Chapter 87 Part 87

Chapter 87 Part 87
Axl

While Aspen had slept the previous night, curled into his side with her hand resting over his heart, he’d booked their flights and accommodation in Bora Bora. The soft rise and fall of her breathing had steadied him as he finalized confirmations, his fingers moving with decisive urgency. He’d given Calvin and CJ a few weeks off, insisting they take the break. For once, he didn’t want security hovering. He wanted silence. He wanted her.
It was mid-morning when they arrived at their villa, warm island air wrapping around them like a gentle embrace. He couldn’t stop smiling—not because of the place, but because Aspen was smiling. Her eyes shone as she looked around the three-bedroom beach villa, her expression lit with childlike wonder.
The space was open and airy, white curtains shifting in the breeze, polished wooden floors warm beneath their feet. Beyond the wide glass doors, the ocean shimmered in impossible shades of blue. It was tranquil. Beautiful. With each step he took, he felt layers of tension peel away.
Their luggage was carried into the main room, and Aspen drifted toward the infinity pool as if drawn by instinct. He followed quietly, stopping behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. He rested his chin on her shoulder, breathing her in.
“It’s beautiful here, Axl.”
“Aren’t you glad now that I kidnapped you?” His voice was playful, but there was truth beneath it—he had needed to take her away before the world tried to claim them again.
She laughed and turned in his arms, her hands sliding up his chest. She pressed her lips against his in a soft, lingering kiss. “I’m very glad.”
He tipped the resort staff generously, and they quietly excused themselves. The moment the door closed, his eyes darkened with mischievous intent. He threw Aspen over his shoulder effortlessly and carried her toward the bedroom. Her laughter echoed against the high ceilings as he let her tumble onto the bed.
He pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it aside. Aspen watched him as he unbuttoned his jeans, her gaze openly appreciative. She shifted to the edge of the bed.
“Eager much?”
He grinned and huffed out a laugh. “We’re going swimming, woman. Keep your dirty thoughts to yourself.”
She laughed as he unzipped their suitcases and pulled out his swimming trunks. Aspen grabbed her bikini and quickly changed, the soft fabric hugging her curves.
He grabbed her hand, and together they ran through the villa and dove into the pool. The water was bliss—cool and silky against their sun-warmed skin. He surfaced, slicking his hair back, droplets running down his shoulders. Aspen turned her gaze to the tattoo at the center of his spine.
“What’s with the tree tattoo?” she asked as he climbed the steps.
He settled onto one of the loungers, dragging his hands through his wet hair, muscles flexing under bronzed skin. “How long have you been wondering about it?”
“Since I saw it.” She joined him, sitting between his legs. He pulled her back until her spine rested against his chest, his arms wrapping around her waist.
“It’s an Aspen,” he whispered against her ear.
Her body stilled. Her head snapped toward him, eyes searching his face. “An Aspen?”
He nodded and kissed her bare shoulder, lingering there. “Like I said, I’ve loved you for a long time.”
“When did you get it?”
“Two days after you left me.” His voice carried quiet vulnerability.
She shifted to face him fully. “Why?”
“Because it was always you.”
Emotion flickered across her features before she leaned forward and kissed him hard, urgency in the way she pressed herself against him. She crawled over his body until she lay flat against him, her heartbeat echoing his.
“I love you, Axl.”
They stayed on the lounge chair for a long time—talking, teasing, kissing—sunlight warming their skin. Eventually, he stood and stretched before heading inside. When he returned, he wore a light shirt and held out a flowing dress for her.
She slipped it over her head, the fabric settling softly against her skin, and took his hand. He led her down to the beach. The sand was warm beneath their bare feet. They walked along the shoreline as the sun dipped lower, streaking the sky with shimmering oranges and deep reds. The ocean mirrored the fire above, each wave catching the last rays of light.
He stopped walking. “Will you marry me?”
The question hung between them, sudden and electrifying. Aspen blinked. “What?”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out her charm bracelet—the one she’d left behind. He fastened it gently around her wrist, his fingers brushing her pulse. “Marry me.”
“Yes,” she whispered.
Relief and joy surged through him in the same breath. He lifted her off the ground and kissed her fiercely, not caring about witnesses, not caring about anything except the taste of forever on her lips.
Two days later, they stood on the same beach as the sun began its descent again. He wore a short-sleeved shirt left open over a white undershirt, khaki shorts brushing his knees. Aspen’s cream lace dress reached mid-calf, longer in the back, the delicate fabric glowing in the golden light. They were barefoot. Her bouquet was made from local flowers gathered from the villa.
The ring on her finger caught the sunlight, scattering sparks of brilliance. As the resort’s pastor declared them husband and wife, something inside him settled into place with profound certainty.
“I breathe you, Axl,” she said before kissing him.
His heart stumbled. He had whispered those words once before—in the dark, in the quiet—never expecting to hear them echoed back.
“Congratulations,” the pastor said, closing his Bible.
They signed the register, hands trembling slightly. Axl swept her into his arms again, laughter spilling from her lips as he carried her back to the villa. Candles flickered everywhere, their glow soft and intimate. A chilled bottle of champagne rested in ice, condensation beading along the glass. Flowers adorned every surface. Soft piano music drifted through the air. Their hearts beat in sync as he kissed her again before carrying her into the bedroom.
He placed her on the bed and hovered above her, grin playful. “Now you just need a tattoo saying Property of Axl Reynolds.”
She laughed and pushed at his chest. “I’ll get one that says Property of A.R.”
“Because you’re A.R. now, too?”
“Yes,” she said proudly.
He shook his head. “I don’t need to stamp my claim on you. It’s ingrained under your skin, in your heart, in your soul. You have that same claim on me.”
Her fingers traced along his jaw. “I don’t want to miss another moment with you. You’re my endgame.”
“I breathe you too, Aspen.”
The rest of the week blurred into something almost sacred. He sat on the floor with his guitar, melodies flowing easier than they had in years. Aspen lounged nearby, listening, offering soft smiles when a lyric landed right.
They cooked together, bumping hips in the kitchen. They slept late, walked the shoreline every evening, danced barefoot in the warm rain, and drank coffee at sunrise with their fingers intertwined. Every night, he fell asleep feeling whole in a way he hadn’t known was possible.
On their eighth day, Aspen finally powered on her phone. He was in the shower, steam curling around him, promising this time to wash more than his armpits. He hummed under the spray, unaware. Aspen scrolled through messages and missed calls. Then she clicked on North’s name.
“Axl! We’ve got a problem!”