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SARAH
We’d driven far, past the last stretch of the city, past the outer edges of Sullivan territory, and well into Cincinnati.
Cullen hadn’t said where we were going, and I hadn’t asked. I just let him hold my hand and drive, stealing quiet glances at me when he thought I wasn’t paying attention. Sometimes I caught them. Sometimes I didn’t mind. When he finally pulled off onto a narrow gravel path lined with trees, I looked down at my bare feet and raised an eyebrow.
“You’re not walking,” he said, already out of the car before I could respond.
He opened my door and leaned down, and the next thing I knew, his arms were around me again, warm and effortless.
“I can walk...” I started.
“No, you can’t,” he said, already lifting me up like I weighed nothing. “And even if you could, I wouldn’t let you.”
He started walking, the gravel crunching beneath his feet, the hill sloping gently ahead of us. I didn’t fight him. Not really. Not when I could feel his breath so close to my cheek. Not when I could feel the rise and fall of his chest, steady and warm, or the way his arms flexed around me every time he adjusted his hold. His skin smelled like heat and cologne and something else that was just him.
Every now and then, he glanced down at me, just quick, sideways looks but they were enough to make something flutter low in my stomach. I rested my head against his shoulder, not because I was tired, but because I could.
It wasn’t a long hike, just enough to leave the road behind, just enough to feel like we were somewhere else. And when we reached the top of the hill, he set me down gently on the soft grass.
“Welcome to my hiding spot,” he said, flashing a grin like a proud jock who’d just shown off his locker room stash.
I burst out laughing. “Seriously?”
He dropped onto the grass beside me. “What? Don’t knock it till you see it.”
I turned. And I saw it.
The entire city stretched below us in quiet, glowing layers. The sky was melting into twilight, streaks of gold and lavender into the horizon.
“Okay... fine,” I said softly, taking it in. “It’s beautiful.”
“I know,” he said, teasing. “You think I just drive around with no plan?”
“You literally just did,” I said, smiling.
“Details,” he said, waving it off.
I sat beside him, curling my toes into the grass. “So this is your spot, huh?”
He nodded, more serious now. “Yeah. You should see it at night with all the lights on. When I need to breathe. Think. Be alone... or not alone. This is it. I come here,” he said quietly.
“When I’m sad. Or when I need to talk to myself. When I don’t want to be around anyone else, but I still need... space.”
He gave a short laugh under his breath, but there was no humour in it. Just truth.
“It’s not a secret spot, really. It’s not hidden. But nobody comes here. Not like this. It’s kind of mine.”
I glanced at him, but he didn’t look at me.
“I’ve never brought anyone here before,” he added, still watching the city below us. “Never felt like I needed to.”
He didn’t say more than that. He didn’t need to and I didn’t push. I just looked out over the city again, still holding his hand. The breeze rolled past us, and for once, I didn’t feel like I was running or hiding or bracing myself for what came next. I was just here, with him.
We stayed that way for a long time. Just the two of us. At some point, I shifted and lay my head on his lap. He didn’t say anything—just began playing with my hair, gently curling strands between his fingers, smoothing them out, starting again.
The world below us felt like it had disappeared. No noise. No engines. No music, no crowds, no towers of glass and concrete. Just the soft sound of the breeze weaving through the grass, the rustling trees, and the occasional birdsong. The air smelled clean, like something I didn’t realise I missed. I could’ve stayed like that forever. If my stomach hadn’t growled.
It was loud. I cringed and pulled my head from his lap, frowning as I mumbled, “Sorry.”
He chuckled. “That’s okay. It’s already past lunch anyway.”
He held out his hand. “Let’s go get something to eat.”
I took it but raised a brow as he helped me to my feet. “But I thought you couldn’t be seen with me anywhere?”
“When we were coming here, we should’ve stopped and got some fast food,” he said, already scooping me into his arms again like it was nothing.
We started down the hill, back the way we came, but halfway down, he paused.
“Why are you stopping?” I asked, looking up at him.
“You do eat fast food, right?”
“What?” I blinked. “Yeah, of course.”
“I mean,” he went on, suddenly looking unsure, “sometimes my mom and Bella are on a diet, and whenever you even mention pizza or burgers, they go nuts.”
He laughed at himself, and I couldn’t help but smile as he kept walking.
“So... are you cool with that?” he asked.
“Yeah. I’m cool with that,” I said lightly.
But as I rested against his chest, I took a quiet inventory in the back of my mind.
He keeps mentioning his mom and Bella a lot.
He’s already brought them up....what, two or three times today?
But he hasn’t mentioned his father or brother once.
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