By the time they made it to bed, both of them clean and towel-dried, the world outside had shrunk to nothing but low lamplight and the hum of night. Summer wore one of her oversized sleep shirts, and Andy — still a little damp at the ends of his hair — stretched out shirtless beside her in her bed, stealing the corner of her blanket without shame.

  He curled around her back instinctively when she settled in, laptop open to browse a little before sleep. His arm slid under hers, palm over her heart like it was his favourite place in the world. Maybe it was.

  "Is this okay?" he murmured into her shoulder. "Me here. Like this."

  Summer smiled. "Mm. You're being ridiculous."

  "And happy," he said simply, curling his legs beneath him as he settled beside her. "You know, this is the dream, right here."

  Summer blinked, her hands going still on the keys. "What is?"

  "This. You. Letting me take off my mask and just... exist. I've had a lot of intense nights in my life, but this? This is the one I keep imagining coming back to."

  Summer's fingers tightened on the edge of her laptop. She swallowed. "You're sure this isn't just a nice break from glam and lights and... fantasy?"

  Andy reached out and gently closed her laptop. "This is the only part that isn't a fantasy."

  Summer didn't answer with words. She leaned into him, curled herself around him under the blankets. He tucked her in close, an arm slung over her waist, nose buried in her hair.

  "You have to be up early," he murmured sleepily. "But I can walk you to your desk. Maybe make you toast. If I'm very good, you might let me distract you again on your lunch break."

  She laughed softly, breath fanning against his chest. "That would be wildly irresponsible. I'm not sure I can allow it."

  "God, that's hot," he groaned melodramatically. "The domestic tyranny."

  "Goodnight, Andy."

  "Night, sweetheart," he murmured. "Love you."

  This time, she didn't freeze. She simply reached behind her, blindly, until her hand found his thigh and squeezed.

  * * *

  In the morning, Andy stirred slowly, the warmth of the bed and the lingering scent of Summer surrounding him like a cocoon. He might've kept sleeping — he wanted to — but something brushed gently against his forehead. Lips. Soft. Familiar. His eyes fluttered open to half-focus, just in time to see her red hair shifting in the morning light.

  "I love you," she whispered, barely audible, like she hadn't meant to say it so loud. Then she was gone — moving with quiet purpose, already dressed in a long tunic and flowing pants, laptop tucked under one arm. The bedroom door clicked softly behind her.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Andy lay still for a moment, pulse skipping. A smile bloomed across his face, slow and wide and stunned. He rolled over and buried his face in her pillow, breath catching with something close to giddiness.

  She'd said it.

  No performance. No expectation. No dramatics. Just Summer, whispering it into his hair like it had always been true. He didn't even realize he was grinning into the sheets until he muttered out loud, "God, I'm ruined." Then, muffled into her pillow, "Best morning ever."

  Later, Andy padded barefoot down the hallway, still warm from bed and sleep. Yesterday evening's dark brocade trousers sat low on his hips, slightly wrinkled from where he'd discarded them the night before, but they still shimmered faintly in the morning light. He looked faintly decadent, vaguely princely, and completely smug.

  He found her in her home office, perched cross-legged at her computer desk, brows furrowed in concentration. A glass of orange soda sparkled by one hand. She hadn't heard him yet.

  Andy leaned against the doorframe for a second, just admiring her. That intent little crease between her brows, the way her hair fell in a loose braid over one shoulder, the way she chewed her lip when the code gave her trouble. He could've watched her all day. But watching wasn't the point. Silently, he crossed the room and sank down behind her, sliding his arms around her waist and nuzzling into the curve of her neck.

  "You've been sitting here too long, my love," he murmured. "Time to stretch. Courtesan's orders."

  Summer blinked and twisted to look at him. Her breath caught slightly at the sight of him — bare-chested and sleep-ruffled, trousers slung low, eyes still hazy with affection. He was ridiculous. And beautiful.

  "Andy... " she said, half-protest, half-laugh.

  He grinned against her skin. "Come on. You'll get tech-neck if you don't move soon. Up."

  She gave a little groan, reaching for the mouse, but he was already tugging her to her feet, hands gentle but insistent. "Hands up," he instructed. "Stretch like you mean it."

  "Bossy," she murmured, but she obeyed, raising her arms overhead and arching slightly. Andy made a quiet, appreciative sound, then stepped behind her again, pressing warm palms to her ribs just below her raised arms.

  "You smell like sleep and mint," he said. "And you said you love me. You really want me to be responsible and not nuzzle you while you stretch?"

  "I never said you had to be responsible," she teased softly, blushing again.

  He kissed the back of her neck. "Good. Then I won't be."

  As he helped her stretch, Andy remembered her mentioning a code release on Thursday. Gently guiding her arms up and back, he murmured, "Hey, you said you had a release yesterday. How'd it go?"

  She blinked up at him, green-hazel eyes tired but pleased. "Perfect. At least, on my end. No rollback, no complaints, everything deployed clean."

  His return grin bloomed slow and bright. "My brilliant girl," he murmured, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. "Of course it did. I hope you celebrated."

  "I... had a cookie?"

  He grinned. "Only one? I'd have brought you a whole cake if I'd known."

  Summer tipped her head back, smiling up at him. "You were kind of distracted last night."

  Andy's smile turned sly. "I'm still distracted. But I'm also very impressed." He nuzzled into her hair, inhaling again. "You smell like a peppermint fairy. One who wrestles servers into submission."

  "Spearmint," she corrected, then flushed. "It's my conditioner."

  "Mmm. Then I officially approve of that conditioner."

  Summer laughed under her breath, sitting back down. "You're ridiculous."

  "Correct. And proudly yours," he replied, perching on the edge of her desk, still shirtless, his fancy trousers loose on his hips. "Want to celebrate? I could steal you for a victory lap around the bed."

  She glanced at him, playful. "I have meetings today."

  Andy gasped, pressing a hand to his chest. "Tragic. Work claims the heroine again. But — " he leaned down, close enough that his dark lashes nearly brushed her cheek — "I'm proud of you. I know what it takes to pull that off."

  Her smile turned a little shy, a little warm. "Thanks."