cup-of-jonas

[cup-of-jonas]

Hey Beautiful

Chapters 1-4 out now on Wattpad @Cup_of_Jonas

[cup-of-jonas]

UPDATED

Walls (New Series) Joe Jonas

Please follow me on Wattpad @Cup-of-Jonas

✨Official Masterlist✨

🔥She works for him. He knows better But he can't keep his hands off her.

🔥 Chapter One

🔥Chapter Two

🔥 Chapter Three

🔥 Chapter Four

🔥 Chapter Five

🔥 Chapter Six

🔥Chapter Seven

🔥 Chapter Eight

🔥 Chapter Nine

🔥 Chapter Ten

🔥 Chapter Eleven

🔥 Chapter Twelve

🔥 Chapter Thirteen

🔥 Chapter Fourteen

🔥 Chapter Fifteen

🔥 Chapter Sixteen

🔥 Chapter Seventeen

🔥 Chapter Eighteen

🔥 Chapter Nineteen

🔥 Chapter Twenty

🔥 Chapter Twenty-One

🔥 Chapter Twenty-Two

[cup-of-jonas]

Walls Chapter Twenty-Two: Candlelight on Wheels

✨Masterlist✨

The bus door hissed shut, muffling Fenway’s roar into nothing but memory. The hum of the engine rolled beneath their feet, steady and low. Overhead lights glowed soft gold across the narrow aisle, warming the edges of silver rails and fabric seats. Claire pressed her back against the cool panel by the door, still clutching her clipboard like it could slow her racing pulse. Her breath came fast, laughter tangled in it, the sound of adrenaline refusing to settle.

Joe leaned against the opposite wall, curls damp and wild, shirt clinging to him from sweat and confetti. His grin was boyish, reckless, and brighter than the city lights flickering past the windows. He tugged her closer with one hand at her waist, kissing her forehead quickly before pulling back just enough to catch her eyes.

“Good,” he said, voice low, still catching his breath. “Oh thank goodness, our dinner was delivered. I knew we’d be starving after pretty much skipping lunch, so I ordered us something for the road.”

Claire blinked at him, startled, and then broke into a disbelieving laugh. “Wow, all of your eggs in one basket for convincing me to come with you?”

Joe laughed too, already crossing to the small kitchenette built into the side of the bus. He lifted two brown paper bags onto the counter with a flourish. “Yeah, I guess you could say that. I definitely didn’t consider you saying no.” His grin widened, a flash of teeth as he dug into the bags. “I mean, come on?”

“I can’t resist.” She shook her head, smiling despite herself, as he reached into a cabinet for plates like he lived here which, technically, he did. Joe unwrapped the containers and, with a kind of exaggerated care, spooned food onto two clean plates. He carried them to the tiny table by the window like it was a five-star restaurant, not a moving bus.

He rummaged again and pulled down a pair of wine glasses, filling each with a careful pour. He set one in front of her and she smiled, impressed at how sweet he was. “For you, my lady.”

Claire smiled, her heart tugging at his effort. “Wow, Joe… this looks and smells incredible. Thank you so much.” Watching him play host, she felt her chest ache in the best way. “You’re so thoughtful,” she added softly.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Joe said suddenly, snapping his fingers like he’d forgotten the most important detail. He dug into a drawer, rifling past utensils until he came up with a small white candle and a box of matches. With a boyish flourish, he set the candle in the middle of the table, struck a match, and lit it. The tiny flame flickered, casting warm light across his face. “Now it’s perfect.”

Claire’s lips parted, caught between awe and laughter. “Joe… you’re so unbelievably thoughtful. And sweet.”

He leaned back in his chair, pleased with himself, but his smile softened when he saw how her eyes had gone tender. “Anything for you,” he said simply, and meant it.

Her breath caught. For a moment, all she could do was look at him across the glow of the candle, this man who made chaos feel like comfort.

Joe lifted his glass, tilting it toward her. “To two days off together in Philadelphia.”

Claire lifted hers, their fingers brushing briefly as they touched rims. “Two days,” she echoed, the words trembling a little with disbelief.

They drank, eyes holding over the tops of their glasses. The hum of the engine faded into the background. The world outside the windows moved on, but inside, the table felt like an island just the two of them, a candle, and the sweet, terrifying possibility of whatever this was becoming.

Joe smirked, setting his glass down with a little clink. “So,” he said, settling his chin in his hand like a man ready to listen all night, “tell me more about your childhood.”

Claire tilted her head, caught off guard. “My childhood?” She said cutting into her food.

“Yeah,” Joe said, leaning forward on his elbow, eyes glinting in the candlelight.

She smiled, shaking her head, but the warmth in his eyes nudged her open. Both of them began eating. “Well… I was really, really shy when I was little. The kind of quiet where teachers had to remind me to speak my needs. I never wanted to get in trouble, I just wanted to do things right.”

Joe hummed thoughtfully, his grin playful. “Shy Claire,” he teased gently, picturing it. “I can see that.”

“It’s true,” she laughed softly. “But I was also girly, outgoing in my own way. I loved dresses and bows, but I was very quiet. Still… I was always observing. Watching people, figuring them out. I think that part’s never gone away.”

His smile softened, reverent now. “And what started your love of photography?”

She paused, her thumb brushing the rim of her wine glass. “My dad… he passed away when I was seventeen. That was really hard. He was the kind of man who kept the house loud with laughter, so when he was gone it felt… empty.” Her voice dropped, quiet but steady. “My mom raised us after that. She’s in Arizona now, with my younger brother. My older brother lives in Georgia.”

Joe’s expression shifted, tender and protective all at once. “I am so sorry, Claire.” His voice was gentle, stripped of all the charm and jokes. He reached across the table, covering her hand with his. “That’s a lot for someone so young. I couldn’t even imagine.” He said rubbing her hand. Tears glossing over his eyes. “Sorry.” He said wiping his eyes.

She smiled noticing and swallowed, squeezing his fingers back. “It’s completely okay. It made me grow up fast. But my Dad’s passing also taught me how important and fragile life is. And how important it is to hold onto the people you love.“

Something flickered across Joe’s face at that. He thought about how her words mirrored everything he felt when he looked at her the way she steadied him, the way she made the chaos make sense.

“You’re so amazing, you know that?” he said softly.

Her cheeks warmed, and she gave a small laugh to break the intensity. “I swear I’m not, uh now I’m getting all sappy.”

He grinned, leaning back in his chair with a sparkle that was pure Leo fire. “It’s okay. You’re stuck with me being sappy for at least the next forty-eight hours.”

Claire laughed, shaking her head, but her heart thrummed wildly at the thought.

She drew a slow breath and went on, her voice steadier now. “I had a good childhood, though. My parents were married. My brothers and I were close. We traveled a lot as a family, road trips mostly, sometimes further. I think that’s why I fell in love with seeing the world. My dad was the one who gave me my first camera. I was ten, maybe. And the second I held it, I was obsessed. I loved the idea that I could capture something real a smile, a sky, the way the light hit a street and keep it forever. That moment didn’t have to fade.”

Her gaze dropped to the candle, its flame small but unshakable. “When he died, I realized even more how precious that was. Life comes in moments. That’s all it is a string of them. And if you’re lucky, you get to keep some. In photos, in memory, or in your heart.”

Her words hung between them, fragile and glowing like glass.

Joe stared at her, wrecked in the best way. His thumb stroked the back of her hand, reverent. “That’s beautiful Claire. You’re a beautiful strong person. And I don’t mean the kind of beautiful that fades in a picture. I mean the kind that shines bright, makes someone stop and feel lucky just to be in the same room.”

Claire blinked, her breath catching at the honesty in his tone. She looked down at her fork and the back up at Joe. The both smiled at each other.

The candle flickered, painting his face in gold, and for a heartbeat Claire thought he looked like the kind of man who could undo her completely.

And that terrified her almost as much as it thrilled her.

[cup-of-jonas]

Jonas Brothers, The Tour, 2023

[cup-of-jonas]

Hey Beautiful (NEW) Joe Jonas Series - Teaser

Might be a Wattpad Exclusive @Cup_of_Jonas 🧡

I am just going to leave this right here and see what you think. Thoughts? 🧡✨☕️

[cup-of-jonas]

Dates with Joe #8

✨Masterlist✨

“All the Light Between Us”

A Joe Jonas One-Shot

The hotel room was quiet in a way he hated. Not the cozy kind of quiet, the kind he’d grown to love when she was wrapped in a hoodie on the other end of the couch, nose in a book, toes tucked under his thigh. No, this was empty quiet. The kind that echoed.

Joe ran a hand through his curls and sighed, flopping back onto the bed with his phone resting on his chest. The screen was still dark. No text yet. No call. He had three missed notifications—group chat chaos, tour schedule reminders, and one photo from Kevin of a cheese plate labeled “for your moody ass”—but not from her.

She had class today. In person. First time back on campus all month.

He hated it.

Not because he didn’t want her to succeed—God, he was so damn proud of her—but because she wasn’t here. Not in his dressing room. Not tangled in the sheets next to him. Not laughing in the front row or slipping little notes into his guitar case like she sometimes did.

She was just… gone.

His phone screen lit up.

Incoming FaceTime: My Girl 🩵

He didn’t even bother pretending he waited more than half a second to answer.

“Hey,” she said, appearing on his screen with wind in her hair and sunshine on her cheeks.

His heart tugged. Hard.

“Hi little Darlin,” he breathed, smiling like an idiot. “You outside?”

“Just got out of class. I’m walking to my car. Where are you?”

