Page 99 of Rook

Avery slid her hands up his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath, the strength beneath her palms, the man he’d become.

He pulled her into his arms, not desperate, not drowning, but steady. Certain. Whole.

Avery melted into him, her forehead pressed to his, her hands fisting in the back of his cut.

This wasn’t the frantic, terrified embrace of two people afraid to lose each other. This was the embrace of two people who had already chosen each other.

Every day. Every storm. Every quiet morning and messy night. They weren’t clinging anymore. They were building.

A life. A home. A future.

Messy. Beautiful. Theirs.