The jet is more like a floating penthouse than a ne. Plush cream seats, a polished wood bar, and even a small bedroom is tucked in the back. I sink into buttery leather, buckling my belt as we taxi down the runway. I meet Nick’s eyes as he sits directly across from me.


    He’s lounging like he owns the sky, one arm drapedzily over the armrest.


    “What?” I narrow my eyes.


    He leans forward, keeping his voice low. “I was just thinking about the things that are still unchecked on your list.”


    My pulse skips. “Yeah?”


    He licks his lips, gaze burning into mine as the ne lifts. “Are you in?”


    “You know I am.” Heat creeps up my neck.


    Nick smirks, knowing he’s pure trouble.


    The second the seat belt light clicks off, he’s already out of his chair, kneeling in front of me. My breath catches as his hands slide up my thighs.


    “You’re so damn pretty.”


    Iugh, enjoying his hands on me. “Nick, what if the attendant?—”


    “She’s been warned to give us privacy once we’re at cruising altitude. Private jet perks. Come with me.”


    He stands and pulls me up with him. Nick’s mouth brushes mine, and it’s soft at first, and then he teases me. After a few seconds, the kiss deepens, his tongue sliding against mine. His hands grip my hips, guiding me against his hardness in his cks. The low groan he lets out vibrates straight into me.


    Eventually, the hum of the engines fades, and the mountains disappear beneath us. The whole world narrows to this moment.


    He lifts me, strong arms sliding under my thighs, carrying me down the narrow aisle. My fingers fist his shirt, my lips clinging to his as he opens the bedroom door. I gasp as heys me out across silk sheets, my back arching, my body already desperate.


    “Nick,” I whisper.


    He braces over me, eyes dark with hunger, but there’s something softer there too. Something that makes my throat ache. “This isn’t just about the list, Jules. It’s about celebrating you and making memories. You’re mine, sweetheart. Thank you for choosing me.”


    The words leave me breathless.


    “You chose me,” I say.


    None of this feels real.


    His mouth crashes down on mine, and it’s full of possession and devotion. Heat pulses through me as his hands roam, pulling at my clothes until my dress is gone. His mouth trails down my throat, biting, sucking, kissing, until I’m writhing beneath him. When he peels my panties down my thighs, they’re soaked. He pauses, looking at me like he’s starving.


    “Mine.” He growls, and it’s feral.


    Nick strips out of his suit pants and boxers, and the sight of him makes me whimper. He’s thick, heavy, and ready, and my entire body clenches with anticipation. He drags himself through my slick folds, teasing me, circling my clit, dipping inside me just enough to make me cry out.


    “Don’t tease me,” I beg, nails digging into his shoulders. “I need you.”


    He thrusts his fist into my hair. Nick’s jaw is locked tight, and the pupils of his golden-brown eyes are blown.


    “You’ll always get what you need from me,” he promises, mming into me in one deep, iming thrust.


    I scream, my body arching, clutching him as he fills me to the hilt. For a moment, it’s too much. Too good. My body grips him like every part of me was made for him.


    “I love you,” he whispers.


    My eyes sting, but my voice doesn’t shake. “I love you.”


    That’s all it takes.


    He pulls back and drives into me again—harder. The sound that leaves me is pure surrender.


    His mouth closes over my nipple, teeth tugging until I gasp. He soothes it with his tongue while his fingers pinch the other peak. Pleasure spreads through me.


    “More,” I say, clinging to him.


    He hooks my ankles over his shoulder and thrusts deeper, grinding against the spot inside me that makes me see actual stars. My fingers fist the sheets so hard that I think they’ll tear.


    “You were made for me.” He groans in my ear.


    My body clenches, spasming around him, and my climax tears through me. It’s violent and consuming as I scream his name, soaking him.


    The sight of me unraveling destroys him. His thrusts turn frantic, and with a guttural groan, he empties into me. Nick almost copses, but he holds himself upright.