“I’m outside too, I am at my hotel in Detroit.” Joe propped himself up on his elbow, adjusting the camera so she could see his smirk properly. “Did you tell all your classmates you’ve got a rockstar boyfriend who’s miserable without you?”

She laughed, and the sound made his ribs ache. “No. I said I was dating a dork who sends me voice memos of unreleased lyrics at 2 a.m.”

“Romantic,” he said, eyes twinkling. “You miss me at all?”

She tilted her head. “A little.”

Joe gasped. “A little?

“No babe, I am just kidding. I miss you a lot, Joe. Like really really miss you. I was crying so much last night.” She admitted. “You rehearsing today?”

He nodded. “Awwww baby, don’t cry. I am always one call or one FaceTime away. Ugh I have it most of the day today, it’s such a long set. Lots of pyro. And me and Nick keep arguing over dumb shit but it’s fine. And I have to admit.. none of it feels right without you here.”

She buckled her seatbelt, frowning slightly. “You’re doing amazing. You always do.”

“I know,” he said. Then, softer, “It just doesn’t feel as fun without you singing along in the front row.”

Her expression softened, eyes meeting his through the screen like she could reach through it and run her fingers through his hair. “Two more days,” she whispered. “Then I’m yours again.”

“You’re always mine.”

There was silence then, good silence. Loaded silence. The kind that said I love you without having to say it.

She blinked. “You okay?”

Joe nodded. “Just…” He looked down. His voice dropped, vulnerable. “I really miss you too. And it is affecting me.”

She smiled sadly. “I miss you too. It really really sucks. If I have to do in person classes again I’m dropping.”

“Right! Why does it have to be in person? You’re an online student. I miss waking up next to you. I miss the sound you make when you stretch in the morning. I miss the way you steal half my hoodie and act like it’s yours. I miss your chapstick kisses and your notebook always open next to mine.” He paused. “I miss us.”

She exhaled, shaky. “Me too.”

Joe sat up straighter, angling the phone so she could see the blue sky behind him now that he stepped onto the hotel balcony. “I know I’m being needy. I just… every night after the show, I look for you. Out in the crowd. Backstage. In my bed. And when you’re not there, it’s like I don’t know what to do with all this love I’m carrying around.”

She was quiet again. Listening. Taking him in.

He glanced at her on the screen. She looked tired. Gorgeous. Real. His.

“I know you’ve got your stuff too,” he added quickly. “School. Work. Life. And I’m so proud of you, babe. I just… I’m counting the hours, that’s all.”

Her smile broke through like sunlight. “Me too, Joe. I never want to be away from you this long ever again.”

Joe lowered his voice. “You wanna do dinner tonight? Like, real FaceTime date style? I’ll light a candle. Order your favorite. We can pretend we’re sitting across from each other.”

“I’d love that,” she whispered.

“Cool,” he said, trying to play it cool and failing miserably. “And after dinner, I can read you a chapter of that book we started, or sing you to sleep. Your pick.”

She shook her head, eyes crinkling. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

Joe leaned closer to the screen. “Don’t cry, baby. We will be together again soon.”

“Soon,” she echoed.

They lingered in the moment, neither one wanting to hang up, hearts stretching across the distance between them like thread pulled tight.

Finally, she said, “I should drive before I get too sappy.”

“Too late,” he grinned. “Drive safe. Text me when you’re home.”

She nodded. “You better FaceTime me later. Candle and all.” She said with a giggled and a smile that make him blush and smile right back. She blew a kiss and Joe caught it and sent one back.

“You got it.” He winked. “Hey..”

She paused.

He looked at her one last time, soft and sure. “I wish I was kissing you right now instead of this stupid screen.”

Her lips parted, breath catching.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you too.”

And with that, the screen went dark, but the feeling lingered like perfume in the air. Joe stayed out on the balcony a little longer, heart full and aching, counting the hours.

She’d be back soon.

And when she was, he swore he’d never let her out of his arms again.

[cup-of-jonas]

Track Eleven: Waste No Time

✨Masterlist✨

18+🔥 Because when it’s her, he knows: he doesn’t want to waste no time.

The lock clicked past midnight, and Joe stepped into the apartment with his whole body aching. The kind of ache that came from a stage high burning off and leaving nothing but exhaustion in its place. His curls were damp with sweat, his throat raw from singing, his shoulders heavy with the weight of another night.

He kicked off his boots, tugged his shirt over his head, and sighed into the silence. Normally, he hated this part the quiet that waited for him, too loud after hours of music and lights. Tonight, though, something felt different.

The hallway wasn’t dark. A soft glow spilled from the bedroom.

He frowned, heart picking up speed. She never left the light on.

Padding forward in nothing but his jeans, he pushed the door open. The lamplight painted everything in gold, warm and soft. And then his eyes found her.

His chest tightened.

She was curled in the sheets, blanket slipping down to reveal a flash of red lace across her shoulder. Red lace. His breath caught so hard it hurt.

Joe froze at the edge of the bed, drinking her in. Every curve, every slow breath, every hint of bare skin framed by the lingerie. He dragged a hand over his face, already undone, his heart hammering like he was nineteen again and seeing her for the first time.

God, she’s going to kill me.

He stripped the rest of the way down, left in just his boxers, and slid under the covers. His arm slid around her waist, pulling her back into his chest, his lips brushing the warm curve of her shoulder.

“Baby,” he whispered, voice rough with exhaustion and awe, “you left the light on.”

She turned just enough for him to catch the slow, dangerous curve of her smile.

“Maybe I wanted you to see.”

Joe’s throat went dry. His hand skimmed down to the lace at her hip, fingertips stroking the edge. Heat coiled low in his stomach at the feel of it beneath his fingers. He pressed his mouth to her shoulder again, groaning softly.

“Red lace,” he muttered, breathless. “Are you trying to kill me?”

Her laugh was quiet, sultry, full of intent. “Maybe I’m trying to remind you.”

The fight from earlier flickered across his mind raised voices, doors closed too hard but it dissolved instantly as he stared at her. All that mattered was this moment, this light, this woman in his arms wearing lingerie that felt like sin and salvation all at once.

Joe’s lips found hers before he could stop himself, desperate, apologetic, hungry. And when she kissed him back, tugging him closer, his whole body shuddered with relief.

“I feel like I don’t wanna waste no time,” he rasped into her mouth.

“Then don’t,” she whispered back.

Her lips were soft, insistent, stealing the last of his resistance. Joe groaned into her mouth, dragging her closer until her body pressed flush against his. The fight was gone, burned away in seconds. All he tasted was her, all he felt was heat, and all he knew was that he couldn’t let go.

He rolled her beneath him, bracing on his elbows, his gaze catching on the red lace stretched across her curves. The straps framed her like firelight, and he swore he had never seen anything so perfect in his life.

“God,” he whispered, eyes roaming her body like prayer. “You’re so beautiful. Tonight you’re mine.”

Her gasp lit him up inside. Joe kissed her neck, then lower, dragging his teeth gently across her collarbone, his hand sliding down to cup her breast through the lace. Her back arched higher, and he felt the rush of satisfaction flood him, knowing it was him who made her tremble.

Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging until his groan vibrated against her skin. Then she pushed against his chest, flipping him onto his back. Joe’s laugh came out broken, wrecked, like she’d stolen every ounce of control from him.

“Oh, baby,” he groaned, head tipping back into the pillow. “You’re dangerous.”

She straddled him, red lace clinging to her body like flame. His hands gripped her thighs tight, the sight of her above him punching the air from his lungs.

“Didn’t you say,” she teased, rolling her hips slowly against him, “that you don’t wanna waste time?”

Joe’s jaw tightened, his eyes nearly rolling back. “Fuck. You’re gonna ruin me.”

Her wicked smile told him she wanted exactly that. She bucked her hips against his hand as he slid between them, stroking her slowly, teasing, feeling how wet she already was. Her giggle hit him like lightning.

He shut his eyes for a beat, savoring the way she squirmed for him, then opened them again because he couldn’t miss a second. Watching her was the only thing that mattered. Her hair brushed his chest, her lace shifted with every move, her touch suddenly wrapping around him and stroking him in return. Joe’s body arched, a guttural groan spilling from his throat.

“Jesus,” he gasped. “Baby, you’re gonna make me lose it.”

She kissed his neck, her nails dragging lightly down his chest, and his fingers slipped further inside her. She was a vision above him, dangerous and holy all at once.

“Mmm, baby, you look like heaven,” he rasped, his voice breaking. “You feel like it too.”

Her hand left him, sliding to his chest for balance as she got into position. Joe’s pulse raced, his hand moving to stroke himself, desperate, worshiping the red lace on her body.

Then she sank down in one sudden movement, taking him all at once.

“Fuck, baby.” His head hit the pillow, a strangled moan tearing from him. “You feel like heaven around me.”

Her pace quickened, her hands pressing into his chest, nails dragging lightly over his skin. Joe’s body trembled beneath her, his hips lifting to meet hers with urgent rhythm. He was lost in her heat, her defiance, her love.

“That’s it,” he rasped, pushing the lace aside just enough to feel her bare against him. “Ride me, baby. Just like that.”

Every roll of her hips stole more of his strength. Every gasp from her lips felt like salvation.

“I’m yours,” he groaned, eyes locked on her. “All yours. You own me.”

She moved faster, harder, and he felt it building sharp and hot. His chest heaved, his grip tightened, his voice broke.

