Epilogue

Six Months Later

Tap, tap.

I don’t move to open the door. Axl knows he’s always welcome. It’s my first week in my new apartment in Mapleton. I’d been commuting back and forth to see Axl, but after my last tour concluded, I decided to take some time off to write some new music. I set up a small recording studio in the extra bedroom in this apartment. Axl’s not musical at all, but he’s been coming over every day after morning hockey practice to listen to me do my thing.

The door flies open, and Axl’s carrying my coffee order—that I didn’t order—as he’s assumed the princess treatment my driver used to give me. He leans over and drops a sweet, chaste kiss on my lips before blurting out, “Morning, Twinkie.” The rascal smile on his face is instant.

I jolt to stand and search for a pillow or something nearby to hurl at him. When I don’t find anything I can’t risk breaking, I settle with a warning. “You’re not allowed to talk to Sam anymore.”

He sets my coffee on top of my desk and takes the empty seat in front of my keyboard. His finger instantly finds the keys in front of him, and he plucks away without any rhythm.

“Sounds great, babe,” I tease in between swallowing drinks of my hot coffee.

“I’ve been practicing, and I’m thinking of making a career change.” He bombs out a disorganized chord. “What do you think? Would you hire me as a keyboard player?”

“Only for your looks.”

“Oh, I see how you are.” He runs his fingers all along the keys, and not one chord sounds good. When he throws in a very off-key do re mi , I struggle not to cringe. But he’s laughing, clearly joking around. “So, no backup singing gig during my off season?” He wags his brows at me.

“I mean . . . you just hit every note on every scale that ever existed so clearly this is your future.” Laughter rushes out from both of our mouths, and he spins on the chair to face me.

“I’m so glad you see it my way, because I decided that now that this last tour of yours is over, I don’t want to go back to only seeing you a couple times a month. I’m happy to moonlight as a backup singer.”

“I’ll jot that down in my notes in case I ever lose my hearing.” I cross the room and plop down on his lap, wrapping one arm around his neck.

His tongue juts out, and he pretends to struggle to breathe under my weight. “What’s wrong with your chair?”

“Nothing. I just like this one better.” I giggle, enjoying all the ways we are never serious together. I swap my expression to a serious one. “I’m glad you brought that up.”

“Brought what up? How nice your chair is?”

“Not my chair.” I playfully punch his shoulder. “About my tour being over and not wanting to spend time apart, because I decided that it’s time for me to take a vacation. I booked a month-long trip traveling all over Europe, but I don’t want to go by myself. Would you know anybody who wants to go?”

“There’s no way I could possibly be your chair for a month,” he huffs out, and I lose it, nearly falling to the ground with laughter.

“Stop it and be serious.” I stand, being stubborn. “Happy now?”

Without wasting a second, he stands too, pulling me into him. One of his hands slides around my back and the other cups my cheek. “No, I’m not happy yet.”

My lips part, but he slides his hand over and presses a finger to my lips, silencing me.

“Now that we’re living in the same town, I think we need to set some rules.”

“About not sitting on your lap?” I struggle not to laugh because his finger is still glued to my lips.

“Well, yes, and about everything else. Things are different for us—”

“I call we get to kiss!” I cut in, still giggling.

“Oh, yes,” he asserts. “There'll be lots of kissing, but I’m thinking about some things, and there’s something I need you to know. Three things actually, because I play hockey and I’m always going for the hat trick.”

“Okaaay.”

“First.” He finally removes his finger from my lips only to hold it up in front of my face like I don’t understand what the number one is, making me giggle. “I’m going to let you down.”

My brows furrow, and my heart plummets. That is not what I expect. My thoughts run on a loop, trying to figure out what he’d done wrong.

“Not every day,” he continues, “but that’s life, and it’s going to happen.”

The pit of my stomach feels as if it’s about to flip upside down. I have no idea where this is coming from. What did he do?

“That leads me to number two.” He tacks up another finger. I’m not even close to laughing now. I’m afraid . “I won't give up. I’ll do the work, not because I’m desperate, but because we’re worth it.”

Relief floods my veins when I realize something terrible hasn’t happened. He’s saying something incredibly sweet, which makes tears prick the backs of my eyes.

“Number three.” His voice is softer, and languid, pulling on all my heartstrings. “I’ll protect you. That doesn’t need any other explanation. And finally . . . because I’m an overachiever, there needs to be an extra point.” I’m quiet, but his hand finds my cheek again and he drops his face so close to mine I feel the warmth of his skin over mine. His eyes hood, and I assume number four is a kiss, so I close my eyes and lean in.

Instead of finding his lips, I hear his words hot on my skin. “I’ll love you. Not flawlessly as I’m not without my faults, but I’ll give you my everything.”

My upper lip is literally sweating.

We’ve never used the L word before. I’ve wanted to, but I waited for him, and now that he finally slips it out, I’m dying.

“I love you, too.” I don’t have a speech like that. I’ve never heard anything so beautiful in my life, and my lips nearly quiver. I can’t handle being this close to him for another second. “Can you just kiss me already?”

“Pucker up.”

And I did.