“Hey.” He steps into me and frames my face with his hands, and it takes everything I have not to sag into his touch. Words escape me as that fluttering hope morphs into full-blown anticipation. Please still love me.

“Gunner.”

He presses his lips to mine and kisses me with the same longing I’ve felt.

Things I never thought were possible—emotions, feelings, love—surge inside of me from the simple touch of his lips.

“Neither of us are the same. We changed each other.” He wipes a tear off my cheek with his thumb.

“But how do we do this? You live in Destiny—”

“We figure it out, because the only thing that matters is this. Us. We’re the only ones who can write our own story. Chase, the only person I want to write my happily ever after with is you.” He presses his lips to mine again, and then whispers, “You broke my heart. You shattered it into a million tiny pieces, but you know what? When you left, when I was left in a world without you, I realized that was never your intention. I believe you. I believe that you would never have deliberately tried to hurt me. And you’re one of the few people in my life who I can say that about.”

“It’s true. I didn’t mean to—”

“I still love you, Chase Kincade. I can’t let you go. I won’t let you go. No regrets?”

Tears spring to my eyes as Gunner wraps his arms around me and pulls me in against him.

“No regrets.”

And standing in the middle of the lobby with business people walking all around us, oblivious to how life-changing this moment is for us, I’ve never felt more complete.

More loved.

More at home.

EPILOGUE

Chase

Eighteen Months Later

THE NIGHT AIR TICKLES MY hair against my cheeks, as I lean against the railing with what I’m sure is a ridiculously goofy grin on my lips.

Sure, I’ve had a few or maybe a lot of glasses of wine tonight to aid in the goofiness of that grin, but it’s not just the alcohol that’s bolstered it.

It’s this.

All of this.

The twinkly lights overhead as Brexton and her new husband, Drew, dance the night away. I’m surprised her wedding dress even touches the ground with how high her head is in the clouds tonight. Then there’s Drew and the look in his eyes—complete and utter adoration—every time he looks at her.

Laughter to the left of the dance floor draws my eyes to where my eldest sister, Dekker, is swaying to the beat of the music. Her husband, Hunter, stands behind her, his arms around her, and his chin on her shoulder as they watch my one-year-old nephew attempt to dance with his aunt Lennox.