“You feel like heaven,” he gasped. “I’m not gonna last—”

Her name ripped from his throat as he came undone, body arching, every nerve lit on fire. He held her tight, whispering her name like a prayer against her skin.

But even as the aftershocks rolled through him, his body ached for her still.

Joe’s instinct roared. He gripped her waist and rolled, pinning her beneath him, his mouth crashing against hers in a kiss that was all teeth and need.

“Not done with you,” he panted, pulling back to look in her eyes. “I can’t. Not yet.”

He shifted her onto her stomach, guiding her hips up until she was on her knees, ass in the air, red lace stretched tight over her curves.

Joe froze, breath caught.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered, dragging a hand down her back, pausing at the swell of her ass. “Baby, you’re killing me. Look at you.”

The lace framed her perfectly, obscene and beautiful all at once. He pushed it aside with shaking fingers, the sight of her bare skin making his vision blur.

“You’re mine,” he growled, voice breaking. “All mine.”

He slammed into her in one hard thrust, both of them crying out at the same time. The sharp moan that tore from her throat shattered whatever control he had left.

Joe gripped her hips tight, driving into her again and again, every movement deep and desperate. The view wrecked him: her arching back, the lace slipping across her skin, her fingers clawing the sheets as she begged for more.

“Fuck, yes,” she gasped, pushing back against him. “Don’t stop, Joe. Don’t you dare stop.”

“Never,” he groaned, slamming harder, sweat dripping from his temple. “I’ll never stop. You feel too fucking good. And this view… fuck.”

Every thrust dragged him closer to the edge, his heart hammering with the truth he couldn’t hold back.

“I love you,” he choked out, voice breaking. “God, I love you. I don’t wanna waste a second without you.”

Her body clenched around him, pulling him over the edge with her. Joe lost it completely, spilling into her with a guttural moan, clutching her as if she might vanish.

The room shook with their release, raw and messy and real, the kind of moment that stripped them down to nothing but need and love.

Joe collapsed against her back, pressing frantic kisses to her shoulder, his body still shuddering. “You’re heaven,” he whispered into her skin. “My heaven.”

Her voice was soft, wrecked, smiling. “I love you too.”

The storm ebbed, leaving only their breathing and the hum of the lamp. Joe eased out of her carefully and pulled her into the sheets with him. She collapsed against his chest, hair sticking to her damp skin, red lace tangled across her body.

He brushed it back gently, reverent. “You okay, baby?” he whispered, voice raw but tender.

She hummed against him, cheek pressed to his heartbeat. “Better than okay.”

Relief swelled in him, so strong it almost hurt. He wrapped her tighter in his arms, pressing kisses into her hair, her temple, her cheek. Little scattered kisses that felt like prayers.

“I’m sorry for earlier,” he murmured. “For wasting time when all I want is you.”

Her eyes lifted to his, soft in the lamplight. “Then don’t waste it. We always find our way back here.”

Joe kissed her again, slow this time, lips lingering. He tucked the blanket over her shoulder, their legs tangling instinctively.

“I’m never letting go,” he said into the hush of the room. “You feel like heaven. You’re my whole world.”

Her smile brushed his lips as sleep tugged her under, her hand curling into his hair. “Then stay right here with me.”

He kissed her once more, soft and sweet. His chest finally relaxed, her warmth pressed into him, her breathing steady.

And as sleep claimed him, Joe thought the same words again, the ones that had lived in his chest since the moment he saw her in that glow of red lace.

Waste No Time.

[cup-of-jonas]

[cup-of-jonas]

Track Eleven: Waste No Time

✨Masterlist✨

18+🔥 Because when it’s her, he knows: he doesn’t want to waste no time.

The lock clicked past midnight, and Joe stepped into the apartment with his whole body aching. The kind of ache that came from a stage high burning off and leaving nothing but exhaustion in its place. His curls were damp with sweat, his throat raw from singing, his shoulders heavy with the weight of another night.

He kicked off his boots, tugged his shirt over his head, and sighed into the silence. Normally, he hated this part the quiet that waited for him, too loud after hours of music and lights. Tonight, though, something felt different.

The hallway wasn’t dark. A soft glow spilled from the bedroom.

He frowned, heart picking up speed. She never left the light on.

Padding forward in nothing but his jeans, he pushed the door open. The lamplight painted everything in gold, warm and soft. And then his eyes found her.

His chest tightened.

She was curled in the sheets, blanket slipping down to reveal a flash of red lace across her shoulder. Red lace. His breath caught so hard it hurt.

Joe froze at the edge of the bed, drinking her in. Every curve, every slow breath, every hint of bare skin framed by the lingerie. He dragged a hand over his face, already undone, his heart hammering like he was nineteen again and seeing her for the first time.

God, she’s going to kill me.

He stripped the rest of the way down, left in just his boxers, and slid under the covers. His arm slid around her waist, pulling her back into his chest, his lips brushing the warm curve of her shoulder.

“Baby,” he whispered, voice rough with exhaustion and awe, “you left the light on.”

She turned just enough for him to catch the slow, dangerous curve of her smile.

“Maybe I wanted you to see.”

Joe’s throat went dry. His hand skimmed down to the lace at her hip, fingertips stroking the edge. Heat coiled low in his stomach at the feel of it beneath his fingers. He pressed his mouth to her shoulder again, groaning softly.

“Red lace,” he muttered, breathless. “Are you trying to kill me?”

Her laugh was quiet, sultry, full of intent. “Maybe I’m trying to remind you.”

The fight from earlier flickered across his mind raised voices, doors closed too hard but it dissolved instantly as he stared at her. All that mattered was this moment, this light, this woman in his arms wearing lingerie that felt like sin and salvation all at once.

Joe’s lips found hers before he could stop himself, desperate, apologetic, hungry. And when she kissed him back, tugging him closer, his whole body shuddered with relief.

“I feel like I don’t wanna waste no time,” he rasped into her mouth.

“Then don’t,” she whispered back.

Her lips were soft, insistent, stealing the last of his resistance. Joe groaned into her mouth, dragging her closer until her body pressed flush against his. The fight was gone, burned away in seconds. All he tasted was her, all he felt was heat, and all he knew was that he couldn’t let go.

He rolled her beneath him, bracing on his elbows, his gaze catching on the red lace stretched across her curves. The straps framed her like firelight, and he swore he had never seen anything so perfect in his life.

“God,” he whispered, eyes roaming her body like prayer. “You’re so beautiful. Tonight you’re mine.”

Her gasp lit him up inside. Joe kissed her neck, then lower, dragging his teeth gently across her collarbone, his hand sliding down to cup her breast through the lace. Her back arched higher, and he felt the rush of satisfaction flood him, knowing it was him who made her tremble.

Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging until his groan vibrated against her skin. Then she pushed against his chest, flipping him onto his back. Joe’s laugh came out broken, wrecked, like she’d stolen every ounce of control from him.

“Oh, baby,” he groaned, head tipping back into the pillow. “You’re dangerous.”

She straddled him, red lace clinging to her body like flame. His hands gripped her thighs tight, the sight of her above him punching the air from his lungs.

“Didn’t you say,” she teased, rolling her hips slowly against him, “that you don’t wanna waste time?”

Joe’s jaw tightened, his eyes nearly rolling back. “Fuck. You’re gonna ruin me.”

Her wicked smile told him she wanted exactly that. She bucked her hips against his hand as he slid between them, stroking her slowly, teasing, feeling how wet she already was. Her giggle hit him like lightning.

He shut his eyes for a beat, savoring the way she squirmed for him, then opened them again because he couldn’t miss a second. Watching her was the only thing that mattered. Her hair brushed his chest, her lace shifted with every move, her touch suddenly wrapping around him and stroking him in return. Joe’s body arched, a guttural groan spilling from his throat.

“Jesus,” he gasped. “Baby, you’re gonna make me lose it.”

She kissed his neck, her nails dragging lightly down his chest, and his fingers slipped further inside her. She was a vision above him, dangerous and holy all at once.

“Mmm, baby, you look like heaven,” he rasped, his voice breaking. “You feel like it too.”

Her hand left him, sliding to his chest for balance as she got into position. Joe’s pulse raced, his hand moving to stroke himself, desperate, worshiping the red lace on her body.

Then she sank down in one sudden movement, taking him all at once.

“Fuck, baby.” His head hit the pillow, a strangled moan tearing from him. “You feel like heaven around me.”

Her pace quickened, her hands pressing into his chest, nails dragging lightly over his skin. Joe’s body trembled beneath her, his hips lifting to meet hers with urgent rhythm. He was lost in her heat, her defiance, her love.

“That’s it,” he rasped, pushing the lace aside just enough to feel her bare against him. “Ride me, baby. Just like that.”

Every roll of her hips stole more of his strength. Every gasp from her lips felt like salvation.

“I’m yours,” he groaned, eyes locked on her. “All yours. You own me.”

She moved faster, harder, and he felt it building sharp and hot. His chest heaved, his grip tightened, his voice broke.

“You feel like heaven,” he gasped. “I’m not gonna last—”

Her name ripped from his throat as he came undone, body arching, every nerve lit on fire. He held her tight, whispering her name like a prayer against her skin.

But even as the aftershocks rolled through him, his body ached for her still.

Joe’s instinct roared. He gripped her waist and rolled, pinning her beneath him, his mouth crashing against hers in a kiss that was all teeth and need.

“Not done with you,” he panted, pulling back to look in her eyes. “I can’t. Not yet.”

He shifted her onto her stomach, guiding her hips up until she was on her knees, ass in the air, red lace stretched tight over her curves.

