After texting Tessa back, I call down to room service for a burger, a slice of cherry pie, and a six-pack. My cell pings with an incoming call, and I know it’s from her. It’s nearly 9 p.m. here, which means it’s midnight in Michigan.

“Hey, my sweet Cherry. You’re bound to be exhausted, why aren’t you in bed?”

“Because Rhys is currently driving us to a twenty-four hour diner. Av’s hungry.”

I hear a huff come from her end, followed shortly by Av’s sweet voice. “She’s a liar—she was hungry first.”

More muffled sounds greet me, and one can only assume it’s my girl wrestling with a pregnant Tiger Lily to reclaim her phone.

“Sorry about her. Know how they say pregnant women are savages? It’s true.”

Some more antics go on between those two; I don’t know how Rhys can drive under such conditions. Figuring it’s worth a shot, I let out a high-pitched piercing whistle.

“Now, ladies, listen up: no more wrestling in a moving vehicle. Av, you’re carrying another life, stop it. Cherry, I sent you away to be protected, not get injured in a car wreck.”

I’m met with blissful silence. How had I forgotten about their bickering like teenagers?

“I’m sorry. You know how it goes—I say something to irk her, she gives it back. Believe it or not, I actually do miss you, Ace.” Hearing her loud exhale, I know she’s feeling as shitty as I am.

“If it makes you feel any better, I ordered dinner…for one, with a slice of cherry pie.”

“Can you hear me?” she whispers.

“Yes.”

“Good, because I didn’t want the cherry pie comment to slip by. I wanted to say you already had Cherry pie today.”

“Did I hear cherry pie?” Averill says in the background.

“What the…does she have supersonic hearing? I swear it was a low whisper on my end, sweetness. Either her hearing has improved, or she can actually zero in on food items in private conversations.”

“Want to make a bet with me about her due date, Ace? We could guess and whoever is closest wins…something.” Her melodic laughter makes me smile.

“Sure, I’m in.” Lowering my voice so only she can hear me, I continue, “Your Cherry pie is my favorite pie in the world. I can still taste you on my tongue and smell you on my fingers. My ears can still hear your moans. When you’re about to orgasm, you make this tiny high-pitched sound, like you want to come but your bliss is just out of reach. Mm.”

Her end is silent. She’s not saying a thing, but I can hear her labored breathing.

“That sound, Cherry? It’s mine.”

“It’s yours, Brant.” Her breathy whisper is all I need to affirm we’re exactly where we need to be. I love her, and before long, she’ll love me.

“They went inside to grab a table. I don’t want to be rude and stay out talking on the phone, so I should go. I’ll see you tomorrow evening, yes?”

“Count on it. One more thing, Cherry: I love you. Don’t say it back, I’m just putting it out there in the universe, letting it be known that I’m in love with Theresa ‘Tessa’ Annabelle. Sweet dreams, love.”

“Ace? It’s Theresa May. Don’t let the bedbugs bite, sweetheart.”

The sound of silence lets me know she’s hung up. Her words shocked me. She’s giving me more personal information; it’s such a great sign. Until this second, I never knew her middle name.

Theresa May Ashley—I like the sound of that.

* * *

Before my flight, I made a point to go see him this morning. I’m not holding meetings here at the hotel, and the lawyers have all gone home—minus one. I’m positive he’s never returning.

Today is a day off for me.

Oddly, I have nothing to do besides check in with Justin before I fly out. Once Tessa is completely safe, I’ll come back to finish what I’ve been working on for over two years.

Destroying Martinelli.

Blowing the lid on his organization in its entirety.

I’ve been dismantling it piece by piece.

Since Justin joined me here, he’s had me wear a bug each day, a different one for whatever occasion it may be. For today’s meeting, it’s on my sunglasses. How they’ve come this far in technology is beyond me, but I was warned if I broke these, the FBI wouldn’t look on it too kindly.

I’m sitting in a Starbucks a few blocks away from Martinelli’s house when Mick walks in. I have the shittiest luck. If I keep my head down, reading the magazine in front of me, maybe I’ll be blessed and he’ll grab his order and leave.

I’m not so lucky.

“Hey, Brant. Fancy meeting you here. Have a meeting with the boss?” he asks from where he’s standing, right next to my table.

