Page 99 of Six of Hearts
"Come here," he said, and when I got close enough, he pulled me against his side. "How are you holding up?"
"Good," I said. "Really good, actually."
"No second thoughts?"
"Not even a little."
He pressed a kiss to my temple. "Good. Because Finn's already planning where to put your stuff in his room."
"In his room?"
"He wants you to have a drawer. For when you stay over." Ronan's voice was rough with emotion. "He's never asked for that before. Not even with Eva."
I looked over at Finn, who was helping Wyatt carry a box of books that was definitely too heavy for them. My heart swelled.
"I'd be honoured," I said.
The next few hours passed in a blur of boxes and furniture and seven kids who were more hindrance than help but absolutely precious nonetheless. Ethan carried my mattress like it weighed nothing, his muscles flexing in a way that made me momentarily forget what I was doing. Julian charmed my elderly neighbour into giving us her old bookshelf. Liam organised everything with the precision of a lawyer preparing for trial.
And through it all, the kids were everywhere—asking questions, telling stories, making sure I knew exactly where everything should go in my new room.
"You need to be close to the bathroom," Theo informed me seriously. "In case you have to pee at night."
"That's very thoughtful," I said, trying not to laugh.
"And near the stairs," Oliver added. "So you can hear if we need you."
"I'll always hear if you need me," I promised.
By early afternoon, my apartment was empty except for the new furniture Gabriel had bought. We'd arranged for the donation pickup tomorrow. I stood in the middle of the living room, looking at the space that had never quite felt like mine.
"Ready?" Noah asked from the doorway. He'd been quieter than the others today, letting everyone else take charge. But his eyes had barely left me all morning.
"Yeah," I said. "I'm ready."
He crossed to me, taking both my hands in his. "I know this is a big step. If you need to keep this place, if you need somewhere that's just yours—"
"I don't," I interrupted. "Noah, I don't need this place. I need you. All of you. This apartment was never home. You are."
His eyes shone, and he pulled me into a kiss that was soft and sweet and full of promise.
"Let's go home then," he murmured against my lips.
The caravan to Noah's house was ridiculous—the moving truck, followed by five cars full of dads and kids. I rode withNoah, and the twins chattered the entire way about where my things would go and what we'd have for dinner and could we please, please, please get pizza?
"We're having a proper family dinner," Noah said firmly. "Aria's first official night, we're doing it right."
"But pizza is proper," Theo argued.
"Pizza is perfect," Oliver agreed.
I caught Noah's eye and grinned. "Pizza does sound good."
He sighed, but he was smiling. "Fine. But we're using the good plates."
"The good plates!" the twins cheered.
At the house, organised chaos erupted all over again. The dads carried furniture while the kids "supervised," which mostly meant getting in the way and offering contradictory advice.