    I cling to him, kissing his jaw, his lips, his shoulder.


    “Jules,” he whispers against my lips, “I don’t deserve you.”


    I cup his face, stroking his cheek. “But you’ve got me.”


    We stay tangled together, my legs around him, his breath ragged in my ear. And for the first time in my life, I understand what it’s like to love and be loved.


    Finally, he pulls the nket over us, his arm banding around me, his lips brushing my hair.


    “So, how does it feel to be an official member of the Mile-High Club?” he whispers.


    “Great. Do I get a member’s jacket?” I smile, exhausted and glowing.


    He chuckles, kissing my mouth again. “I might be able to arrange that. Just hope the next time you fly, you think about this. About us.”


    “It’s something I’ll never forget,” I admit.


    We don’t untangle for a long time. I stay curled against Nick, the nket wrapped around us, his heart steady under my ear while the engines hum beneath us. At some point, I drift off, only to wake to his fingers stroking my hair.


    The pilot’s voice filters through the inte. “Mr. Banks, Ms. Lovnd, we’ll bending in twenty minutes.”


    I’m sore, blissfully wrecked, and maybe the happiest I’ve ever been in my adult life.


    Nick helps me sit up, tucking my hair behind my ear. His grin is adorable, but there’s happiness in his eyes too. “Seems like we only have a few more things on the list.”


    “Just the elevator and balcony during a parade.” My cheeks heat as I think about every experience I’ve shared with him. “But I wouldn’t mind doing this again sometime.”


    “Just say when.” He kisses me once more before I slide my dress over my head.


    Butterflies flutter.


    The jet descends, New Yorking into view beneath us, the buildings glittering at night. It looks like a thousand constetions flipped upside down.


    This is the first glimpse I’ve had into his world.


    The ne taxis to the private hangar. Nick takes my hand, steadying me as I step out into the crisp night air. His driver waits beside a sleek ck car. We climb inside.


    “I should warn you,” he says, fingers interlocking with mine as we head toward the city. “There will be paps at my penthouse.”


    “I figured as much,” I admit. I’ve been preparing myself for this moment.


    Eventually, the car slows to a stop, and the driver opens the doors for us.


    Just as he promised, the night explodes with camera shes. Voices collide with questions, most of them personal and about our rtionship.


    “Nick, is she the one?”


    “Julie, how does it feel to be the newest Banks girlfriend?”


    “Engaged already? Is it true?”


    “Are you pregnant?”


    Pictures happen so fast that the shes blind me. I don’t shrink or try to hide. It’s something I won’t do anymore. For anyone.


    He holds my hand tighter as we step onto the sidewalk and guides me forward. My heart races—not from fear, but from certainty. They can take their pictures and write their headlines. It will never define our rtionship. Only we can do that.


    When a photographer gets too close, Nick ces his hand on my lower back. Questions continue to be shouted at us, and he protectively shields my body with his.


    “Can’t have you jacking up photographers in the city,” he mutters in my ear.


    Laughter escapes me.


    Security waves us into the building, and the sudden quiet after the nonstop yelling is almost dizzying.


    Nick nces down at me as we stride across the marble lobby.


    “Good job keeping it together, Red Menace,” he says, brushing his thumb across my cheek.


    I grin. “I left my karate moves back in Cozy Creek.”


    He studies me for a long beat, and the look in his eyes makes me fall all over again.


    “d you remembered who the hell you are,” he says.


    I lean into him as we step into the private elevator, resting my head against his shoulder. Right now, I’m not just visiting Nick’s world. I’m proving to everyone that I belong in it.


    When we enter the penthouse, my jaw practically hits the polished marble floor.


    Floor-to-ceiling ss stretches across the entire far wall. Central Park is spread out below like a dark velvet nket framed in the city’s lights. Skyscrapers blink in every direction, neon and ss colliding in a skyline I’ve only ever seen in movies.


    Nick’s hand is warm at the small of my back.


