Page 125 of Perfect Alpha

I’m not in a rush because I’m finally comfortably settled in my relationship with Cade no matter what our official status is. We’re in love, we’re going to be homeowners for the first time together, and we’re parenting a little one as a team.

The rest is just decoration.

We aren’t going anywhere, and we’re both all in.

And damn, it feels good.

Cade went from playboy to partner, and while there have been a few flubs along the way, neither of us ran away, acted immaturely, or intentionally tried to hurt the other person.

Progress.

We’ll never be perfect, but we’ll keep getting better.

“Aidan is going to look so sweet in a little tux,” I say, staring into the flames of the fire that Cade has roaring.

“He’s doing so well with Blake. I can’t believe how much progress he’s made. It’s nice not to have him constantly hitting us and lashing out.”

“I know,” I agree. “She’s been so great for our family.”

Blake is a family therapist, and she’s helping all of us process our grief over losing Hannah. Cade also struggled with the minimal sentence the other driver in the accident received, which was nothing more than a slap on the wrist for taking two lives.

Letting go of things you can’t control, no matter how badly they hurt, is such a hard lesson. But sometimes, the only thing you can do is lay your pain down and move on.

Cade and I also attend therapy together to work on our communication as a couple. We have a lot of damaging patterns to break, and I’m so happy that we’re rewriting our blueprint from a place of mutual love and respect.

It’s easy to fall into old habits, but we’re both committed to doing the work. The things in life that are worth the most never come easy.

But I’m not giving up, and neither is he.

When Cade’s phone starts ringing, I glare at him. One of the rules for “our” time is that we don’t spend it with electronic devices in between us. We shouldn’t have to compete for each other’s attention, and phones are a distraction we don’t need.

They help us communicate with people far away from us, but they also put distance between us and the people closest to us.

“Sorry, angel,” he says contritely. “I forgot to turn it off.”

It starts ringing again as he’s powering it down.

“Wait,” I interject. “If they’re calling again, it might actually be important.”

“It’s just Gavin,” Cade replies. “I’ll call him later.”

The ringing starts yet again, and it brings me back to sitting on the balcony of my old apartment in New York City when my parents were trying to reach me.

They were calling to tell me that my best friend died and that both Cade and Aidan were in the hospital.

“Just answer it,” I insist.

Cade shrugs and turns the phone on speaker. “What’s up?”

“Sorry, you two,” Gavin’s familiar voice says. “I know you guys are doing your romantic backyard date thing.”

I bite my tongue to hold back a smile because Cade must have passed on the message not to bother us in the evenings. We use the time to reconnect and have focused conversations without the demands of raising a toddler.

We’ve always been great in bed.

Now we’re getting good at the rest.

“It’s alright, Victory allowed it,” Cade replies, giving me a wink as he settles beside me and puts his arm around me. “What’s up?”

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