Joe froze, breath caught.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered, dragging a hand down her back, pausing at the swell of her ass. “Baby, you’re killing me. Look at you.”

The lace framed her perfectly, obscene and beautiful all at once. He pushed it aside with shaking fingers, the sight of her bare skin making his vision blur.

“You’re mine,” he growled, voice breaking. “All mine.”

He slammed into her in one hard thrust, both of them crying out at the same time. The sharp moan that tore from her throat shattered whatever control he had left.

Joe gripped her hips tight, driving into her again and again, every movement deep and desperate. The view wrecked him: her arching back, the lace slipping across her skin, her fingers clawing the sheets as she begged for more.

“Fuck, yes,” she gasped, pushing back against him. “Don’t stop, Joe. Don’t you dare stop.”

“Never,” he groaned, slamming harder, sweat dripping from his temple. “I’ll never stop. You feel too fucking good. And this view… fuck.”

Every thrust dragged him closer to the edge, his heart hammering with the truth he couldn’t hold back.

“I love you,” he choked out, voice breaking. “God, I love you. I don’t wanna waste a second without you.”

Her body clenched around him, pulling him over the edge with her. Joe lost it completely, spilling into her with a guttural moan, clutching her as if she might vanish.

The room shook with their release, raw and messy and real, the kind of moment that stripped them down to nothing but need and love.

Joe collapsed against her back, pressing frantic kisses to her shoulder, his body still shuddering. “You’re heaven,” he whispered into her skin. “My heaven.”

Her voice was soft, wrecked, smiling. “I love you too.”

The storm ebbed, leaving only their breathing and the hum of the lamp. Joe eased out of her carefully and pulled her into the sheets with him. She collapsed against his chest, hair sticking to her damp skin, red lace tangled across her body.

He brushed it back gently, reverent. “You okay, baby?” he whispered, voice raw but tender.

She hummed against him, cheek pressed to his heartbeat. “Better than okay.”

Relief swelled in him, so strong it almost hurt. He wrapped her tighter in his arms, pressing kisses into her hair, her temple, her cheek. Little scattered kisses that felt like prayers.

“I’m sorry for earlier,” he murmured. “For wasting time when all I want is you.”

Her eyes lifted to his, soft in the lamplight. “Then don’t waste it. We always find our way back here.”

Joe kissed her again, slow this time, lips lingering. He tucked the blanket over her shoulder, their legs tangling instinctively.

“I’m never letting go,” he said into the hush of the room. “You feel like heaven. You’re my whole world.”

Her smile brushed his lips as sleep tugged her under, her hand curling into his hair. “Then stay right here with me.”

He kissed her once more, soft and sweet. His chest finally relaxed, her warmth pressed into him, her breathing steady.

And as sleep claimed him, Joe thought the same words again, the ones that had lived in his chest since the moment he saw her in that glow of red lace.

Waste No Time.

[cup-of-jonas]

Walls Chapter Twenty-One: Do You Trust Me?

✨Masterlist✨

The last notes still echoed through Fenway, confetti raining like starlight as the crowd screamed their lungs out. Joe stood center stage, chest heaving, curls damp, the city's roar vibrating through him. He linked arms with Nick and Kevin for the bow, but his eyes searched for her.

There she was. Claire, standing in the shadows of the wing, headset slipped to her shoulders, clipboard clutched against her chest. For one heartbeat, the chaos fell away. She smiled. Not the professional one, not the guarded one. Something smaller, softer, meant only for him.

Thank you, he mouthed.

Always, her eyes said back.

The brothers jogged offstage, Kevin already tugging at his in-ears, Nick muttering about loadout. Joe slowed, pulse still racing, his body electric from the crowd. He spotted Claire turning toward the crew corridor.

"Hey, I'll see you in a few days, Joe," she said quickly, her voice even, but her eyes a little too bright.

"No," Joe said, catching her wrist before she could disappear. His grin curved reckless, his eyes burning with the same golden heat he carried onstage. "Come with me."

Her heart stuttered. "Joe..I."

"Please." His voice dropped, boyish charm giving way to something raw. "I don't want to not see you for two days."

The radio chatter, the rolling cases, the rush of post-show chaos blurred around them. Claire shook her head, breath unsteady. "You have this all planned out."

"Exactly," he whispered, tugging her closer. His grin was pure Leo, wild and irresistible.

Claire didn't know what to say and just kind of stood there for a beat before, he tipped his head with that ridiculous, dazzling grin, the one that undid her every time, the one that felt like an invitation to jump. "Do you trust me?" He said holding out his hand for her to take.

Her throat tightened. He said it with such reckless certainty that she felt herself tipping before she even answered.

"Yes," she whispered.

"Good," Joe said, triumphant. "Then run with me."

Her laugh broke out before she could stop it, breathless and nervous. "You're going to get us both in so much trouble."

He held her hand tight as they ran down the hallways and to the closest exit to the tour buses. Joe's eyes lit with mischief like he'd stolen the stars for her alone. "Then let's at least make it worth the trouble."

Before she could second-guess, he was pulling her through the corridor, running together hand in hand. Weaving past stadium crew, his hand warm and sure around hers. She stumbled once, laughing in disbelief. "Joe, wait..where are we even going?"

"Tour bus," he called back, curls bouncing as he dragged her faster. "Ours leaves in ten. Nick's still backstage arguing with a tuner. We've got a head start."

Her pulse thrashed like a drumline. "You're insane," she repeated, breathless, but her feet moved with his anyway.

"Yeah I know," he shot back over his shoulder, flashing her that grin again, "but so are you."

The night air hit cool as they burst out of the tunnel. Engines hummed, taillights glowed. Joe tightened his grip and laughed, the sound wild and free. "Come on, we're almost there!"

Claire laughed too, nerves and exhilaration tangling in her chest. She let herself be pulled, clipboard bouncing against her hip, adrenaline swallowing fear. She ran with him across the lot, hand in hand, as if the whole city might chase them down.

They reached the bus steps just as the door hissed open. Joe turned back to her, eyes gleaming with triumph and something deeper. "We've got this," he said, voice low, intimate. "We made it, ladies first."

The got into the tour bus as fast at they could. The bus door sealed shut behind them with a soft hiss, muffling the chaos outside. The engine rumbled low beneath their feet. Overhead lights glowed dim and golden, washing the narrow aisle in warmth. Both of them lost for breath and words. Giggling with each other as they gasped for air from running such a far distance. Joe pulled Clair close to him caressing her as they stood in the door way both giggling as they looked at each other breathlessly. He places a sweet kiss to her forehead. "Thank you for trusting me." He laughed.

Claire's back pressed against the cool metal railing, breath catching as she looked at him sweat-damp curls, lips still swollen from the show, eyes so alive it made her dizzy. Somewhere inside, a part of her whispered danger, but louder still was the one that whispered yes. And Joe's grin softened into something that felt like fate.

Claire pressed her back to the wall just inside, clutching her clipboard to her chest like it could slow her racing heart. Her breath came fast, laughter still trembling in it. "Joe... what did we just do?"

He leaned against the opposite wall, curls damp, shirt clinging to him, grinning like he'd just stolen fire from the gods. "We ran away." His voice was breathless, boyish, triumphant.

Her laugh broke out again, softer this time, disbelief curling into something warmer. "My god, I thought for sure we were going to get caught."

He pushed off the wall, closing the space between them in two strides. His hand slid around her waist, tugging her gently against him. "Yeah," he murmured, eyes dark and golden all at once. "But you're here. With me. Which means you might be just as insane."

Claire's pulse jumped. Her clipboard slipped from her fingers, forgotten, clattering against the carpet. Joe chuckled, low in his throat, and nudged his forehead against hers. "Told you," he whispered, lips brushing her hairline, "we don't wait."

Her hands found his chest, steadying herself, steadying him. She could still hear the echo of the crowd in her bones, but here, in the hum of the bus, it felt like another world. Quiet. Close. Too close.

"Joe..." she whispered, not quite a warning, not quite a plea.

"Claire," he answered, softer now. He pulled back just enough to look at her fully. His grin faltered, replaced by something raw. "You're going to wreck me."

Her breath caught. His honesty hit harder than the kiss she knew was coming.

Before she could speak, his mouth found hers again slower this time, not wild like before, but deep and deliberate. The kind of kiss that felt like a promise. His hand slid up her back, fingers tangling in her hair, and she melted, her arms curling around his neck.

The couch at the far end of the bus beckoned like gravity. Joe guided her there without breaking the kiss, his laugh rumbling when they stumbled over the narrow step. They collapsed together, her half in his lap, his hands framing her face like she was something holy.

When they finally pulled apart for air, foreheads pressed together, both of them smiling like fools, Claire whispered, "We're going to get caught."

Joe shook his head, curls brushing her temple, that reckless grin breaking free again. "Not anymore. Not Tonight, you're all mine for two full days." He smiled.

Her chest tightened, heat flooding through her, because for the first time she let herself believe it. She wasn't just his assistant. She wasn't just someone passing through. She was the secret he couldn't stop running toward.

Claire didn't falter her gaze up at Joe. She stood on her tip toes and urgently closed the space between them by placing her lips to his. He leaned down more intensifying the kiss. His hands find the small of her back. The other hand cradling her neck and his fingers weaved in her hair.

The bus lurched gently as it pulled from the lot, carrying them into the night. They both giggled from starting to lose their balance from the motion causing their kiss break. Claire rested her head against his chest, still trying to catch her breath. Joe pressed a kiss to her hair, soft and reverent.Neither spoke for a long while. They didn't need to. The hum of the engine, the warmth of his arm around her, the ghost of his smile against her hair this was enough. For now, they had stolen a piece of forever.

