Maggie is curled up on the couch, with a mug of tea in her hands, her face lighting up when she sees me. “Mia, love! Come sit,” she says warmly, patting the sofa beside her. I smile and drop my bag discreetly by the stairs, kicking off my shoes before crossing the room.
She pulls me into a tight hug, the kind that is deeply, achingly maternal. “Congratulations,” I say when we pull apart. “He played like a machine tonight.”
“Doesn’t he always?” she says proudly, giving Dylan a pointed look. “No thanks to those terrible ankles he keeps breaking.”
Dylan groans and flops onto the armchair, throwing an arm over his face. “Mum. Please.”
I laugh and settle beside her on the sofa. It’s easy, sitting there with them. Talking about the game, about the town, about silly things like Dylan’s childhood antics and how he once glued his fingers together trying to build a model plane. He’s relaxed in a way I’ve only seen glimpses of before. Like he can breathe easier with her around. And somehow, tonight, with me around too. It fills up something hollow inside me I didn’t even know was there.
It’s late by the time his mum finally stifles a yawn and stands.
“I’m going to head up,” she says, pressing a kiss to Dylan’s hair as she passes. “Don’t stay up too late, you two.”
Dylan smirks but doesn’t argue. “Night, Mum.”
“Goodnight, Maggie,” I say softly. She squeezes my shoulder and disappears up the stairs. The second her footsteps fade the air shifts. It’s just the two of us now.
The whole house hums with it.
Dylan crosses the room in three long strides and sinks onto the couch beside me, close enough that his thigh brushes mine. “You okay?” he says, voice low. I’m better than okay. I feel alive. Happy in a way that feels almost too big for my chest. Instead of answering, I trail my fingers down his forearm, feeling his muscles jump beneath my touch.
He catches my hand, turns it over, and presses his mouth to my palm. My breath stutters. “You’re dangerous,” I murmur.
He smiles against my skin. “So are you.”
We end up sprawled sideways on the couch, me half on top of him, my face tucked against his neck. Dylan runs his hands up and down my back in slow, soothing strokes, his touch leaving trails of heat that sink into my bones. “I’m glad you came,” he says quietly.
“I wouldn’t have missed it.”
“I wanted you here,” he says. “Not just for me. For her too.”
I lift my head to look at him. “She’s amazing,” I say. “I can see where you get it.”
He brushes my hair behind my ear. “You being here, it just made everything feel right.” I press a kiss to his jaw, slow and lingering. He tilts his head slightly, letting me, his hands tightening around my waist. “You feel like home,” he murmurs against my skin.
The words hit me right in the chest. I pull back just enough to look into his eyes, dark and wide and so full of love it makes my whole body ache. “I love you,” I whisper, the words spilling out easier than breathing.
He grins, slow and devastating. “I love you too, Trouble.” And then he’s kissing me; hungry, deep, and tender, like he’s been waiting all night for this.
We end up in his bed somehow, though I barely remember how we got there. All I know is the way he touches me; it’s like I’m something precious. He looks at me, like there’s no one else in the world. It’s slow tonight, not rushed or frantic. Just this endless, burning kind of connection that builds and builds until I feel like I might break apart from how much I feel.
He takes his time, learning every inch of me, making sure I know exactly how wanted I am. And I return every touch, every kiss, pouring every unspoken thing into him, into us.
Later, wrapped in the sheets, our bodies still tangled together, I trace idle patterns over his chest with my fingertips. He catches my hand and brings it to his lips, kissing each knuckle. “Stay,” he murmurs.
I smile, sleepy and sated. “I’m not going anywhere.” And I mean it, for tonight, for tomorrow. For however long he’ll have me. He tucks me closer into his side, his heartbeatsteady under my ear. And for the first time in what feels like forever, I fall asleep knowing exactly where I belong.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
DYLAN
The bed feels cold without her. I roll over, reaching out instinctively, but the space beside me is already empty. The faint scent of Mia still lingers in the sheets, vanilla and something warm and soft that sinks straight into my chest. The clock on the nightstand blinks 7:08 am. It’s too early for me to be awake. But she’s gone, slipping out quietly so she wouldn’t wake me or my mum.
I scrub a hand over my face and sit up, the ache of missing her already digging under my skin.Pathetic,a voice in my head mutters. I don’t even care. She said she wasn’t going anywhere last night. But the second she’s not here, it feels like I’m missing a piece of myself. I throw the covers back and climb out of bed, heading into the ensuite. I notice a new toothbrush sitting proudly next to mine on the vanity unit and my heart swells a little more. I fucking love that she feels comfortable enough to leave it here without asking. Shaking my head at how pathetic I am, I turn on the hot water and step underneath it. The powerful needles of water pound into my muscles, easing the ache from last night’s game.
When I drag myself downstairs, Mum’s awake and pottering around the kitchen. The kettle’s boiling, and toast pops from the toaster as I enter the room.
She’s humming under her breath, wearing an old rugby shirt and leggings, her hair tied up in a messy bun.
