Leo

Miller didn’t stop singing even when we finally made it to our room. This was the first time we had stepped inside since we arrived on the island.

The door clicked shut behind us, but his off-key voice kept going, echoing softly against the wooden walls and high ceiling.

"Grow as we go... Boy you better!"

I couldn’t help but laugh as I locked the door.

The room smelled faintly of sea salt and lavender. Moonlight poured through the large glass doors that opened onto a private balcony, casting silver stripes across the big bed we hadn’t even slept in yet.

Miller was still buzzing with alcohol and pure joy, his cheeks flushed, his hair wild from the wind and water.

He suddenly turned to me, eyes bright and unfocused, and grabbed my cheeks with both hands. His palms were warm, a little sticky from the drinks, and he squeezed gently, squishing my face like I was something adorable and ridiculous.

"Oh, you are so cute," he slurred, grinning widely. "Look at your cheeks... so squishy. Leo Ackerman with the serious face and the medical brain, but these cheeks? These are boyfriend cheeks, and they are mine."

I tried to speak, but it came out muffled. "Mmmiller—"

He laughed and pulled me forward, completely losing his balance. We tumbled onto the bed in a mess of limbs and laughter. The mattress dipped under our weight, the soft white sheets cool against my skin. Miller landed half on top of me, still holding my face, his body heavy and warm.

"You’re really drunk," I murmured, but there was no scolding in my voice—only fondness.

"Drunk on you," he sang badly, then dissolved into giggles. He finally released my cheeks but didn’t move away. Instead, he nuzzled his face into my neck, breathing me in. "Leo... my Leo."

I lay there for a moment, letting him settle, one hand stroking slowly up and down his back. His muscles were relaxed in that loose, alcohol-soft way, but I could still feel the strong frame beneath his shirt.

Carefully, I rolled us so he was on his back and I could sit up. He reached for me immediately, not wanting to let go.

"Stay," he mumbled.

"I’m not going anywhere," I said softly. "But you need water. And these clothes are damp. You’ll catch a cold if we leave them on."

I slipped off the bed and went to the mini-fridge, grabbing a cold bottle of water. When I returned, Miller had half-propped himself up on his elbows, watching me with those hazy, adoring eyes.

I helped him sit fully upright, then held the bottle to his lips.

"Small sips," I told him. "Your body is still processing the ethanol. Hydration will help prevent headaches later."

He drank obediently, some water slipping down his chin. I wiped it away with my thumb, then started unbuttoning his shirt. Each button revealed more of his warm, tanned skin.

When the shirt was off, I tossed it aside and gently pushed him back down so I could tug off his shorts too, leaving him in just his boxers.

Miller watched every movement, quiet now except for the occasional soft hum of the song still stuck in his head.

"You take such good care of me," he whispered when I pulled the light sheet over his legs. "Even when I’m annoying. Even when I push too hard."

I climbed back onto the bed and lay beside him.

Miller immediately curled into me like a baby—knees drawn up slightly, head tucked against my chest, one arm thrown across my waist as if he needed to anchor himself to me.

I wrapped both arms around him, pulling him closer, one hand gently rubbing his back in slow circles while the other cradled the back of his head.

"I meant everything I said earlier on the jet ski," he murmured against my chest. "I don’t care if I have to be vulnerable. I don’t care if I have to suppress my alpha side every single day for the rest of my life. As long as you’re okay. As long as you’re not fighting alone. I’ll bare my neck for you. I’ll let you lead. I’ll do whatever it takes so you never feel like you’re turning into your father."

His fingers tightened on my shirt.

"I know I lost my parents young. They left me... not by choice, but they still left. And sometimes that fear creeps in—that everyone I love eventually walks away. But you... you make me believe it doesn’t have to be like that."

He tilted his head up to look at me, his eyes glassy in the moonlight. "Will you always be by my side? Promise me you won’t leave me like they did. Even when your enigma is loud. Even when I’m too dominant. Even when things get hard again. Stay with me, Leo. Please."

I tightened my arms around him, holding him closer like he was something fragile and precious. My chin rested on top of his head as I breathed him in—sea salt, wine, and that familiar cedarwood scent that was purely Miller.

"I promise," I whispered into his hair. "I’m not going anywhere, Miller. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever. Your parents didn’t choose to leave you, and I’m choosing you every single day. Alpha, enigma, fights, hockey seasons, bad days on the ice—all of it. I’m staying right here by your side. Always."

Miller let out a shaky breath and burrowed deeper into me, curling even smaller like a child seeking comfort.

I kept holding him, one leg gently draped over his, my hand never stopping its slow, soothing strokes along his spine.

"We’ll call Nico later," I said quietly. "When we’re both ready. So don’t worry about that anymore. It’ll be fine."

He nodded against my chest, already growing heavier as sleep pulled him under.

"I love you," he whispered, the words soft and slurred. "So much it scares me sometimes."

"I love you too," I replied, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "Sleep now. I’ve got you."

Miller hummed softly, the last remnants of the song fading into a contented sigh. He stayed curled against me like that.

I stayed awake a little longer, holding him close under the moonlight, listening to the ocean outside and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against mine.