✨ I hope you are enjoying this series so far. Let me know what you think! ✨☕️ Next update, more spice or more fluff? Let me know.

[cup-of-jonas]

6 chapter updates ✨☕️ Let me know what you think!

Walls (New Series) Joe Jonas

Please follow me on Wattpad @Cup-of-Jonas

✨Official Masterlist✨

🔥She works for him. He knows better But he can't keep his hands off her.

🔥 Chapter One

🔥Chapter Two

🔥 Chapter Three

🔥 Chapter Four

🔥 Chapter Five

🔥 Chapter Six

🔥Chapter Seven

🔥 Chapter Eight

🔥 Chapter Nine

🔥 Chapter Ten

🔥 Chapter Eleven

🔥 Chapter Twelve

🔥 Chapter Thirteen

🔥 Chapter Fourteen

🔥 Chapter Fifteen

🔥 Chapter Sixteen

🔥 Chapter Seventeen

🔥 Chapter Eighteen

🔥 Chapter Nineteen

🔥 Chapter Twenty

[cup-of-jonas]

Walls Chapter Twenty: Fenway Night

✨Masterlist✨

Backstage at Fenway had a heartbeat of its own. Cases rolled across concrete, radios crackled with clipped words, and somewhere above, the crowd swelled and shifted like an ocean waiting for the tide. The air was thick with anticipation, damp from the night and charged with the kind of electricity only a sold-out stadium could carry.

Joe crouched low on the lift platform with his brothers, bouncing once on his heels, hands rubbing together like he could burn off the energy. His chest rose and fell too fast, not from exertion but from knowing what waited above. The crowd. The noise. Fenway.

Nick sat opposite him, head bowed, fingers curled tight around his pick. His shoulders were tense, every breath measured. Kevin adjusted the strap of his guitar, quiet strength in his posture, but his foot tapped against the platform, betraying nerves.

Claire moved through the narrow space with her headset tilted around her neck and her clipboard tucked against her ribs, the gravity of the night pressing against her shoulders. She had double-checked the RF frequencies, counted every cue light, marked every call. But now, in these last seconds, her job narrowed down to something simpler, something more intimate.

"Hold still," she said softly, kneeling in front of Joe. She clipped his mic pack snug against the back of his waistband, fingers steady, professional. But he felt it anyway. The warmth of her hand brushing his shirt, the faint scent of her shampoo as she leaned close.

His eyes flicked up, catching hers for a heartbeat. Too quick, too dangerous, but he needed it. The grin tugged at the corner of his mouth before he could stop it.

"You've got this," she whispered, tucking the cord flat against his shirt.

His throat tightened. "Only because of you," he whispered back.

Her lips curved into the smallest smile, professional but soft. She pressed the microphone into his palm, their fingers brushing in the handoff. His chest jolted at the touch, like the current of the crowd above had already found him.

Kevin glanced up, oblivious, his voice calm. "We good?"

"Clear," Claire said, standing. She stepped back just enough to see all three of them, framed by steel and shadow.

Nick rolled his neck, muttering a short prayer under his breath. Joe could hear it, low and quick, the same one he'd said before every show since they were teenagers. Kevin added a quiet "amen" without looking up, hands steady on his guitar.

Joe bounced once more on his heels, then stilled, crouching low with his mic pressed against his knee. His curls clung damp to his forehead. His pulse hammered in his ears. But when he looked at Claire, standing just outside the lift's shadow, he found calm.

She lifted her camera, quick and sure, and framed them in the dim light. Three brothers crouched together, seconds from stepping into history. Nick focused, Kevin steady, Joe grinning like he had been waiting his whole life for this. Her shutter clicked, capturing the exact breath before the world changed.

Joe looked up at her once more. He didn't mouth anything, didn't dare with Nick so close, but his eyes said it. Stay with me.

The cue light flashed green.

The platform jolted beneath them, humming to life. The lift began to rise. The brothers bowed their heads together one last time, arms brushing, three voices whispering gratitude in the dark.

Claire stood at the edge of the stage, headset pressed to her ear, clipboard tight against her chest, heart pounding like it belonged to the crowd. As the lift carried them upward, she smiled. He was already looking for her in the shadows.

The house went black. Forty thousand voices tilted forward. The lift rose into light.

And Fenway roared.

The house lights dropped, and for one breath Boston belonged to silence. Not true silence forty thousand people held it in their lungs, the kind of pause that makes a city lean forward all at once.

Then the lift rose.

Joe felt the stage hum under his boots, the vibration rising through his chest like another heartbeat. Darkness broke in a sweep of gold. The Monster loomed behind him, eternal and green, but tonight it was theirs. Fenway roared. The sound came down like thunder, shaking every rib in his body until he grinned so wide his cheeks hurt.

"Hello, Boston!" he shouted, voice slicing through the noise. His curls bounced, damp at the edges, shirt clinging already with heat. "You waited all summer for this, so did we!"

The crowd answered like a storm breaking.

Nick set his jaw, fingers flying over the guitar. Kevin's shoulders dropped into rhythm, grounding them all. They were three points of a star, and tonight that star burned like fire. Joe spun the mic in his hand and let himself burn with it.

From the wing, Claire pressed her headset to one ear, camera strap slung across her chest. She had checked RF, set runners, shifted cues. Now her job was to capture it. Through her lens the brothers became something more than performers. She caught Nick's brow furrow just before he cracked into harmony, Kevin's mouth curling into a smile when the chords landed right, Joe's grin flashing before the crowd even caught it, as if he already knew they'd meet him there.

Her shutter clicked, steady as her heartbeat was not.

The set poured forward, one song crashing into the next. Joe darted down the thrust, pointing at a sign, laughing when someone tossed a Red Sox cap and he caught it midair without breaking stride. He draped it over the mic stand and sang into it like a joke only Fenway could share.

"You're loud, Boston!" he shouted between songs, sweat dripping down his temple. "But I think you can be louder." He cupped a hand to his ear, and the place nearly caved in on itself. His grin went wild, pure Leo showman. "That's what I'm talking about!"

Claire's camera caught the moment perfectly. Joe lit up from the inside, curls plastered to his forehead, eyes shining like he had swallowed the city whole.

Mid-set, Nick moved to the piano rolled onstage. The opening chords of When You Look Me in the Eyes curled into the night air, softer, reverent. The stadium shifted. Screams dimmed into something closer to prayer. Kevin's harmony slid in, warm and certain.

Joe lifted the mic. "Oh, oh yeah..."

Forty thousand voices joined, folding themselves into his.

Claire edged closer to the stage, lens lifted, heart in her throat. Through the viewfinder she framed it Nick bent over the keys, Kevin's head tipped toward harmony, and Joe, center stage, eyes closed, voice breaking the night open.

If the heart is always searching, can you ever find a home?

The words struck like they belonged to her alone.

Joe's eyes opened, skimming the sea of people. For one heartbeat, he stopped exactly where she stood. His voice softened on the lyric, his chest pulling tight. Claire froze, camera trembling, shutter clicking anyway. She knew. She knew it was for her.

The chorus rose and Fenway sang it back, cell phone lights glimmering like constellations. Joe's laugh broke through mid-line, overwhelmed, boyish and real. "Boston, you sound beautiful," he said, hand over his heart.

Claire lowered her camera for just a second, letting herself breathe. Her heart was pounding so hard she almost forgot she was supposed to be working.

The show barreled forward. Burnin' Up set the whole place alight, flames from pyro curling against the sky. Lovebug turned the stadium into one long sway, voices rising soft and sure. Joe fed off every second, reckless and radiant, skipping down the risers, throwing glances at Nick just to make him roll his eyes, bumping Kevin's shoulder until he laughed mid-harmony.

But every few songs, when the lights swung wide, Joe's gaze caught Claire again. Quick, fleeting, but enough. She felt it every time.

By the finale, confetti burst like starlight, raining across the stage. The brothers bowed together, arms over shoulders, sweat and joy stitched into one frame. Fenway screamed like it would never stop.

Claire clicked the shutter one last time. Through her lens she saw what no one else could three men not just performing, but belonging. And Joe, stealing one last look toward her, smiling like the night itself was a secret between them.

[cup-of-jonas]

Walls Chapter Nineteen: Completely Wrecked

✨Masterlist✨

Joe shut the bathroom door with the soft click of someone who needed the world to pause. The room was quiet enough to hear the faint hum of the fan and the drip of a faucet someone had not turned all the way off. He braced both hands on the sink and stared at himself. Curls in disarray. Mouth kiss swollen. Eyes blown wider than any stage light could justify.

"She is completely going to wreck me," he said to the mirror. The words fogged the glass for an instant and faded. Saying it once was not enough. "She is going to wreck me, and I am falling for her."

Images hit him like frames from a film he would never stop watching. Her fingers on the back of his neck as if she had always known where to rest them. The way she had said breathe in the wings in Hershey and the world had obeyed her. Coconut cream that still lived on the edge of memory and the smallest laugh against his mouth when he stole her fries. Her palm on his spine while she fixed the cable under his collar, steady heat anchored to him when everything else was moving too fast. The camera strap crossing her chest this morning, the way she stepped into the light for a single shot without asking permission from anything but her own eye. The lift of her chin when she told him you are good and the softer thing that flickered behind it when she looked up again. The note she had passed him in the tunnel, after, dinner, two forks, kisses, written in a hand he wanted to learn the curves of by heart.

