Page 131 of The Most Perfect Wrong

“God,” I groan, gripping her hips tighter as I push into her one last time, the euphoria ripping through me. “You feel so fucking good.”

I pull out of her slowly, the aftershocks still rippling, my dick sensitive as hell. I take a moment to catch my breath before meeting her in the bathroom moments later. She’s washing her hands, her hair slightly mussed, and the sight of her makes my chest ache. I step behind her, pressing gentle kisses to her shoulders.

“I like having you here… at my house,” I murmur, my lips brushing against her skin.

She meets my gaze in the mirror, her smile soft and genuine. “I like being here.”

“No.” I wrap my arms around her stomach, resting my chin on the top of her head. “I don’t think you get it. I really like having you here. I don’t think this move would feel the same without you.”

Her brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” I say, kissing the top of her head. “It would just feel… empty. Knowing I was starting over, without you here?” I sigh, the weight of it pressing on my chest. “It would suck.”

She turns around, her hands sliding up my chest, grounding me. “Trust me, I get it.” Her eyes wander over my face. “And I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

I lift her onto the counter, her legs wrapping around me instinctively. “Will you spend the night?” My hand cups her cheek, and she nods.

“Of course,” she whispers, leaning forward to press a kiss to my chin.

My heart pounds as I pull her closer, wrapping her in my arms, her naked body pressed against mine. She rests her ear against my chest, and I know she can hear my heartbeat—loud, fast, unsteady.

The words I want to say are right there, teetering on the edge of my tongue.I love you.But I chicken out, fear gripping me. What if she doesn’t feel the same way? What if it’s too soon?

So, I don’t say it.

Instead, I kiss her.

I hold her.

I bring her to my bed.

I make love to her, slow and deep, pouring every unspoken word into the way I touch her, the way I move with her.

But I don’t tell her.

We fall asleep, her body wrapped around mine, sinking into me like she’s a part of me. I pull her closer, my arm tight around her waist, never wanting to let go.

For the past year, I’ve felt disconnected, like nothing could feel like home. I dreaded the thought of getting my own place, of confronting that void—until now.

Because being here with her fills it. She doesn’t just feel like home—she is home.

Chapter 39

COOPER

March

I squeal as I walk into the elaborate villa. “Are you kidding me? Look at this place!”

Before Ryan can respond, I’m already in the next room, exploring every nook and cranny of the massive suite. Marble tile stretches across the floors, gleaming under modern luxury lighting. The space is filled with sleek, tasteful furniture and carefully curated art pieces. Floor-to-ceiling windows and doors line the outer walls, letting the light flood in.

The kitchen is a dream, decked out with everything you could ever need. The ceilings are impossibly high, making the whole place feel even more expansive. It’s absolutely stunning.

We arrived in Turks and Caicos less than an hour ago, and as soon as we stepped foot on the island, we were whisked away to this resort. Vivian and Leo had already checked us in, arriving a few days earlier with her parents. The rest of the friends and family are trickling in over the next few days before the wedding on Wednesday.

“Babe?” Ryan’s voice carries from somewhere in the villa. “Come outside.”

I walk through the living room toward the oversized patio, my breath catching at the sight of lush greenery, elegant outdoor furniture, and a large pool that sits between us and the villa next door.

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