“Yes, I have a meeting with my father—you know, my dear ol’ dad. He’s your boss, not officially mine.” In the links of the intricate Martinelli chain, I’m actually second in command. “Come to think of it, I’m your boss, too, since I’m the underboss and all. Huh, imagine that.”

If Cherry were here, this would be the part where she asked us to get out the ruler to see whose dick was biggest. She hates when I push buttons to make someone angry, but push buttons I do. It’s one of my favorite things to do with all of my father’s hired help. All they ever are is a bunch of rent-a-cops hopped up on steroids.

He grits his teeth and starts twisting his hands around his cup of coffee. He’s exactly where I want him: on edge, pissed but not too much, and ready to burst because I demeaned him. This is the perfect time to fuck with him.

While kicking out the chair across from me, I say, “Have a seat, if you like. We can talk about your last assignment.” The tone of my voice lets him know I mean now. Instead, he remains standing, and I won’t have it. “I said, sit.”

He looks around the café (Who is he looking for?) and after deeming it okay, he throws himself down in the chair.

“Uh, what the hell do you mean you’re my boss?”

“Since I’m the only living son, if Father ever decides to retire, it’s my business. Look, I know you’re new and all, but this is first day level shit. You should know who the underboss is. You should’ve also checked to make sure you weren’t hiding in plain sight when you were on the job at the zoo, but no, you and—Corbin, is it?” He nods. “You two were jabbering on like two old ladies instead of looking for me to come grab the assignment. Tsk, tsk, not a pleasant day on the job for you, was it?

“What’d he assign you to now, coffee runs? Did he demean you, demote you, or just plain yell at you until his face turned a lovely shade of reddish-purple, kinda like yours is doing now? You, uh, may wanna get it checked out. I’d be worried, if I were you—rage problems are no joke.”

Getting up from my seat, I finish by telling him what I’ve wanted to say since he said hello. “Stay the fuck away from Theresa. If I ever catch you in her presence again, I’ll cut off your balls and feed ’em to you for dinner.”

The ring of the bell on the door marks my exit.

* * *

Walking into Martinelli’s office, I’m instantly met with a new portrait. It’s not the one he had previously, but one including me. What the…? He’s sitting at his desk, watching me, and I make sure my expression doesn’t change. I don’t need him seeing my reaction to the new piece of art. Instead of going directly to the area in front of his desk, I go to the coffee bar and busy myself making a cup.

“What’s this I hear of you making threats to my employees?” he demands.

Ah. Mick’s the reason he didn’t greet me when I walked in.

“Not a threat, a promise. He messes with what’s mine, I’ll show him who the real man is.”

“Next time, I’d like to hear about this from you first, not a minion calling to complain. He’s not my son, you are.”

“Fine. Maybe next time I take a shit, I should clear it with you first? Because it literally happened not five minutes ago. I think my coming here directly afterward was indication enough that I’d be covering it when I arrived.”

If he wants to follow me, not Tessa—fine.

If he wants to question my loyalty—great. He should question it.

If he wants to threaten me with his veiled threats—so be it.

But do not demand I tell you my every move.

“You want to know what I do? Follow me—it’s not below you. Don’t follow my friend Tessa, and especially don’t send a baboon like Mick to follow her. Maybe do your research before hiring your minions. He’s a woman beater, a piece of filth not worthy of touching the ground I walk upon. He’s disposable, but I’m not. I’m your son. Next time give me a few minutes to let you know before you start demanding answers. It’s not as if I was keeping the confrontation from you.”

Holy shit. I’ve never talked to him that way. Him following my Cherry has set me on edge. Instead of yelling back at me or tossing me out of his office, he nods and the argument is over with.

“I applaud you showing me your balls of steel, son. I’ve been wondering when I’d finally see them. Terrible it’s taken ten years for you to use them.” He motions for me to take a seat, and I do. “Now, what’s the reason for us seeing each other today?”

“I’m going home for the weekend, I thought you’d like to know. Since I was only supposed to be here for a few days and it’s been extended, I have a few things to attend to back home. I’ll be back late Sunday evening. This meeting was to inform you of my travel plans.”

Like he doesn’t already know of them. He had Tessa and me followed yesterday, though we lost them with our detour, so she wasn’t followed into the airport.