He let his head drop and pressed his thumbs into the porcelain until his hands ached. It should have cooled him. It did not. He could still feel the weight of her on his lap, the way she had settled there like it was the only place that made sense, the way her laughter had broken into a small helpless sound when he kissed the place beneath her jaw. He heard her whisper we cannot and then the truth that slid under it, the one his chest would not stop answering. We will be careful. We will choose this anyway.

The mirror gave him back the version of himself he showed the world and the one he had not let anyone see. He thought of his brothers without meaning to. Nick would call it reckless and ask for a plan. Kevin would ask if it felt like something that would last. He could not put words around it yet, not even to himself. He only knew that when Claire lifted her headset and said go, the static in his head cleared, and when she lifted her camera and saw him, he felt seen in a way that did not belong to a stage.

He splashed cold water over his face until it dripped past his collar and made a small constellation on his shirt. He gripped the edges of the sink and tried to put himself back together. Fenway was waiting. Boston was waiting. There would be interviews and checks and a platform that rose under his feet like a promise. He would be who he had always been in those moments. He would be louder and larger than any one person's heartbeat.

Beneath the towel, his mouth curved without permission. The person who had just walked out of his arms was going to be the last thing he thought of when the house went black. He straightened and looked himself in the eye. He did not look tamed. He looked like a man who had finally admitted what he wanted.

He tucked the corner of a folded call sheet into his pocket, the one with her handwriting on it that felt like a talisman. He pressed his palm against the cloth once, as if to set it there. "Careful," he told his reflection. "Careful and brave."

He opened the door and stepped back into the light.

On the couch, Claire wound her camera strap around her fingers and unwound it again. The room held the ghost of room service and a scatter of light through the blind that made stripes across the carpet. Her lips still tingled. Her pulse still beat in places that did not usually speak this loudly. She tucked her knees under her and made herself breathe like she would if she were counting in a lift.

She had not planned to come in here for lunch, she had planned to send a runner and keep her distance. That had lasted as long as it took for him to say ask her to join him. And for her traitor heart to answer yes before the part of her that kept the whole machine running could come up with a reason to say no. She should have been thinking about the RF map and the rake pass and the press window. Instead she held the memory of his hands on her waist like something she could put in a pocket and keep.

It was not just heat, although there was heat enough to burn through every rule she had ever written for herself. It was the way he watched the crew coiling cable and said thank you like the words had weight. It was the way he placed his in ears case exactly where he knew she would find it and then blushed when she called him impossible. It was the way he had looked when she showed him the photo, something open and unguarded, like he had recognized himself and liked the man he saw.

She pressed her knuckles against her mouth to quiet the small half laugh that threatened. They were careful. No touching where a reflection could catch them. No lingering in the shot line. No myths for the internet. No crossing Kevin's pedal board, for the sake of comedy and survival. She could do those things. She was built for doing hard things in the exact right order.

Her headset crackled. "Doors in forty five. Pyro sweep complete. Team confirm positions."

Her body moved before her thoughts did. She set the camera on the cushion, clipped the headset to her hair, smoothed the call sheet with the heel of her hand, and stood. "Copy," she said, and her voice came out calm and precise. "Lighting confirm movers one through eight patched and parked. Audio give me RF status on third base concourse. Runners to gates."

As she spoke she saw the couch in the corner of her eye and felt the ghost of his hands again. She slid the feeling back into the place she kept for quiet things that belonged only to her. When the door opened, she had already returned to the person every department trusted.

Joe came in wiping the last of the water from his face with the hem of his shirt. His curls were damp again and his smile was the easy one that loosened rooms without trying. He snagged a bottle of water with his brothers' names already on a small piece of tape and headed for the hall. Claire lifted her clipboard. He caught her eye for a fraction. It was nothing anyone could name. It was everything he needed.

He peeled away toward the dugout where Nick and Kevin were already trading the kind of banter that kept their blood sugar even and their patience intact. Nick flicked a pick at Joe's hoodie and missed by an inch. Kevin handed Joe a towel he did not need and said something that made him laugh low in his chest. The three of them leaned into a small circle without touching. Claire watched it like a metronome watches a band and took a breath that matched the count.

She walked the edge of the stage and checked tape runs with her toe. She watched a stagehand redo a knot because it had not sat right in his hands the first time. She paused to thank the groundskeeper who had waited with his rake until the last cart cleared the warning track. She nodded to security at the tunnel and handed off a fresh battery without anyone having to ask. When she reached the lift, she pressed her palm to the cool steel and felt the hum that meant power was in the line and a thousand tiny decisions had been made correctly.

The radio in Joe's pocket buzzed with a private channel that only a handful of them used. He did not pull it out. He knew the rhythm of her check list now. He could hear it in the timing of crew feet passing, in the way a cart took the corner, in the particular hush that settled when every department went from almost to ready. He let the noise of Fenway settle under his skin like a second spine. He let the memory of her mouth pull a smile that would make Nick groan if he saw it. He bit the smile back and rolled his shoulders until the calm arrived.

"Press walk to camera two," Claire said into her mic. "Band to positions for meet and greet. Circle at five."

Joe's head lifted at the last part as if his bones recognized the words. He caught Nick's eye and tipped his chin. Kevin reached out, knocked a knuckle against Joe's as they passed a cable coil, and they drifted toward the place behind the riser where they always gathered. It did not matter how many times they had done it, the small huddle reset the world every single time.

Claire watched from three paces away because she always did. She did not listen to the words. Those belonged to them. She counted the seconds until lift time and watched the cue light for the half house. She checked the clock. She stood at the lip of the stage and waited for the count in her ear.

"Circle clear," Nick called. "Positions."

They dissolved and became parts of a larger machine again. Joe walked toward the lift and put his foot on the mark as if the floor and he had an agreement. He could feel his heartbeat in the soles of his shoes. He could feel her somewhere to his left like a compass that did not fail.

Claire stepped into her line of sight and then out of it in the time it took to move a headset mic from one hand to the other. She knew better than to reach for him here. He knew better than to turn toward her. The air between them remembered anyway.

"House to black in sixty," she said, and even the park seemed to lean forward to listen.

He closed his eyes for the first three counts and saw her. The couch. The way she had looked at the photo on the camera like it had given her proof of something she had always believed. The note tucked in his pocket. The word careful sitting beside the word brave like they were not opposites at all.

He opened his eyes on count four and put the rest of it away. The house was about to go dark. The breath inside that dark would belong to him and his brothers and the city that had already started to sing. He would give them everything and then a little more. The secret would wait where it lived, steady as a heartbeat, ready to meet him in the space between the notes when the light fell and the world got quiet again.

"House to black," Claire said.

The lights lowered like a curtain pulled by an invisible hand. A thousand small sounds dropped out and the park drew one breath. The lift hummed under his feet. He felt the metal give and rise. He smiled into the dark because he could not help it.

At the edge of the stage, Claire lifted the mic toward her mouth and whispered the word that had become a promise between them. "Breathe."

He did. In for four. Out for four. Then he stepped into the gold and let Boston take the rest.

Behind the wing, Claire tucked her clipboard tight against her ribs and watched the cue lights move from ready to go. Her face was calm. Her eyes were bright. The radio on her hip chattered quietly. The camera strap lay warm across her shoulder, waiting for the moment it would be needed.

They were both back at work. They were both exactly where they were supposed to be. And somewhere under it all, each of them carried a very private truth that felt like the start of a story neither of them could stop now that it had finally named itself.

[cup-of-jonas]

[cup-of-jonas]

Walls Chapter Eighteen Kissing Till' the Edge

✨Masterlist✨

Joe kissed her until he forgot where he ended and she began, until his knees hit the edge of the couch and he sank down, pulling her with him. His hands found her waist and in one smooth movement he guided her to straddle him.

Claire gasped, startled at first, but the look in his eyes kept her there, dark, golden, a little wild. His curls stuck damp to his forehead, his chest rising hard against hers.

"Joe..." she whispered, her hands braced on his shoulders.

He leaned back a fraction to look at her fully, his grin crooked, wicked. "God, look at you," he murmured, voice low like worship. "I swear you're going to drive me insane."

Her lips parted, her heartbeat tripping. "You already are."

That made him laugh, boyish and bright even as his hands slid up her thighs, anchoring her against him. "Then you better take responsibility."

She arched an eyebrow, playing along, her Sag spark flaring. "Responsibility for what, exactly?"

"For this," he said, tugging her closer, his mouth finding hers again in a kiss that was more heat than air.

She melted against him, hips shifting unintentionally as their mouths collided in a rhythm that felt both reckless and inevitable. His hands gripped her hips tighter, holding her like he never wanted to let go. When she broke the kiss to laugh breathlessly against his cheek, it undid him more than anything.

"Joe, we're supposed to be eating lunch," she teased, though her fingers were tangled in his curls, tugging him back to her mouth.

He grinned against her lips. "I told you, lunch is off the menu."

Her laugh dissolved into a whimper as he kissed down her neck, slow and deliberate. She tilted her head back, eyes fluttering closed, her nails tracing over the nape of his neck. Every movement was fire and gravity colliding, a push and pull they were both losing.

"Tell me this isn't crazy," he murmured, lips brushing the hollow of her throat.

"It's crazy," she admitted, breathless. Her hips shifted again, their bodies locking in ways that made her dizzy. She cupped his jaw and kissed him hard, desperate. "But it feels like the only thing that's real."

