Epilogue

Margot

It's only takenus six long months, but Elle's apartment is finally finished.

And by finished, I mean that we've successfully turned it into Candyland.

"It has character, don't you think?"

I lift an eyebrow her way. "You don't want to know what I think."

Her head falls back on a laugh. "So I was possibly a little lost and went overboard." She squints, tilting her head as she studies her couch. "I'm also decidedly not an artist. I should have paid my friend Xander to paint the couch instead. Is it just me … or does it look like my hand is on my brother's cock?"

"It's not just you."

"Bollocks."

I slap her bare ass. "Go put some pants on. Your friends will be here soon."

"Not like they've never seen me naked before," she mutters as she walks off.

I'd believe it. Elle's not shy, and it's one of the things I adore about her, but I love her vulnerability as well. Maybe even more than the confidence because I'm the only one who gets to see it.

To everyone else, Elle is invincible.

To me, she's silly and anxious and spontaneous and working through her parent issues in therapy. Something she'll never tell anyone, not because she's ashamed but because she's got this need to build herself up into the person all her friends go to when they need something. Like she's collecting stray puppies.

"I'm excited," she calls as she comes back down the hall. "It's like an art unveiling. What do you think they'll all say?"

"What LSD trip were you on to think this was a good idea?"

"Now, what do you really think they'll say?"

"What LSD trip were you on to think this was a good idea?"

Elle sighs, already sounding so exasperated with me. But I know it's all an act. Our relationship started slow emotionally, but it goes deep. We might not talk about love and all that mushy shit, but we talk about the important things, and other than my brother, there's no one else on earth that I know the way I know Elle.

I glance over at the way Elle's looking around the apartment like she's seeing it for the first time, and I know that look. The way she focuses too hard on the external to distract from what's going on inside.

"What's that face?"

"There's no face," she says automatically.

This time, it's my turn to sigh. And I do. Loudly.

She rolls her eyes. "Fine. What if he doesn't like me?"

It takes me a second to work out who she means. "What, Perry?" Him not liking someone is a hilarious concept.

"Obviously. He's your brother. The person who was supposed to show up on that first day. If he saw my message and knows how deranged I sounded?—"

"He didn't see the message. Relax. And please, don't worry about him. I'm not going anywhere, and once you meet him, you'll work out why."

And like talking about him has summoned him, his voice drifts down the hall. "Please tell me I have the right apartment this time …"

Elle's eyes widen. "This time?"

"We're in here!"

His disheveled head pops around the corner, and relief floods his features. "Thank goodness. I didn't duck fast enough last time. My head probably couldn't have taken another hit." It's then that I notice a smear of blood in his eyebrow.

"Someone threw something at you?"

"To be fair, I did let myself into their home."

"Why didn't you knock?"

"I was invited!" He throws up his hands like he can't work out why he's being attacked. "You sound just like them."

Elle laughs. "Oh, my dear, sweet man. I'm going to adore you, aren't I?"

His face splits into a dopey grin. "Elle!"

She opens her arms for a hug, and he lifts her, spinning her around like they haven't seen each other in years. I'd whine that this is my life, but deep, deep down, this warm mush is creepy through my chest.

"Stop it!" Perry shouts. "This is where you live?"

"Cool view, huh?"

He throws me a confused look before turning back to Elle. "You both really painted this yourself? It's a masterpiece. I love it." He breaks into a cackle. "Look at the couch! Is that Margy? Of course it is—look at her hair. It's always been wild."

I frown. "Yours isn't exactly GQ-worthy either."

He pats his mess down—unsuccessfully—and moves closer. "Why aren't I on here? Who are all these other people?"

"My friends," Elle tells him. "They're all basically my brothers, and that one is my actual brother."

"Interesting choice to be cupping his balls like that."

"I was trying to paint us holding hands."

"Huh. Great attempt though. This whole place is making me happy. Hey, do you have more paint? I can fit in here."

"Of course!" Elle darts off to grab it for him while I desperately beg for literally anyone else to show up.

Once she's back and Perry is off painting just as terribly as us, Elle joins me in the kitchen. She wraps her arms around me from behind, and it's like I can feel her smiling.

"How have you hidden him from me all this time?"

That pulls a smile from me too. "I knew the second you both met, that would be it."

"What do you mean?"

My teeth sink into my bottom lip as I debate my next words. It's hard for me to talk about, but I'm damn sure going to try and put it out there. "There'll be no separating you. Which means we can't break up. And that's kind of perfect for me because …" My chest squeezes. "I'm sort of feeling, well, a lot. For you."

Elle turns me around, blue eyes big and soft, one corner of her lips quirked. "Is that Margot for you love me?"

I clear my throat. "Is that Elle for you love me back?"

She breaks into giggles, then leans forward and draws me into a deep, toe-curling kiss. "Yes, I love you. So much. And now I'm going to need you to say it back."

"I … love you." It's hard to get out, but it feels right. So right.

Especially when Elle kisses me again.

Perry clears his throat. "You guys are almost as adorable as my picture. Wanna see?"

I reluctantly let Elle go as she rounds the counter to follow Perry, then trail after them. I should have known better.

He's about a head taller than everyone else and?—

"Why are you holding a gun?"

Perry pumps his dark eyebrows my way. "Cool, huh?"

"No, you twit. You look like you're about to shoot me in the head."

Elle breaks into laughter as Perry tries to turn the gun into flowers.

"So … when are you moving in here?" Elle asks casually. So casually that for a moment, I think she's talking to Perry. Then they both turn my way.

"W-what?"

"Well, you just said that introducing me to your brother was as good as a marriage proposal, so we might as well live together."

Perry nods enthusiastically. "We're on her couch, Margy. It's the obvious next step."

And even as I roll my eyes at his ridiculousness, my gaze lands on the couch. Where we're all painted. Elle groping her brother, mine attempting to murder me, all her friends and pseudo-family, they fill me with an unexpected warmth.

Moving in with each other isn't the obvious next step. It's the only one.

Me and Elle? We're forever.

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