I felt something warm, soft, and familiar press against my shoulder blades. A slow, steady breath caressed my skin, and I blinked my eyes open, slowly adjusting to the morning light. His arms were still wrapped around me, his body a cocoon of warmth. The faint scent of lavender, his cologne, and the subtle traces of last night lingered in the air—a combination I was beginning to associate with him.

"Good morning, baby," his deep voice rumbled, sending a pleasant shiver down my spine.

A smile tugged at my lips before I even turned to face him. "Good morning. Sleep well?"

"Yeah." His grip on me tightened, like he had no intention of letting go.

I looked at him—sleepy eyes, tousled hair, the soft curve of his lips as he watched me. Images from the night before flickered in my mind, a warm blush creeping up my cheeks. I giggled and instinctively pulled the sheets higher.

"Why are you laughing?" he asked, amused.

"Nothing," I lied, still smiling.

"Nothing?" His eyebrows lifted playfully. "I doubt that."

He brushed a strand of hair from my face, his fingers lingering, tracing the curve of my cheek. His gaze softened as he studied me. "How did I get so lucky?" he murmured.

"Maybe you've been a good boy this year," I teased.

"Or maybe you've been bad," he countered, his grin widening.

"Maybe."

He shook his head, laughing. "God, you are so..." He trailed off, like he couldn't find a word strong enough.

"So?" I prompted, curious.

"So wonderful," he said simply.

I whined, covering my face with my hands. "Harryyy, you're making me blush."

His lips brushed my forehead. "I did keep my promise, though."

"Promise?" I frowned.

His smirk returned. "Told you I'd figure out your sex sounds."

Oh. That.

I groaned, tugging the sheet over my face. "Harry!"

He chuckled, gently prying the covers down. "And?" he prompted. "Were you disappointed?" I challenged.

"Far from it." His expression turned smug. "Your sounds are..." He exhaled dramatically, his fingers tracing lazy circles on my back. "Sexy as hell. Thinking about them gets me hard all over again."

I rolled my eyes, trying to fight my own grin. But then, his voice softened, the teasing fading into something more serious.

"I have to admit something," he said.

I tilted my head. "Yeah?"

"I've never felt more connected to someone," he admitted, a rare hint of vulnerability in his tone. "Like I was finally..." He hesitated.

I reached out, cupping his face. "Finally what?"

"Home."

The simple word sent a jolt straight to my heart.

His thumb brushed my lips, his expression unreadable. "I was so nervous."

I blinked. "You were nervous?"

"I didn't know how to touch you... how to show you what I feel." His gaze dropped briefly, then found mine again. "I'm not used to this, Ella."

I squeezed his hand. "You were wonderful," I reassured him. "I was nervous too."

He frowned slightly, sensing there was more. "Why?"

I hesitated, then took a deep breath. "Because you've been with so many women. I didn't know what you expected from me."

His expression softened instantly. "Ella, baby." He pulled me closer, his lips brushing mine in a lingering, gentle kiss. "I don't expect anything. I just want you. However you want to give yourself to me."

His fingers traced down my spine. "I want you to feel free, to tell me what you like, what you don't. Being close like that—it's important, but it's only special if it's ours."

I nodded, my heart swelling at his words.

"And for the record," he grinned, eyes glinting with mischief, "I need to know that what I do to you feels as good as it does to me... because baby, I've had plans for this body."

I gasped, swatting his arm. "Harry!"

He chuckled, giving me an exaggerated wink. "Been imagining you in all kinds of ways for quite some time now."

I hit him again, making him laugh harder. "I love you," he whispered between laughs.

"I love you, too, you goof," I whispered back.

He sighed happily, his arms wrapping around me again, holding me close like he never wanted to let go.

After showering and getting dressed, we headed to the kitchen, both of us famished. The scent of coffee and toast filled the air, but as soon as we stepped inside, Chrys and Ed were already seated at the table, exchanging glances—amused glances. Ed's plate was wiped clean, and Chrys was busy serving extra eggs and toast, like she had anticipated our arrival.

We greeted them, but I could already tell something was brewing.

A second later, my phone buzzed with a text. Then Harry's.

"It's Gemma," I said.

"Yeah," Harry confirmed, reading his screen. "She's asking if we're together and wants to meet at The Corner Café."

"Same message," I nodded. "She wants us to meet her guy."

Harry grinned. "She must be serious about this one."

Before we could sit, Chrys suddenly clapped her hands together. "Harry, don't move!" she ordered.

Harry froze mid-bite. "Why?"

She disappeared into the hallway and returned dramatically, pretending to place something around his neck.

"There!" she announced. "Your medal."

He blinked, completely lost. "My what?"

"Your medal," she repeated, grinning. "For giving my friend such great pleasure last night. I'm sure the entire neighborhood knows about it."

I choked on my coffee, my face heating up instantly. "Chrys!"

Ed burst out laughing. "Well done, man!" he patted Harry's back.

Harry, the little shit, smirked proudly and bowed. "Always at her service," he declared. "I aim to please."

I wanted to die.

They continued laughing at my expense while I buried my face in my hands. "I hate all of you."

"You love us," Chrys corrected smugly.

Eventually, we managed to finish breakfast, and while Ed and Chrys headed out for grocery shopping, Harry and I left to meet Gemma at The Corner Café. The drive was peaceful, filled with laughter as I sang Adele at the top of my lungs, Harry grinning like I was the best thing he'd ever seen. It felt... perfect.

I was happy.

Walking into the café, the comforting aroma of fresh coffee and pastries greeted us. A familiar buzz of chatter filled the air, but my focus was on Gemma, who spotted us immediately and waved excitedly.

"Hey! Thanks for coming!" she beamed, pulling us into quick hugs.

"Of course," I said. "We wouldn't miss it."

"Come on, we're at the back," she said, leading the way.

Harry and I followed, weaving through the small tables, my eyes casually scanning the place. And then—

Everything stopped.

The chatter around me faded into nothing.

At the table, waiting for us with a polite smile, was someone I never thought I'd see again.

Gemma's voice was distant, almost muffled. "Guys, this is Michael."

And just like that, the world tilted.