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Her eyes shine, but her voice doesn't shake. “My life changed the day I walked into this apartment. It changed when Tilly wrapped her tiny hand around my finger for the first time. It changed every morning I woke up and heard you talking to her in the kitchen, already up before the sunrise. It changed when this place stopped feeling temporary and started feeling like somewhere I belonged.” She glances toward the nursery door, then back at me. “My life is here with you and Tilly.”

Something in my chest gives. “I don't want you trapped here because things got hard and you’re feeling sorry for us.”

“I'm not trapped.” Peyton reaches for my hand and presses it against her chest, right over her heart. “I'm choosing this. You. Her. The messy, scary, uncertain version of us.”

I can't speak, so she continues. “We'll figure out the legal parts, just like schedules and work and money and everything else. Tonight, we just need to make sure Tilly is safe, Chase isn't blaming himself too much, and you get some sleep before you collapse.”

A broken laugh leaves me. “That simple?”

“No. Not even close. But it starts there.”

The weight of the day crashes down on me then, leaving my limbs heavy and my head spinning with exhaustion. Peyton notices.

“You need sleep,” she says.

I reach for her hand and squeeze it. “Let's get to bed then.”

She lets me guide her down the hallway toward the main bedroom. Every step reminds me that half the fixtures in this place are gone because I trusted the wrong person. The anger that flashes through me isn't the explosive kind. It's dull, taking a seat somewhere deep inside me. At the same time, Peyton's hand in mine feels steady, grounding me in a way nothing else has tonight.

I pull back the covers and gesture for her to climb in. Peyton slides beneath them, exhaustion clear in the way her shoulders fall. I sit beside her, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

Seeing her lying in my bed tightens something in my chest, completely different from the panic that dominated earlier. Peyton looks exhausted, but she still came when I needed her. That realization hits harder than anything else that's happened tonight. I've always thought of myself as the one holding everyone together, especially when everything falls apart. Tonight made it clear I need someone doing the same for me, and Peyton never once made me feel weak for it.

“Are you going to sit there watching me sleep?” she murmurs, her eyes half-closed.

“Maybe.”

“That's creepy,” she says and reaches for me without opening her lids. “Come here, handsome.”

I switch off the lamp and climb in beside her. We lie facing each other in the dark, close enough to feel the warmth of each other.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

“For what?”

“For coming back.”

Her fingers curl around mine. “I was never really gone.”

Squeezing her hand, I let those words settle between us. Tomorrow will bring questions, paperwork, phone calls and more complications than I can count. Tonight, though, there's nothing left to do except stay here with the people I care about most.

33

PEYTON

The smell of banana pancakes fills the kitchen the next morning. Ollie insisted on cooking even though he barely slept. I sit at the table watching him, a tea mug warming my hands. Sunlight catches in his hair as he turns toward the stove, making him look golden. Once again I find myself admiring the man who has become a huge part of my life in such a short time. It still surprises me how easily he’s slipped into my heart. Not with grand gestures, but in small moments like this.

Chase is out on a motorcycle ride with Jax, who picked him up earlier to try to cheer him up. Tilly finally fell asleep for her first nap of the day about twenty minutes ago. Ollie checked on her twice before we even started on our late breakfast, leaning against the nursery doorway like he couldn’t make himself walk away.

“You’re staring again,” Ollie says without turning around. Taking care of Tilly has brought him superpowers only parents have like eyes on the back of his head.

“I’m observing,” I tell him.

He glances over his shoulder at me. “Same thing, Miss California.”

“Not really. I was just thinking how lucky I am that you’re mine.”

A smile slowly spreads across his gorgeous face, before he turns and slides the last pancake onto a plate. Bringing the food over, he sits across from me, dragging a hand through his hair.