“I see. I’d like to talk to you about a few other things anyway, so this meeting will be put to good use.” Pausing, he stands and walks over to the coffee bar. The first time I was ever in this office, I realized where my slight coffee addiction came from. My mom barely touches the liquid heaven, and my dad loves it, but, of course, he’s not actually my dad. My father obviously can’t function without his coffee. “I’d like you to reconsider leaving, son. I fear if I let you go, I’ll lose you completely. You’re my only heir. Your beloved brother Vinny would’ve taken the reins, but alas, he’s no longer with us.”

“No.” Shaking my head adamantly, I repeat my answer, “No, I won’t stay. It’s final.”

I’ve told him countless times over the last year that I’m not staying on. If I do, I’ll only go farther down the rabbit hole.

If I stay, I’ll lose my soul.

He doesn’t see it the same way, of course. He sees me staying on for life, and maybe someday outliving him and taking over. He’d have taken my words to Mick to heart when I said I was his boss, second in line.

“And you won’t reconsider?” he asks.

“No. I’m sorry, but no. I’m ready to live my life for myself. You haven’t given me the chance. You’ve taken over my life since I turned eighteen. You’ve held me under this disgusting contract since the day I left college. I’m not staying. I’ve been involved in the dark dealings of this world for far too long. Knowing but not knowing what was done to Johnson is nightmarish enough. I’m done existing as nothing more than a link in your chain. I’m leaving when my deal is over, and I’m never coming back.”

“I’ll take you leaving my employment, but I will not take you leaving my life. You’re my son—my son, not his. I’ve held up my end of the bargain, and I won’t tell our secret. It’ll stay between us and the family, and you, son, will remain a part of my damn life. Don’t fight me on this—you won’t win,” he spits out.

“Do I detect one of your thinly veiled threats? Because you can’t threaten me to stay in your life. That’s not very fatherly of you,” I spit back.

“Oh, my threat isn’t to you, it’s to those around you, and it’s not veiled at all—I’ll speak the words outright. If you leave my life completely, what’s her name, Cherry? Yeah, Cherry won’t be a part of your future either. I go, she goes. As long as you love her and vow to spend your life with her, I’ll be here, watching, waiting, and ready to pull the trigger to end her if you disappear from my life. Is that clear enough for you now?”

Motherfucker.

“Oh, I hear you, I just don’t believe you. I mean, yeah, I know you had Vinny killed, but why hurt me in this way? I’ve done nothing to you. I’ve worked loyally for you for ten fucking years and now I’m this close to happiness, but if I don’t stay in your life, you’ll take my happiness away. How do you sleep at night?”

“I sleep fine, don’t you worry. I sleep knowing all is great in my world. Everything’s like it should be. I’m richer than God, I’m married to a bombshell, and I have the son I never knew I was missing. If I have to kill a few people to make my life complete, so be it. I’ll do it as long as I need to in order to keep sleeping at night. I dream of a united family—my wife, you, your mother, and this Tessa. As long as you check in with me and spend a few family holidays with me, she’ll be fine. You’ll be fine, your mother will be fine.” He sits like he’s ordered lunch and is waiting for it to arrive. He’s a cold-hearted son of a bitch. “Now, leave. I have another appointment to get to. I’ll see you on Monday.”

Instead of answering him, I stand and begin to make my way out. Then a thought strikes me: I’m going to leave my sunglasses in here. If they’re found, who cares? It’ll look like a plain pair of sunglasses. Justin’s going to love me.

Walking back over to the coffee bar, I act like I’m making a cup to take with me and place my glasses on the counter in plain sight.

The best secrets are always hidden in plain sight.

* * *

I’m on the flight from hell, and I feel like celebrating when the pilot announces we’ll be landing shortly.

Thank fuck.

I have an aisle seat; late booking means no window for me. The two passengers next to me are treating the plane like their personal living room. Shoes off, trays down and strewn with empty mini bottles of whiskey, they’re watching a movie, and one has his pants unzipped.

Although I’ve never been a fan of flying, this has to be the worst flight ever.

I’m in hell.

The only thing keeping me from losing my cool is knowing I’ll see Cherry in less than an hour. I don’t care who’s around when I do—I’m greeting her with a hungry kiss. Everyone else can fade away. She’ll be the comfort in my storm.

“Hey, dude, can I get through? I have to piss,” my unzipped aisle mate asks.

Not answering him, I get up to let him through and notice two guys a few rows back, dressed all in black. They look vaguely familiar. Are they employees of Martinelli?