    “Wee to Park Towers,” he says casually, like he didn’t just bring me into a space most people would sell their souls to have.


    I drift closer to the windows, nearly stunned. “This is …”


    He gives one of his trademark shrugs, downying it. “It’s not bad.”


    I whip around. “Not bad? It’s like you have the entire worldid out at your feet.”


    I try to drink in his space. Minimalist furniture is arranged in perfect symmetry. I can’t imagine how expensive the art is hanging on the wall. This ce is beautiful, but it’s more like a museum than a home—untouched and curated.


    Then my eyes scan the kitchen, and I squeal when I see the stainless steel espresso machine on the counter.


    “Oh my God.” I rush across the sleek floor and stop dead in front of a gleaming machine that resembles a NASA control panel than a household appliance. “Holy shit.”


    Nick follows me and leans against the counter, arms folded. “I wondered if you’d notice.”


    “This is a La Marzo with custom mod panels and a straight-in portafilter. You can literally lock in a shot with one hand, not to mention the steam flush. And you have an automatic drip prediction feature!”


    Nick’s brows lift. “Really? That’s a thing?”


    I’m half offended, half giddy. “It’s the thing. This is basically the Ferrari of espresso machines. The absolute best of the best.”


    He watches me like I made his night. “Want me to prepare something for you?”


    I arch a brow. “You? Pulling a shot on this machine?”


    “When you buy one of these, they train you on how to use it,” he exins. “I’m a professional at this point.”


    I bite back a grin. “Oh, please show me.”


    He clicks it on, and after a few minutes, he hands me a tiny porcin cup. The crema is golden and perfect. I take a sip, close my eyes, and moan out loud.


    His sharp intake of breath has me focusing on him.


    “Jeez, Jules,” he mutters. “You can’t make sounds like that in my kitchen.”


    I grin. “This is great. Too bad you already have a job. I’d hire you at the shop.”


    He takes a sip from my cup, his eyes never leaving mine, like it’s not just coffee we’re sharing, but a secret vow. “It’s perfect. Like you.”


    Later, I curl up, barefoot, in the wide window nook and stare down at Central Park at night below me. The city feels alive, pulsing, but somehow quiet from up here. Experiencing New York like this makes it less intimidating.


    Nick leans against the frame, watching me instead of the skyline. His expression is unreadable, but soft around the edges in a way I don’t see often.


    “What?” I ask, reaching for him.


    That rare smile tugs at his lips. “This is the first time this ce has ever felt like home.”


    I blink up at him. “Right now? Like in this very moment?”


    He nods, eyes steady on me. “It’s you, Jules. You make every space I’m in feel like sunshine.”


    His words crash into me. This man could live anywhere, own anything, and be with anyone. He’s been chased and adored and torn apart by the media, and right now, he’s looking at me like I’m the only thing he’s ever needed.


    Me.


    Not the skyline.


    Not the penthouse.


    Me.


    I swallow hard, not believing this is my life.


    For so long, I wondered if I’d ever be enough for someone. Now he’s telling me I’m more than enough. I’m home.


    He sits next to me in the window seat, pulling me into his arms. I lean against his chest as he brushes his lips over my hair.


    “Do you think this feeling will ever fade?” I ask.


    “I’d bet itsts a lifetime,” he whispers, his arms tightening around me.


    The words squeeze around my heart.


    For so long, I thought love meantpromise, sacrifice, and losing pieces of myself to make someone else happy. But with Nick, it doesn’t feel like losing anything, but finding everything.


    I tip my chin, brushing my lips across his jaw. “Let’s not waste it. Not a single second.”


    His chest rumbles against me with quietughter, but when he kisses my hair, it’s more of a vow. “Sweetheart, I don’t n to.”


    The city glimmers beyond the ss, but it’s nothingpared to the unshakable truth humming in my chest.


    I stop wondering if forever is a possibility with us.


    I already know it’s ours.