"Sleep," he says.
"Stay."
"Forever."
I believe him.
Epilogue
The elevator doors open directly into the penthouse, and a wall of noise hits us. Laughter, someone arguing about music, the clatter of dishes meeting marble counters.
Chesca's hand tightens in mine.
"It's LOUD."
Cole steps up behind us, close enough that warmth radiates through my blouse. "It is always loud."
"Finally!" Alina's voice cuts through the chaos, and I spot her at the kitchen island, hair pulled back, gesturing with a wooden spoon at someone while three pots compete for her attention. Her eyes land on Chesca. "I need a taste-tester. Very important job."
Chesca looks up at me. "Can I, Mom?"
I nod.
She bolts. Alina catches her mid-stride and lifts her onto a stool like it's choreographed.
Cole's hand settles at the small of my back and steers me toward the kitchen.
The penthouse sprawls before us, all open floor plan and industrial beams meeting luxury finishes, floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing the San Francisco skyline in twilight purple. The smell hits me next, layer after layer of it. Garlic and tomato from something Italian, the bright tang of calamansi from something Filipino, bread warming, chocolate and hazelnut from what looks like a torte on the counter. The kitchen island is covered in dishes, Italian on the left and Filipino on the right, neither side giving ground.
"Wine?" Vanessa appears at my elbow, pink-streaked hair escaping its bun, grin bright and welcoming. "Red, white, or Jax brought tequila but we're pretending we didn't see it."
"Red."
"Smart woman." She pours, and the glass is warm against my palm when she hands it over. "Chesca's got Alina wrapped around her finger already."
"Grandma Sophia's torte," Cole murmurs, following my gaze toward the counter.
Vanessa catches that and grins. "Cole's biggest fan. She tried to set him up with her neighbor's granddaughter. Twice."
"The mission was to extract a recipe." Cole's voice is flat. "The mission was successful."
"She pinched your cheek and called youbello."
Cole's jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. I take a sip of wine to hide my smile.
"Should I be worried about Grandma Sophia?"
"Apparently I'm appealing to Italian women." His eyes find mine. "It's becoming a pattern."
"Apparently."
Kade appears beside us. I didn't see him cross the room. "Angelina. Good to see you."
"Likewise."
The corner of his mouth twitches, which might be the closest he gets to a smile. Then Alina calls his name from the kitchen, holding up a spoon, and he's already moving toward her before she finishes the word. She points at something on the counter, and he's handing it to her before she asks. Even across the room, their shoulders angle toward each other, faces turning like compasses finding north.
Chesca's laugh cuts through the noise, high and delighted and carrying.