Not wanting to look like I’m checking them out, I open the overhead compartment and pretend to be looking in my bag. I’m not able to tell if they’re his people or not. Shaking it off, I concentrate on the time, staring at the home screen of my phone as the minutes pass. I’ll see Cherry in just a few moments. Each minute drags by slower than the last, until finally, we’re landing. All I can think about is getting to her as fast as possible. Once we’re safe and allowed to disembark, I’m the first off, sprinting through the terminal, passing people left and right as I go, finding the face I’ve been missing.

Cherry.

“Hey, Ace,” she greets as I reach for her chin, tilting her head. My lips land on hers and my tongue demands access inside, which she grants me, and I kiss her with all my might. My tongue dueling with hers, threading my fingers through her hair, I pull her in closer, consuming her.

She places her hands on my chest and…pushes me away?

“We have company.” She points behind her and I see them: Rhys and Averill.

Rhys looks pissed, which is to be expected. Averill’s mouth is open in shock. Did Cherry tell them this little tidbit? I know she told them we were spending time together, but maybe she didn’t tell them we’re intimate?

“I missed you and was just showing you how much. They’ll get over it.” Releasing her, I reach down for her hand and walk over to the man I used to call my brother. Now I don’t have the privilege. “Rhys, T-Lil, you two don’t know how wonderful it is to see you both. You don’t know how much I’ve missed you.” Averill jumps up and wraps her arms around me, causing me to let go of Cherry’s hand.

“I’m still pissed off at you, but I couldn’t not hug you.”

“I’m pissed at me, too,” I whisper as I let her go.

“Rhys, uh, I’d love it if you’d grant me some alone time with you tomorrow to set the record straight. Do you have some time to spare?”

“Yeah, I can move a few things around,” he snaps out.

It’s strange acting this…proper with him. We’re used to slinging out barbs instead of using each other’s names. It’s all my fault, but hopefully he’ll understand once he knows the whole story.

“You’re welcome to stay with us. I’m going to go out on a limb and guess you’ll be staying in Tessa’s room?” Averill asks.

“She didn’t tell you? I’m crazy in love with her,” I state.

“I knew it!” Av exclaims. “I knew you two were meant to be together. I mean, she told me a few things last night, but she didn’t tell me this. Holy shitballs, is there going to be another wedding in the works?”

“Hold your horses, T-Lil, I’m still trying to win her love, not to mention the fact that there’s danger lurking in the shadows. We’ll get there someday. She’s it for me, and she knows that. Now she has to deal with it.”

“Um, surprise?” Cherry pipes up from where she’s standing next to me, her fingers again threaded with mine.

Her comment causes everyone to laugh and lifts the mood between Rhys and myself, at least for the moment.

“Brant?” Rhys asks.

“Yeah, man?”

“We can talk tonight, if you want.”

* * *

After a tense dinner, Rhys and I are alone in the living room. The ladies went to Averill’s room to have some ‘girl talk’, which we all know is code for ‘tell me everything’.

“We’re going to need the hard stuff for this. No beer, just go straight for the whiskey,” I warn.

“Already ahead of you,” Rhys says as he hands me a bottle of Jack, keeping the other one for himself. “I figured we’d each need our own bottle.”

He takes a seat on the couch, and I take a chair opposite him. I’m facing him for this conversation. Breaking the seal on the bottle, I take a swig. It’s a burn I welcome.

“I’m going to start at the beginning. It’s a long story, but I’m going to spit it all out. It’s best if I do it that way, otherwise I won’t have the courage to keep going.”

He breaks the seal on his own bottle and also takes a swig. “Okay, I’m listening.”

Taking another drink, followed by a hearty swallow, I begin.

“My full name is Brant Vincent Ashley-Martinelli.” Pausing, I take another drink; I’m going to need all of it to keep going. Rhys’s expression is enough to kill. “Yeah, I can see the shock written across your face. Trust me, I’ve wanted to tell you since the day I found out. I was…restricted, let’s say, on who I could and couldn’t tell.”

Pausing, I take in a deep breath, let it go, and take another swallow.

