All Chapters of After Hours: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Chapter Ninety-One: Traces of MorningAlli’s POVThe morning light crept through the slats of her blinds, dancing across the worn hardwood floor like a slow unraveling dream. Alli blinked awake, her body aching in all the right places, wrapped in sheets that still smelled like him—like motor oil and cedar and summer heat.The space beside her was empty, but warm.She smiled, stretching lazily, letting herself relive the night for a moment longer before the real world came crashing back in. It hadn’t just been sex. God, no. It had been everything. Wild and desperate and holy. Johnny had touched her like he knew every part of her by heart, kissed her like it was the only language he ever needed to speak.And she had let him.Had begged for him.All of her, for him.Her heart thudded with the weight of it all.Somewhere down the hall, she heard the faint clatter of dishes—too heavy-handed to be John alone. She sat up, pulling the sheet around herself as she padded to the door and peeked

Chapter Ninety-Three: Her Father’s VoiceAlli’s POVThe letter felt like a heartbeat in her hand.She held it close as she stood by the window, staring out at the quiet street that wrapped around her life like a memory. Everything looked the same—the cracked pavement, the leaning mailbox, the overgrown wildflowers near the fence—but she had changed.And now, she had to decide what to do with the pieces left behind.Her dad had always known how to say the exact thing she didn’t know she needed to hear. Even after he was gone, he had found a way to speak right to the ache inside her chest.If that boy ever comes back…She exhaled slowly, blinking back the tears that had been threatening to spill again. Johnny had come back. And not just as a ghost from the past or a moment of weakness. He was here. Flesh and bone and stubborn devotion. He had shown up, unsure and trembling, and let her see him—not the bravado or the charm—but him.She folded the letter carefully and tucked it into the d

Chapter Ninety-Five: Unpacking ShadowsJohnny’s POVJohnny parked the truck just outside the fence line, gravel crunching under the tires as the early evening sun bathed the old farmhouse in gold.This was it.He was moving in.Not just crashing on the couch. Not staying over. Not passing through.Moving in.His bags sat behind the driver’s seat. A toolbox, a pair of boots, and a dresser he’d rebuilt from an old salvage job—all of it stacked and tied down in the bed. A man didn’t need much to start over. Just space to breathe and someone worth building around.And he had both now.Johnny climbed out and stood there for a moment, his thumb resting on the tailgate handle, his stomach tying itself in knots. It wasn’t nerves about Alli. No—he’d never felt more sure about her in his life.But something about unloading your life into a new place—it made everything feel permanent.He smiled as the screen door creaked open and Alli stepped out barefoot, holding a pair of lemonades, her messy

Chapter Ninety-Seven: A Different Kind of Twist Alli’s POVThe sun had barely crested the trees when the nausea hit.It wasn’t the slow, creeping kind that gave you time to prepare. No, this was a gut-punch. A sudden wave that forced her to bolt from the bed, palms sweaty, mouth dry, body shaking.She barely made it to the bathroom.Johnny was still asleep, sprawled across the bed in nothing but boxers, one arm stretched toward where she'd been moments ago. Peaceful. Gorgeous. Oblivious.She slammed the door shut behind her and collapsed to her knees, head over the toilet.Her stomach heaved.It wasn’t nerves. It wasn’t wine. It wasn’t even stress, though she had plenty of that to spare.It was something else.When it was over, she sat back against the wall, trying to catch her breath.Her heart pounded like a drumline in her chest. She hadn’t felt like that since— Her brain froze.No. No way.She grabbed the edge of the sink, pulled herself up on shaky legs, and stared into the mirr

Chapter One Hundred: The Ring and the SilenceJohnny’s POVThe bedroom was still, the only sound the faint hum of the fan overhead and the distant creak of the old house settling into the night. Johnny lay on his back, one arm behind his head, the other curled around the soft weight of Alli, her cheek against his chest, her leg draped over his. Her breath moved in time with his heartbeat, slow and steady.But he couldn’t sleep.His eyes were fixed on her hand—resting lightly on his bare stomach. And on the ring.That damn ring.The same one he’d held onto for five years. The same one he’d pulled from his pocket just days ago with sweaty palms and a heart hammering in his throat. He hadn’t even planned it then. It wasn’t rehearsed. But the way she looked at him that morning—messy hair, coffee in hand, wearing his old T-shirt like she’d always belonged here—he knew it was time.And she’d said yes.Not just yes to him. Yes to a future. Yes to building a life. Yes to letting him be what h