20 Days In His Bedroom

Chapter Forty Nine

Kyle's POV

I tried to keep her calm and comfortable until she finally drifted off to sleep. She looked so peaceful—like an angel or a sleeping baby, all soft and vulnerable. I couldn't stop staring. I love her. If only she knew how much. Every day, my feelings grow deeper. She's changed everything about me. Before her, I'd be out drinking, chasing after meaningless girls, pretending life was some endless party. But now? She's flipped my world upside down—and I'm not mad about it. If my mom knew how much I love Twyla, she'd probably force me to stay with her forever.

For me, there's no doubt. She's the one. I just want to hear her say it out loud. I want to meet her family, too—just as much as she wants to find them. I want to tell them how their daughter changed my life, how she made me believe in love again.

Suddenly, she stirred, rubbing her eyes as she woke.

"Did I sleep that long?" she asked groggily.

I rolled my eyes with a grin. "Yeah, like two days."

She smiled softly but didn't look at me.

"Is your mom still around?"

Oh God. Back to the family drama.

"I have no idea," I said, shrugging. "Twy, I love my mom and all, but I need them to get that I'm not a kid anymore."

"That has nothing to do with it, Kyle," she said quietly. "You're not a kid, but they still want you close. Imagine if they found you and you didn't want to come back. What are you even doing here?"

"Waiting with you?" I teased, smirking. "Talking like you can handle this without me." She rolled her eyes, but it was true. Without me, she was helpless.

"Well..." she smiled, "No, I can't. But I don't wa—"

"You can just shut up, right?" I cut her off with a grin. I loved her so much, I just wanted her close.

My phone buzzed.

"Oh, give it here." I said. She handed it over, curious.

"Yeah, it's me." I answered, trying to keep my voice steady. "Really? Where? Are you sure? Okay, okay."

Her face shifted instantly—panic flashing in her eyes.

"What?!" she exclaimed.

I couldn't believe it. They found her parents. It felt unreal.

"What?" Her eyes were wide with excitement—but also worry.

"Nothing." I shrugged, trying to play it cool.

Her hopeful smile faltered and faded into disappointment.

"They just found your parents," I said as loud as I could, maybe too loudly. I don't think I've ever been this happy.

"What? No! Don't joke." She grabbed my hands, voice trembling.

"I swear." I pulled her into a tight hug as tears welled in her eyes. I'd expected this—her breaking down—and it broke me too.

"I promised we'd find them," I whispered into her ear.

She looked up at me, her voice soft but real: "I love you."

"What?" I pulled away, confused.

"Nothing," she shrugged.

"No, you said something. Say it again." I pressed, hope flickering.

"I just said I love you," she chuckled, playfully mocking me. I laughed and hugged her again.

"Marry me, please," I said, half-serious, half-joking.

She laughed and teased back, "Well, now you have to ask my parents first."

God, she was glowing. So happy now that her parents were found.

"Wait—where exactly did they find them?" she asked, still smiling.

"Washington. We're going to travel."

I grabbed my laptop right away—no time to waste—and booked two tickets for us.

"Done," I showed her the confirmation.

"Did you tell your mom?" she asked, biting her lip.

"Of course not," I chuckled. She knew I hadn't called anyone yet.

"Kyle, call her and let her know," she said, rubbing my back gently.

"You can't tell me what to do until you're my wife. Until then, mind your own business." I raised my hand, stopping her teasing.

She grabbed a cushion and threw it at me.

"Okay, okay," I smirked.

She wasn't done.

I caught her, pulling her onto the bed, holding both her hands to keep her still.

She was breathtaking. Natural beauty—no makeup, no pretenses, nothing like the girls who plaster on layers and dress just to get attention. She was real, different, impossible to compare.

"Don't kiss me," she whispered.

"Too late," I whispered back.

"Kyle, I swear—"

She started yelling.

"Fine!" I shouted, letting go of her hands.

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