“When I turned eighteen, I received a certified letter. What eighteen-year-old gets a certified letter? Anyway, it had my birth certificate inside along with a letter stating I was the product of a tryst gone wrong, and my real father would like to get to know me. Of course, his name was in there, but I didn’t give the letter another thought. I burned it, along with the birth certificate and picture that were also included. I knew who my dad was, and he wasn’t some dude named Vincent. Watching it go up in ashes, I figured I was in the clear. Yeah, he’d asked to meet me, but not until I finished college. I had four years to worry about it—or so I thought.

“Not long after, I received another letter. One of my professors gave it to me, actually, and along with it were the keys to a brand-new truck. He claimed it was a late graduation-slash-birthday present. I was eighteen, a poor college kid, and damn if I didn’t jump at the chance to own a new truck. I shouldn’t have. My accepting the truck was the same as my agreeing to meet this Vincent Martinelli.”

Rhys interrupts for one second to ask, “The same truck you passed down to me?”

“Guilty. It was a great truck, you needed wheels, and I had purchased another one by the time you came here a trained soldier.” Taking another long pull, I unravel it all, making sure to not leave out any details, until I get to the subject of his letters. “Your dad somehow found out about Martinelli. He, uh, didn’t want you back in his or your mother’s life. By knowing who my sperm donor was, he wielded power over me. He said he’d keep my secret if I kept your correspondence from reaching you. It was hard, man, but I didn’t want to break my dad’s heart. It was an impossible choice, but I had to make it.

“For years, I kept sending the letters and gifts back. It killed me to do it. When you gifted me with a trip to Cancun, I couldn’t keep the secret in any longer. My timing sucked, but at least it was out there. Not being able to fully explain gutted me. The reason I’m telling you now is that my contract is up in a couple of months. I’ll be free, my ten-year penance paid. I, uh, let it out earlier than planned, but I couldn’t let you in on my identity until I knew without a doubt you’d be safe from the fallout.

“I’m working with Justin to bring him down. There’s more to the story, the whys and hows of Cherry’s involvement, but I couldn’t let you not know now who my asshole of a father is. She’s in danger—real danger—and I need your help keeping her safe. She’s it for me, man, but I understand if you want to sever ties with me completely. I’ll leave peacefully and finish this job, as long as I know she’s safe. If knowing who I am means you have to take your friendship away, I get it.”

Placing my arms on my knees, I hang my head in shame. At least he knows now. It’s better for it all to be out in the open.

“Dickmunch, I love you like a damn brother. I’m not leaving you. It killed me not talking to you. It’s felt like I’ve been missing my left arm since the bomb was dropped back in Cancun. I’ll forgive you, and I’ll deal with the rest later. We can hash it out wrestling-style once everyone’s safe. Now, quit drinking, stand, and give your brother a manly hug—yes, manly—and go grab your girl to go to bed. You’re forgiven.”

Now whose mouth is open in shock—yep, mine.

“I’ve missed you so fucking much, turdburglar.”

With a hug, a bottle of Jack, and the truth, I had my brother back.

Av and I are sitting on her bed while I fill her in on my budding relationship with Brant. We don’t hear any yelling coming from the living room yet, and I’ll take it as a positive sign.

“I think I’m falling in love with him,” I admit.

“Totally called it. Yes! This means I win and Rhys loses.” She throws a fist into the air, celebrating her ‘win’.

“You’re a jerk. I’m trying to confide in you, and you’re gloating. Worst best friend ever.” Leaning back into the pillows, I attempt to tell her about Brant, Mick, and this whole crazy messed-up shitstorm currently making up my life. “I was beat by my ex-dickhead. I’ve never told you because I’m ashamed, which in the end is what he wanted all along—for me to be ashamed, embarrassed, humiliated, and regretful. Now, though, I know it’s all on him. Without telling you everything—because let’s face it, it’s a lot to handle in one night—I’ll give you the condensed version.”

Av doesn’t say anything, just moves over from her place on the bed and lays her head on my chest, offering me her silent comfort. Placing my arms around her, I cuddle her while she cuddles me.

“This is why we’re best friends—you get me. Without me having to ask for it, you comfort me by staying silent and offering me your strength.”

“It’s what you do for the people you love, be there for them for the great times, the hard times, and everything in between, and I love you, Tess. I’ve been mistreated in the arms of a monster, so I can relate. I’ll continue to be quiet while you tell me whatever you wish. I know in time, you’ll tell me everything.”