He groaned, the sound vibrating through her, his forehead pressing to hers as he struggled for air. "Claire... if we keep going, I'm not sure I'll stop."

Her answer was a grin that was pure Sag, reckless and radiant. "Then don't."

Joe's laugh cracked out, disbelieving and undone, before he kissed her again, deeper, hungrier, like she had just given him permission to fall completely.

Joe leaned back into the couch, Claire still straddling him, her hands curled into his shoulders like she wasn't ready to let him go. His curls were a mess, lips kiss-swollen, eyes burning with something between hunger and pure boyish mischief.

"You're trouble," she whispered, trying to catch her breath.

He tilted his head, exaggeratedly innocent, lips quirking into the most ridiculous grin. "Me? Trouble?" He widened his eyes, doing that mock-offended face he only pulled when he wanted to make someone laugh.

Claire couldn't stop herself. She laughed right there, the sound bubbling out of her against his chest. He soaked it up like sunshine, grinning even bigger.

"You're not even sorry," she teased, brushing her nose against his.

"Not even a little bit," he said, then gave her that face, lower lip tucked, brows lifted, half-smirk breaking through like he knew exactly what he was doing. Animated and shameless. "Look, if anyone asks, I was just trying to feed my assistant lunch, okay? Very professional. Very noble."

She bit her lip, fighting another laugh, and shook her head. "Oh my God, you're.."

"Charming," he corrected, giving her that exaggerated wink that made her cheeks flush hotter than all the kisses had.

Her hands slid into his hair, tugging lightly. "You're going to get us both in so much trouble."

He groaned dramatically, throwing his head back against the couch cushions. "Worth it," he declared, then popped his head back up with that reckless sparkle in his eyes, as if daring her to argue.

Claire just stared at him for a beat, caught between wanting to scold him and wanting to kiss him all over again. "You're unbelievable," she whispered, softer now.

Joe's grin softened too, his hands slipping up her back, gentle after all the chaos. "Yeah, but you like me like this."

Her smile betrayed her. "Unfortunately."

"Don't lie," he teased, pressing a kiss to her nose. "You love it."

The way she looked at him then, exasperated, smitten, fighting not to melt, told him he was right.

Joe let her tug his curls between her fingers, his lips brushing hers again in quick, greedy kisses that left them both half-laughing, half-breathless. His hands slid down her waist, fingers flexing like he was trying to memorize every line of her.

"Joe," Claire whispered against his mouth, her pulse thrumming against his chest. "We can't do this! Your are going to be late.."

He groaned, dropping his forehead to hers. "I know." His voice was rough, torn between want and restraint. Then he gave her that boyish, animated grin again, the one that looked almost innocent if not for the heat in his eyes. "You're gonna kill me."

Claire laughed softly, even as her heart pounded. "You're going to get us caught."

He pulled a dramatic face, widening his eyes like a kid caught sneaking cookies. "Caught? Me? Never."

"You're literally the loudest person I've ever met."

He gasped, clutching at his chest in mock offense. "Ouch. That hurt. Right here." He tapped his heart, then softened it with a low smile that was nothing but real. "But I'd still risk it for this. Continue to see me." He said rather than asked.

Her throat tightened. She pressed her hands flat against his chest, steadying herself, steadying him. "Yes to seeing you. And we can't, get caught." she said again, but this time her voice shook with how badly she wanted to.

Joe kissed her once more, slower now, then let out a long breath and leaned back into the couch cushions, pulling her with him so she was still cradled against him. "Fine," he said, dramatic again, as if he was making the greatest sacrifice known to man. "But only because I'd like to keep this job of yours intact."

Claire rolled her eyes, trying to hide the smile tugging at her lips. "Oh, so noble of you."

He smirked, tugging her closer by the waist. "Exactly. I'm basically a hero. And please take the good with you Claire. You need to eat lunch.”

“So do you!” She laughed into his shoulder, but when she pulled back enough to see his face, the laughter softened. His expression had gone quiet, reverent, his thumb brushing the edge of her jaw.

"I will be fine.” He said. “ Wow, you really are so beautiful Claire," he murmured as he tucked a piece of her hair away from her face.

The words stole her breath more than the kisses had. She blinked at him, stunned, because it was so unguarded, so completely him.

And then, just as the air thickened again, a voice echoed down the hall. A crew member calling for Joe.

He winced, groaned under his breath, then pressed one last kiss to her temple before letting his hands fall away. "Later," he whispered, grinning like a man who knew he'd just barely survived the fire.

Claire slid off his lap, smoothing her hair, her heart still racing. She shot him a look, equal parts exasperated and smitten. "You're impossible."

Joe grinned, reckless and boyish all at once. "Yeah," he said, voice low, "but you like me like this."

She didn't argue. She couldn't.

Joe leaned back against the couch, chest heaving, curls sticking to his forehead. Claire was still straddling him, their foreheads pressed together, both trying to catch a breath. His hands rested at her waist like he wasn't ready to let go but knew he had to.

"We're insane," she whispered, her laugh shaky.

Joe tilted his head, gave her that animated little grin that could disarm anyone. "Correction... I'm insane. You're just along for the ride."

Claire rolled her eyes, but her smile betrayed her. "You're going to get us both fired."

He leaned in, brushing his nose against hers in a quick, teasing nudge. "Worth it."

Her heart flipped so hard she almost forgot to laugh. She pulled back just enough to steady herself. "We seriously. can't keep doing this in your dressing rooms." She laughed.

"I know," Joe said softly, surprising even himself with how much he meant it. His thumbs traced slow circles at her hips before he made himself drop his hands. "But damn, Claire... I don't know how not to want you."

The honesty in his voice quieted her. She searched his face and saw something there that scared her in the best way, like he wasn't just flirting anymore.

So she reached up and smoothed his curls back from his forehead, grounding them both. "We have to be careful," she reminded him, her voice steady even though her pulse was racing.

Joe nodded, his grin softer now, tinged with something she hadn't seen before. "Careful," he echoed, then added with a crooked smile, "but not boring. Promise me we're not boring."

She laughed and slipped off his lap, settling onto the couch beside him. "You? Boring? Not possible."

He turned toward her, elbow braced on the back of the couch, chin in his hand. His eyes traced her face like he was memorizing her in this exact light. "Good," he said, quieter this time, almost to himself.

The silence stretched, not awkward but charged, until his phone buzzed on the coffee table. He groaned, glanced at it, then leaned back with a dramatic sigh. "Saved by the bell. Or cursed by it."

Claire shook her head, her smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. "Go. You've got press."

He stood, tugged at his shirt, then leaned down to press a feather-light kiss to the top of her head. "Later," he said, the word carrying more than it should.

When he left, Claire sat for a moment longer, clutching her camera strap to steady herself. He was reckless, impossible, and yet somehow he made her feel steadier than she ever had.

Out in the hall, Joe walked with a grin he couldn't fight. Nick could tease, Kevin could roll his eyes, but none of them knew. None of them saw the way his heart had just shifted.

And he wasn't sure he wanted to hide it forever, he was falling for her.

[cup-of-jonas]

Walls Chapter Seventeen: Lunch Behind Closed Doors

✨Masterlist✨

The hallways under Fenway hummed with movement. Runners pushed cases, radios chirped, voices overlapped in quick calls. Claire had been scanning her clipboard, already thinking about pyro timing and doors, when she felt it. A shadow at her side.

"Hungry?" Joe's voice slid in, low enough that only she could hear.

She blinked up at him. "I don't have time. We've got.."

"You can have at least 30 minute lunch," he cut her off smoothly, that grin already tugging at his mouth. "I checked your schedule. Don't argue with me, Assistant. I know your moves. Plus you should be getting a paid hour lunch. We are just too busy today to even catch a breath."

Before she could protest, he plucked the clipboard straight from her hand and tucked it under his arm, eyes glittering. "Come on. Dressing room. I ordered extra fries."

Her pulse jumped. "Joe."

"Claire." He said her name like it was already a yes, and the way he looked at her made saying no impossible.

She followed.

The door clicked shut behind them. Joe fumbled with the handle to latch the lock. Blurring the muffling the noise of Fenway's belly. The instant it latched, Joe dropped the clipboard onto the ground. He didn't give her space to remind him of rules. His hands were already at her waist, pulling her against him, mouth finding hers like he had been starving all morning.

Claire gasped into the kiss, her back hitting the closest wall away from the door. The takeout bag sat untouched on the table, the smell of fries and coffee filling the small room, but she couldn't taste anything except him. His hands slid up, framing her face, and she melted into him like this was the only thing she'd been waiting for.

"God, you undo me," he murmured against her lips, kissing her again before she could answer.

Her laugh broke between kisses, shaky, breathless. "We're supposed to be eating lunch."

He trailed his mouth along her jaw, whispering hot against her skin. "I am eating. Just not fries."

Her fingers tangled in his curls, pulling him closer. "Joe..."

"Yeah," he breathed, lips crashing back to hers, deeper this time. His body pressed flush against hers, heat radiating through cotton. The danger of it, their secret, the rules, the contracts, made it sharper, hungrier.

For one dizzying minute, there was no stadium, no brothers, no schedule. Just his mouth, her hands, the sound of their breathing echoing too loud in the small room.

She broke the kiss first, gasping for air, pressing her forehead to his. "You're going to get us both fired."

His smile curved slow and certain, his thumb brushing her lower lip like he wanted to memorize it. "Worth it."

She closed her eyes, fighting the tug of a smile. "We can't."

"We already are," he said, and kissed her again, softer this time, like a promise instead of a dare.

