited for.

In a blur, he was over me, not quite touching, lips hovering close enough to steal the air from my lungs. I leaned in and kissed him. Gently at first. Then deeper. He groaned, low and rough, and returned the kiss like a man starved.

My whole body responded—heat curling low in my belly, a rhythm pounding in my chest. He paused only to ask, “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” I breathed.

He kissed me again, and everything else disappeared. We tangled together in a haze of heat, trust, and breathless wonder. Hands explored, sighs escaped, and I felt myself unravel in the safety of his arms.

Later, tucked against him, heartbeat steadying, I whispered, “I liked that.”

He smiled into my hair. “Me too, Luna. Me too.”

I stepped into the shower downstairs, letting the water wash over me. Something in my chest felt looser, like a band had been cut free.

This morning’s closeness still shimmered across my skin. Not just the heat of it, but the way Ash had looked at me—like I was precious, not fragile. Like I was wanted. Safe.

We hadn’t gone all the way, but something in me had shifted. I’d let him see me. Touch me. And I hadn’t broken. I felt... claimed, in a way that had nothing to do with marks or bonds. Just trust.

By the time I stepped out, dried my hair, and put on makeup, I felt almost myself. The white silk shirt hugged my shoulders perfectly, and the black pants were sharp and tailored. My heeled boots clicked softly against the floor as I walked out of the room.

Ash and Connor were in the kitchen, mid-laugh. Something inside me settled at the sound. They looked up, and Connor gave a low whistle.

“Ah, jeez. I thought you were hot before,” he said, eyes playful.

Ash crossed the room and pulled me in, pressing a kiss to my lips. “You look incredible.”

The kiss lingered just long enough to leave me dazed. I blinked, breathless, and caught Connor smirking as he handed me a mug.

“Splash of milk, right?”

I nodded. “Thanks.”

“We didn’t have time to cook,” Ash said. “Protein bar?”

“Sure.” I took it, warmth blooming in my chest. This felt domestic. Soft. Normal.

They dropped me off at the real estate agent’s office just before nine. It was a temporary assignment with no fixed end date, but the rhythm of it had started to feel familiar. Safe, even.

“Thanks for the ride,” I said, hovering with my hand on the door handle, not sure if I should lean over and kiss Ash goodbye. Would that be too much? Too soon?

Ash might’ve read the hesitation in my eyes. He leaned across and brushed a kiss against my cheek, lingering just enough to make my stomach flutter. “We’ll see you here at four, OK?”

His eyes were warm, steady. Like this wasn’t just a ride—it was a promise. I nodded. “Have a great day.”

“You too,” he replied, and I stepped out, clutching my bag with more awareness than I meant to.

The crisp morning air bit at my cheeks as I walked toward the office, boots tapping against the pavement. The town was quiet at this hour, with just a few shopfronts opening. The florist, with its bright bouquets in the window, was already a riot of colour.

Inside the real estate office, the fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead. I shrugged off my coat and caught sight of Maureen at the kitchenette, pouring herself a coffee. She looked up as I walked in.

“How are you?” she asked, her tone clipped but not unkind.

“Better.” I offered a polite smile. “Thank you so much for the time off.”

Maureen stirred her coffee, eyeing me over the rim of the mug like she was weighing my answer. “What happened?”

I took a breath. “I was running in the forest behind my house and fell hard. Bruised my ribs something bad.” Maddie and I had rehearsed the story. Technically true. Just not the whole truth.

She didn’t comment right away; she just watched me for a beat longer than I was comfortable. Then she said simply, “You shouldn’t go into the forest alone.”

Her words weren’t laced with concern—they carried more the weight of local wisdom. The kind passed down in quiet warnings and half-believed folklore.

“No, I guess not,” I murmured, tucking my bag beneath the reception desk and powering up the computer.

Maureen nodded once, already shifting into work mode. She walked past me toward her office, calling over her shoulder, “We’ve got three property inquiries from yesterday. Start with the emails. And if the Fergusons call again, tell them I haven’t forgotten.”

