The soft glow of morning sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains of the beach house, casting golden streaks across the wooden floor. The rhythmic crash of the waves outside was soothing, almost hypnotic, as Izzie stirred beneath the weight of Jordan's arm draped over her waist.

She blinked slowly, taking in the warmth of his body pressed against hers, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the way his fingers lazily traced patterns along her hip even in his sleep. Last night had changed everything. It wasn't just the kisses, the touches, the way their bodies fit together-it was the way he had looked at her, as if he had been waiting for this moment just as long as she had.

She shifted slightly, turning onto her side to face him, careful not to wake him. His face was relaxed, peaceful in a way she didn't see often. Jordan was always carrying so much-expectations, responsibilities, the weight of his past relationships. But here, in this quiet space between them, he was just... him.

Her fingers moved instinctively, brushing a stray curl from his forehead. The moment she made contact, his eyes fluttered open, dark and warm, a slow smile spreading across his lips.

"Morning," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.

Izzie smiled. "Morning."

He let out a content sigh, his fingers tightening around her waist as he pulled her closer. Their legs tangled beneath the sheets, the warmth of their bodies mingling in a way that sent a slow, pleasurable hum through her veins.

"Tell me this wasn't a dream," he whispered against her temple, his lips grazing her skin.

She shook her head, her fingers sliding down his bare arm. "It's real."

Jordan exhaled, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead before pulling back just enough to look at her. "Good," he said softly. "Because I don't want to go back to pretending."

Izzie's heart clenched at his words, at the sincerity in his voice. "Me neither."

They lay there for a while, neither rushing to move, letting the weight of the moment settle over them. There were no expectations, no outside noise-just the two of them, finally acknowledging what had been simmering between them for years.

Eventually, Jordan shifted onto his back, one arm still wrapped around her as he stared up at the ceiling. "So," he started, his tone teasing, "does this mean we have to have the talk?"

Izzie propped herself up on her elbow, smirking down at him. "The talk?"

"You know." He turned his head to look at her, his eyes filled with amusement. "The whole 'what are we' thing."

She rolled her eyes playfully. "You're the one who said you didn't want to pretend anymore, J. What do you think we are?"

Jordan's expression softened, his fingers reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "I think," he said, his voice steady, "we're finally where we're supposed to be."

Izzie felt her breath hitch, her chest tightening at the sheer honesty in his words. "Yeah," she whispered, leaning down until their lips were just a breath apart. "I think so too."

Their lips met in a slow, lingering kiss-one that wasn't rushed or desperate, but full of something deeper, something that spoke of promises neither of them needed to say out loud.

And for the first time in a long time, Izzie felt like she wasn't running from her feelings anymore. She was right where she belonged.