When they finally pulled apart, both flushed and breathless, Joe grinned boyishly and gestured toward the bag on the counter. "Now we can eat. Fries after kisses. New house rule."

Claire laughed despite herself, shaking her head as he grabbed the bag like nothing had happened, except everything had.

The takeout bag hit the counter, ignored. The smell of fries and grease hung in the air, but Joe tasted only her coffee, chapstick, and the soft sound she made when his tongue slid against hers.

Her fingers curled into his shirt, dragging him closer, and he groaned, the sound vibrating through both of them. "Claire," he whispered against her mouth, already undone. "You're.. god, you're all I think about."

Her hands slid under his shirt without hesitation, palms flattening against hot skin. He hissed in a breath, muscles tightening under her touch, and pressed harder into her, the proof of his want unmistakable.

She whimpered softly when his mouth left hers to find her neck. His teeth grazed the delicate skin, not biting, just enough to make her knees buckle. "Joe," she whispered, a plea, a warning, and a need all tangled together.

"Say the word and I'll stop," he rasped, lips brushing her collarbone. His hands slid up her sides, reverent even through the desperate press of their bodies. "But if you don't..."

Her head tipped back, eyes fluttering shut as her fingers gripped his curls. "Don't," she whispered, breathless. "Don't stop."

That was it. Whatever restraint he had been holding onto snapped. His mouth crashed back onto hers, deeper now, hotter, his hips grinding against hers in a rhythm that had nothing to do with the music outside. Claire gasped into him, pulling him closer, kissing him like the rest of the world no longer existed.

The headset at her hip crackled with someone calling her name, muffled and distant. Neither of them moved. Joe's laugh rumbled against her lips, low and wrecked. "They can wait."

"Joe," she whispered, though her own voice betrayed her—want thick in it, need pulling every word apart.

He kissed her harder, swallowing her protest. His hands skimmed under her shirt, stopping just below her ribs, teasing the edge of a line neither of them had crossed yet. She shivered but didn't pull away.

"You're going to ruin me," he murmured, forehead pressed to hers, lips still brushing hers.

Her laugh was shaky, a rush of air between desperate kisses. "Then we'll be ruined together."

He groaned, kissing her like that promise was already written into both of them. The world outside didn't matter. Not the brothers, not the crew, not the rules. Just this. Her mouth, his hands, the heat that had been simmering since Hershey finally spilling over.

Lunch was not on the menu. Only hunger for each other.

Joe kissed her like he could drown in her and then, without breaking their mouths apart, he lifted her—strong hands at her hips—and walked her backward until the backs of her knees hit the couch. He guided her down gently, following her, bracing his arms so his weight didn't crush her.

She looked up at him, hair falling loose around her face, lips swollen from his kisses, cheeks flushed. Joe stopped for a split second, chest heaving. His thumb brushed her cheek as his gaze roamed her face like he had never seen anything more stunning in his life.

"God," he whispered, voice raw. "You're so beautiful, Claire. You have no idea."

Her heart stuttered at the sincerity in his tone. She tugged him down to kiss her again, desperate to erase the space between them. His body pressed into hers, hard lines meeting soft curves, and he groaned, the sound buried against her mouth.

Her hands slid up his back under his shirt, tracing muscle and heat, making him shiver. He kissed down her jaw, her throat, lingering like every inch of her was sacred. His hips shifted against hers without thought, and Claire gasped, nails digging into his shoulders.

Joe pulled back just enough to look at her, his curls falling into his eyes, his lips red from her. "You can tell me to stop," he breathed, though his body was trembling with how much he didn't want to.

She shook her head, eyes wide, voice barely above a whisper. "Don't stop."

That undid him. He kissed her again, rougher, like he had been holding this back for too long. The couch creaked under them as they tangled closer, his hand sliding beneath the hem of her shirt to rest warm and steady at her waist. His touch was reverent even in the urgency, his thumb stroking small circles against her skin.

"Claire..." He broke the kiss to breathe, forehead pressed to hers, his voice cracked open with want. "You're going to drive me insane."

Her laugh was shaky, lips brushing his. "You're already halfway there."

He grinned, breathless, and kissed her again, their laughter swallowed by heat.

The world outside could knock, call, scream. Inside this room, on this couch, it was only them.

[cup-of-jonas]

Walls- Chapter Sixteen When You Look Me in the Eyes

✨Masterlist✨

The press hit moved fast. Two anchors in bright coats. A producer clinging to a clock with white knuckles. Joe turned on the wattage and Boston turned it back at him. "We can feel the city already," he said, and meant it. Kevin said the jet bridge sang. Nick said they were not taking requests. Everyone laughed. Claire clicked the stopwatch and did not smile, then smiled anyway.

From her vantage point, Claire watched Joe switch it on the charisma, the timing, the sparkle in his eyes and she understood why the world adored him. What no one else could see was the way his gaze flickered toward her between answers, like she was the anchor that let him shine this brightly.

When the anchors cleared and the crew broke down cables, Nick drifted back toward the piano that had been rolled onto the stage for rehearsal. He cracked his knuckles, muttered something under his breath about warming up properly, and began to play.

The opening notes of When You Look Me in the Eyes spilled across the stadium, soft and resonant. It filled Fenway differently than the guitars had. Not like thunder, but like a heartbeat echoing across the empty seats. Kevin shifted closer, guitar slung low, listening with quiet pride. Joe leaned against the lid, arms folded, rocking to the rhythm without even realizing it, his curls shadowed under his cap.

Claire's heart stuttered at the sound. She slipped up the side steps almost without thinking, camera strap snug against her shoulder. She had meant to check RF levels. Instead, the sight of the three brothers in their natural rhythm stopped her cold.

The stadium that had felt enormous a moment ago seemed to fold inward, narrowing down to this: sunlight pouring over Nick's bent head at the piano, Kevin framed in the arc of harmony, and Joe smiling at both of them with a softness he didn't even know he wore.

She lifted the camera. The shutter clicked, once, twice, catching them not as performers but as brothers, as men who had built this together. She adjusted, moved a step closer, framing them wide rows of empty chairs stretching back like waves, stage lights waiting like stars.

Nick's voice rose, sure and steady.

"Oh, oh, yeah...

If the heart is always searching,

Can you ever find a home?

I've been looking for that someone,

I'll never make it on my own."

Joe's harmony slipped in, warm and aching, carrying the words into the bones of the stadium.

"Dreams can't take the place of loving you,

There's gotta be a million reasons why it's true..."

Kevin's harmony followed, deep and grounding, weaving them together.

Claire pressed the camera tight to her eye. Through the lens she didn't see the world's biggest boy band rehearsing. She saw something rare. The truth of them.

The shutter clicked again.

Joe felt her before he saw her. His gaze turned, just enough, mid-verse, to find her on the edge of the stage. She was there, sunlight haloing her hair, camera lifted. For a fraction of a second the song wasn't for Boston or for the thousands who would come tonight. It was for her.

His chest tightened. She sees me.

Her finger pressed the shutter, and the faintest smile tugged at his mouth as he sang, the lyric twisting into something heavier.

"When you look me in the eyes,

And tell me that you love me,

Everything's alright,

When you're right here by my side..."

The chorus filled the stadium, caught in the rafters, echoing until it felt like Fenway itself was singing back.

Claire lowered the camera for a breath, pressing it against her chest as if it was the only thing keeping her steady. She had captured it. Not content. Not promo. A moment no one else could have seen. She almost forgot to breathe.

The song ended soft, notes fading into the ribs of the Monster. Nick finished the run, leaning back with a nod of approval. Kevin's mouth curved in his quiet way, harmony still hanging in the air. Joe didn't move. His eyes stayed on Claire until it was dangerous, then he pushed off the piano and jogged back to his mark like nothing had happened.

Later, when she scrolled through the camera, Joe leaned in, sweat shining at his temples. "Which one," he asked.

Claire's hands trembled just a little as she tapped the frame. "This."

The photo showed all three of them: Nick bent over the keys, Kevin turned just slightly toward him, and Joe mid-laugh, sunlight breaking across his face. Behind them the Monster loomed soft and green, a cathedral made intimate.

"This is what today felt like," Claire whispered.

Joe stared at the image far too long. Something lodged in his throat, unspoken. At last he whispered back, "Wow, please save that one."

"I will."

Something heavier than a smile passed between them. He wanted to touch her, wanted to say more, but Nick's voice broke in from the piano.

"Again?"

Kevin chuckled. "Let him breathe, Nick."

Joe forced himself to lean back, but not before bending close enough to murmur, just for her, "Thank you." His voice was rougher than he intended, like she had given him something he didn't know he needed.

Claire clutched the camera against her chest after he turned, trying to steady her hands. She had captured the three of them, yes but she knew, deep down, the photo would always belong to him.

When Joe showed Nick and Kevin a few minutes later, their reactions were immediate. Kevin whistled low. "That's... wow."

Nick studied it longer than expected, his perfectionist's eye softening. "That's... real. That's us." He looked at Claire, not unkind. "You took this?"

Claire nodded, cheeks warm. "Yes."

Joe beamed, pride swelling in his chest. "Told you. She sees us the way we're supposed to be seen."

Nick's gaze lingered, thoughtful now. Kevin gave her an approving nod. And Joe, grinning wide, he gave her a slight side hug as he leaned back on his heels, already knowing this wasn't just a photo. This was going to change everything for her.

Claire exhaled slowly, the camera strap pressing against her chest. For once, she let herself believe it.