“Yes, Maureen.” I slid into the chair, fingers settling on the keyboard. The screen blinked to life.

Behind the hum of the machine and the click of my mouse, my mind drifted—briefly—to Ash’s kiss, to the heat in his eyes, to the way his hand had brushed against mine when I climbed into the car.

Something in me still thrummed. Still burned low and quiet.

But for now, I had work to do. And secrets to keep.

The guys were out front at exactly four, punctual as ever. Connor had the window rolled down and leaned out with a grin.

“Hey there, pretty lady, would you like a ride?”

I laughed softly, shaking my head. “That sounds so dodgy,” I replied, but my smile gave me away.

My eyes found Ash, who stood leaning against the side of the car. When he turned toward me, his grin was slower, softer, and something warm curled in my chest. I walked toward them, heart thudding for reasons I wasn’t quite ready to name.

“Could we stop by my place?” I asked as I slid into the car. My tone was light, but something about the way their glances met—brief, unreadable—told me they were alert beneath their usual calm.

“Of course,” Ash said, voice steady.

When we reached the house, I paused on the front step.

The key felt heavy in my hand as I unlocked the door.

Inside, everything was as I’d left it—but the air felt hollow.

Like a space I used to belong to. The faint scent of lavender cleaning spray still lingered, and the throw on the couch sat neatly folded, untouched.

All of it was too neat. Too impersonal. I hadn’t realized until now how much I’d already distanced myself.

Ash and Connor followed me in, moving more easily than last time, though still carefully. They seemed to sense the change, too.

“I think it’s time I pack up the rest of my things,” I said aloud, like I needed to hear the words out in the open. “Let go of the lease. Bring my car.” I hesitated, then added, “I can contribute to the house costs with the money I’ll save.”

They both went still.

I was moving too fast.

“Are you sure?” Ash asked, voice quieter now. His gaze searched mine, like he wanted to believe it but wasn’t sure if I genuinely did.

“Yes.” I nodded, firm. Maybe a little too much. The habit of trying to prove I could be decisive.

Ash took a breath. “This is me explicitly asking you. Are you ready to give up your place? Be with us?”

The room seemed to pause around us.

I crossed the space between us and placed my hands on his chest. The beat of his heart beneath my fingers steadied me. I looked up into his eyes. “Yes,” I said again—this time not just as an answer, but as a choice.

He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close, and held me in a way that said he believed me now. Maybe he needed to have me just as much as I needed the holding.

Packing didn’t take long. There wasn’t much left—some books, my favourite kitchen knife, a few clothes I hadn’t worn in weeks.

Everything else was already sorted, donated, or boxed in a corner.

The house was spotless, every drawer wiped out, every room reset.

I’d always kept it that way. Ready to go. It was how I survived back then.

Connor insisted on driving my car, citing an issue with the alignment pulling to the left, so I rode with Ash. As we drove, my home—no, that house—shrank behind us in the rearview mirror, and I didn’t feel panicked. Just… untethered.

They carried my things in without fuss, placing them neatly in my room. Well. I supposed it would still technically be mine, but I hadn’t slept alone since that first night, and truthfully? I didn’t want to.

They showed me the wardrobe, the drawers, and the space in the side tables. They encouraged me to settle in and use what I liked. They took a quiet pride in giving me space.

Then they left me to it, saying they’d get dinner started.

I unpacked slowly, folding clothes into drawers.

I slid my books onto the shelf, a few already looking worn from reading them on loop during long nights.

I tucked a photo of my friend Jessica into the top drawer.

I wasn’t sure how she was going to react to my news. But that was a problem for another day.

Dinner was simple and warm—grilled chicken, salad, and roasted potatoes. We ate, cleaned up together in the easy rhythm we were slowly learning, and then curled up in Ash’s room for our show. The lamp cast a soft amber glow as the credits rolled. There were only a couple of episodes left.

I lasted through one, drifting by the end, my head resting against Ash’s chest, his hand idly tracing my arm. I didn’t need to speak. I was already home.