Page 74 of Don't Puck Your Best Friend’s Girl

She doesn't respond immediately, absorbing my words with the same careful consideration she gives everything. The silence should make me nervous, but it doesn't right now. We've moved beyond the need for constant reassurance, into something more honest, more real.

I stretch out next to her, careful of both our injuries, maintaining a small space between our bodies. She closes the gap, curling into my side, her head finding the hollow of my shoulder like it belongs there. I wrap my arm around her and breathe in the scent of her hair. Having her this close to me does something to my heart.

"Okay. So, what now?" she asks.

It's a fair question. One without easy answers. But as I lie here, holding her, feeling the steady rhythm of her breathing against me, I realize the path forward isn't as complicated as it seems.

"Now we do better," I say simply. "Let's be honest with each other, with everyone. We stop hiding. We deal with the consequences of the choices we've made, together. And we try our damnedest to be worthy of a real chance."

She settles back against me, a small sigh escaping her. "You make it sound so simple."

I chuckle. "Yeah," I acknowledge. "But I've got everything I need right here." I drop a kiss on the top of her head, inhaling the scent of her shampoo again, committing this moment to memory — the weight of her against me, the quiet of her room.

For the first time, I understand why Sandy was willing to risk everything for Hannah. Some connections transcend logic, defy explanation. They simply are, as inevitable and necessary as breathing.

Chapter 22

Cade has fallen asleep beneath me, but my phone won't stop vibrating. It's Mina.

Everything okay in there?

Hey, just checking in.

I smile, loving how much my friends care for me. I love that they're always looking out for me.

Yes, everything is okay. You can go to sleep now lol sorry.

Chloe writes back right away.Is Cade the real deal? Everything was so tense and then you guys worked through it. Sounds serious.

I smile, my mind trying to find the right words.He is. I think we're pretty serious.

The texts that zip through from both Mina and Chloe are pure happiness, expressing how happy they are for me, how they think I deserve happiness. I thank them and the feeling settles down in my bones.

Sunlight filters through my half-closed curtains, painting warm stripes across the rumpled sheets. I wake slowly, consciousness creeping in at the edges, bringing with it awareness of the solid warmth surrounding me. Cade's arm drapes heavily across my waist, his breath steady against my hair, our bodies curved together like nesting spoons. The events of last night filter back in fragments — Byron's apartment, the fight, the blood, the confessions.

I'm not sorry for being in love with you, Saylor.

His words echo in my mind, clear and undeniable in the morning light. Not a dream. Not a misunderstanding. A declaration that changes everything.

Something hot and tight expands in my chest, pressing against my lungs until breathing becomes difficult. Tears gather, blurring my vision as the emotion crests and breaks within me like a wave against the shore. I try to swallow them back, to contain this overwhelming tide, but a small, choked sound escapes despite my efforts.

How can this be real? How can Cade Connolly — arrogant, infuriating, beautiful Cade — love me? The same man I spent many months despising, whose every word used to set my teeth on edge, whose confident smirk made me want to scream in frustration. Now his arms around me feel like sanctuary, his heartbeat against my back the most comforting rhythm I've ever known.

Looking back, I can see how his actions last night make a terrible kind of sense — the fury on his face when he saw me at Byron's, the deliberate provocation, the willingness to take punch after punch without fighting back. Not the tantrum of an entitled boy who didn't get his way, but the desperate actions of a man watching something precious slip through his fingers.

The tears flow freely now, silent tracks warming my cheeks as I struggle to reconcile this new reality. All my life, I've chosen the wrong men — men who put me last, who saw me as an accessory rather than a partner, who never fully showed up. I convinced myself that was all I deserved, all I could expect. Built walls of cynicism and sharp retorts to protect a heart that expected disappointment.

Yet somehow, the man I most despised broke through those defenses, saw the vulnerability beneath the armor, and chose to love me anyway, flaws, mistakes, and all. The revelation is too much, too overwhelming to contain. My body shakes with silent sobs, tears soaking into the pillow beneath my cheek.

Cade shifts behind me, his arm tightening around my waist. Instead of reaching for his phone as Byron always did upon waking, he nuzzles closer, pressing his lips to the nape of my neck in a gesture so tender it only makes me cry harder.

His body suddenly tenses, awareness clearly hitting him all at once. He rises onto one elbow, leaning over to see my face. The movement tugs at injuries from last night, a small wince crossing his features before concern overtakes it.

"Saylor?" His voice is rough with sleep but sharp with worry. "What's wrong, baby? Are you okay?"

I try to answer, but a fresh wave of tears renders me speechless. Instead, I turn in his arms, burying my face against his chest. His arms encircle me immediately, strong and secure, one hand stroking my hair with exquisite gentleness.

"Hey, hey," he murmurs, confusion evident in his tone. "What's happening? Talk to me."

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