Squeezing her a little tighter, I continue to tell her about the hell I lived through with Mick. By the time we get to Brant, it’s nearly an hour later. “I’m worried about the guys. They’re awfully silent out there. I mean, I want to tell you all about how incredible Ace is in the sack, but I’m curious as to how they’re doing. What he had to tell Rhys isn’t light. It’s a heavy burden he’s carried for nearly ten years.”

“Firstable, you need to give me all the details. Secondable, I’m also curious, and I vote we go check on them before you continue, and grab some snacks. I’m starving.”

Laughing, I push her off my chest with care. “We ate maybe an hour, hour and a half ago, max. My niece is going to come out a little porker.”

“Gah, you’re such a bitch, Tess. What does Brant see in you?” she quips as she attempts to get off the bed.

“Here, give me your hands. I’ll pull you up, because I’m cool like that.”

After nearly throwing my back out and two attempts later, we walk into the living room to see our men…laughing?

“Av, look…they’re laughing. Why do I feel like crying?”

“Duh, because our handpicked family is complete again.”

“Let’s leave them be for a few, grab some snacks for your endless appetite, and I’ll finish filling you in on how Ace is winning me over. His part of the story needs to come from him. I’ll tell you what I can for now, which happens to include the hanky panky details.”

Am I going to give her the details? Hell no. My sex life is private. I will tell her I’ve never had the connection I feel when in his arms. It’s the truth; I’ve never felt this cherished. As we walk into the kitchen, Brant spies me from his spot in the living room.

“Cherry, co-come see m…” He hiccups instead of finishing his sentence. Noticing the bottle of Jack in his hand, I can see why. They’re drunk.

“I’m grabbing snacks for Av, she’s taking a potty break. From the sounds of it, it looks like you’ll be sleeping off a bender.”

“Well, after we—” He hiccups again. At this rate, he’ll never get out a full sentence.

“Rhys, are you as drunk as him, or can you actually finish a thought?” I ask.

“I’m three shots in, his bottle is nearly empty, so I’d say I’m definitely the soberer one. Let me clarify for this cockgobbler. What he’s trying to say is after we hashed things out for the night, we walked down the hallway only to find you ladies curled up together on the bed, crying. We decided to give you some time and thought drinking would be more fun.”

As he fills me in, Av comes waddling into the kitchen. She’s the cutest pregnant woman ever. Her shirt is partially up in the front, exposing the bottom of her pale tummy. Her feet are bare and swollen, and she’s simply beautiful. It’s true what they say about pregnant women—they glow.

“Being pregnant looks terrific on you, little mama.”

“Ugh, it does not. Have you seen my feet?” she complains while holding one out for me to examine.

“Yep, and they’re cute.”

“I tell her daily how beautiful she is. She doesn’t believe me either, so don’t be offended, Tess,” Rhys quips from the living room. “Uh…Brant appears to be passed out. Still want him in your bedroom?”

Do I? Hell yes I do.

“Yeah, he’s a mess, but I’ll claim him. If he throws up, you’re on cleanup duty though. I may like-love him, but I draw the line at cleaning up his puke.” My weak stomach would make a bigger mess.

“Deal. I’ll carry him to your room. It’s a good thing I stay in shape, because this heifer is heavy. I’ve lifted him plenty. Fireman’s carry always works best. I’ll be careful not to jostle him too much—we don’t want him tossing his cookies over my shoulder.”

“We don’t need him tossing them anywhere, and mainly not on my bed,” I point out.

“You like-love him? Which is it, you like him or love him?” Av asks.

“Huh?” I question.

“You told Rhys you ‘like-love’ him. I’m confused.”

“It’s what I feel. I’m falling in love with him, and it’s deeper than like.” In my head, it makes sense.

“Oh, okay then. Hand me the peanut butter and a spoon, please.”

Handing her the interesting snack, I walk over to help Rhys with my drunkard of a boyfriend. Once he’s settled in bed, I grab my pajamas and head into the bathroom to strip. I’m dead tired. Between all the running from Martinelli’s thugs and flying, I’m beat.

Making my way back into the bedroom, I stop in my tracks. Rhys is crying in the other room to Av. Hurrying the rest of the way to the guest bedroom, I close the door as quietly as possible, not wanting them to know I overheard their private moment. Snuggling under the covers, I place my head on Brant’s chest. He’s snoring, which I find comforting. Sharing a bed with him feels right.

It’s then I know I’m in love with him.