Epilogue

Prism

Frowning,I stared down at the phone screen.

This is not what I was expecting.

Instead of texting a bunch of scowling emojis and question marks, I called him instead.

He picked up on the first ring. “Hello?”

I paused. No baby? Princess? Light of my life?

Fine, he never said the last one. Cringe. But still, this greeting was suspicious.

“What are you doing?” I questioned.

His warm chuckle rolled into my ear and created a river of warmth that flowed down my neck. I would never get out of the chokehold this man’s voice had on me.

Good.

“Is something wrong?” he seemed bemused.

It was pissing me off. “Besides the fact you answered my call like I’m some weird telemarketer and not your boyfriend?” I sniffed.

He laughed.

“I checked the app,” I declared.

“That’s what it’s there for,” he replied, smooth and unbothered.

After everything that went down with McClaren, Arsen added the tracking app to his phone so we could see each other’s location all the time. I didn’t have a problem with it. I mean, without that app, I might have stayed stuffed in that hotel closet for who knew how long. It had saved a lot of Elite ass over the past year, so it seemed like a good idea to me.

“Aren’t you going to tell me?” I demanded.

“Tell you what, baby?”

“Don’t you baby me,” I grumped even though it was about fucking time he rolled out one of those endearments. “Why are you at BadAssTattoos? Is Max there? Is he giving you a new tattoo?”

“So much for surprising you.”

Oh. “It was a surprise?” I ask, feeling a little guilty for being a brat.

“Mm.” He agreed.

Through the line, the whirring of the tattoo gun hummed. “Are you getting it right now?”

“Yep. Say hi to Max.”

“Hey, Max,” I said a little louder than before.

Max grunted over the whirring.

“Does it hurt?” I asked, more focused on his pain than the unpleasant sound of the gun.

“Nah.”

I hesitated. “Can I come watch?”

“If you want to.”

“Really?”

He scoffed softly. “Have I ever said no to you?”

“No slick, no dick,” I parroted, trying to sound like him.

He laughed. “That doesn’t count.”

“Hold still,” Max ordered.

“Sorry, bro,” he replied. Then to me, “Besides that.”

I really loved him. Like really. A lot.

Since the cops had come and hauled McClaren out in handcuffs—okay, technically, he went in the ambulance first to get stitches, and then the cops hauled him off in handcuffs—Arsen stayed firmly planted at my side.

I was mostly lost in my own head for a few days after everything before I could even start processing it all, but he never once complained or acted like I was a disappointment. He gave me everything I needed plus some, proving his words that I was, in fact, enough.

“I’m coming,” I said, anticipation accompanied by the underscore of nerves. The last time I went to the shop, the sound had been unbearable.

“Bring your AirPods.” Arsen reminded me. Like I’d forget. They were practically a part of my anatomy.

“I will.”

I ended up grabbing a ride with Wes. When I told him I was going to see Arsen at Max’s tattoo shop he wanted to come too. Technically, it wasn’t Max’s shop, but we all thought of it that way.

When we walked in, Arsen looked up and smiled over Max who was bent over his chest. I already had the Pods in, music blocking the sound, but I barreled in without hesitation to go to Arsen’s side.

“You’re getting your chest tattooed?” I asked, trying to peer around Max’s frame to see whatever he was doing on the right side of Arsen’s chest.

“Among other places,” he said, gesturing to his left shoulder.

The second I saw the design, I gasped and leaned in to touch it.

Max’s latex-covered hand shot out and wrapped around my wrist. I cringed, feeling the slightly tacky rubbery material of the glove. “Don’t touch it.”

“Might want to heed your own warning,” Arsen drawled.

Max rolled his eyes but pulled his hand from me, and I rubbed away the ick feeling on my wrist with my opposite hand.

“Maxi,” Wes scolded from behind.

He jerked up and looked around behind him, eyes landing on his boyfriend.

Wes smiled. “Hi.”

“Nemo,” he said, voice a lot less gruff than when he’d been talking to me.

“Prism said he was coming down, so I offered him a ride.”

“Get over here,” Max called, and Wes leaned in so they could kiss. When Wes pulled back, he said, “Now apologize to P.”

I expected a gruff refusal, but Max surprised me. “Sorry,” he said, “but you can’t touch it right now. I need to clean it up and cover it.”

I nodded. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” Arsen said, reaching for my hand. “You didn’t know.”

“I was the same way when I first saw the tattoo Max got for me,” Wes said, smiling.

My eyes flew back to Arsen’s shoulder and the tattoo he’d definitely gotten for me. Or because of me. I leaned in to look at it better, making sure to keep my hands away.

The bar of music cuffing around his upper bicep was no longer alone. Sitting on top of it was a bear. Not like the kind of bear you see in the woods, though. A teddy bear. His legs hung over the music bar, and on his feet were a pair of studded sneakers. Around his neck was a pair of headphones, and he had bracelets on his wrist. Between his ears was a tilted crown with a small heart in the middle, and in the center of the bear’s chest was the letter M.

Matthew’s bear.

Completely tongue-tied and overwhelmed in the best way, I just stood there and stared, not able to rip my eyes off the new design. The skin was red around it, and somehow, seeing the design wasn’t painless made it even more meaningful.

Like he didn’t care if being my bear wasn’t always comfortable. He was committed to it anyway. To me.

“I hope you like it,” Arsen said, voice a little sardonic. “Because it’s permanent.”

I let out a shuddering breath. “I love it.”

“We’re gonna add some more music notes and some other designs around it,” Max supplied. “Fill in his shoulder more.”

Arsen nodded. “But later. For now, it’s just the bear.”

“And these,” Max said, sitting back so I could see Arsen’s chest.

Three black music notes arched over his right pec above his pierced nipple. I knew instantly what they were for me. One, two, three. It had become a habit—or maybe a fixation—for me to tug and fidget with his piercing. The action was utterly soothing, and sometimes my fingers found themselves there without thought.

Now I had three notes to count. To tap. One, two, three. One, two, three.

I dove at him, wrapping my arms around his waist so they were trapped between him and the chair he sat in. I laid my cheek against his chest (avoiding the new ink) and sighed.

Max must have been about to scold me because Arsen’s voice rumbled overhead. “Leave him.”

The scent of disinfectant filled my nostrils, especially strong right there at his chest. I ignored it the best I could to hug him tighter and whisper, “Thank you, bear.”

He kissed the top of my head, then ruffled my hair, rubbing in the kiss.

“I need to finish,” Max grumbled, and I forced myself back. Instead of getting back to work instantly, he pushed a stool over to Arsen’s side.

“Thanks, Max,” I said, sitting down.

“You’re welcome,” he mumbled.

Wes beamed and handed him a new sterile pair of gloves, and he pulled them on to finish up the last of the music notes on Arsen’s chest.

“Are you sure it doesn’t hurt?” I stressed, looking at the red skin and dots of blood.

“Yeah, real bad.” He pouted, wiggling his fingers at me. “Maybe you should hold my hand.”

“Lame,” Max told him.

Arsen winked, and I held his hand while Max bent his head and got back to work. I didn’t like watching the little needles stabbing into my boyfriend’s skin, so I averted my attention to the bear on his shoulder.

It was my favorite.

“The bros want to meet at Shirley’s in an hour,” Wes announced a little while later.

“I’m starving,” I complained.

“There’s snacks in the wagon.” Arsen reminded me. “Go get one.”

“A bear tattoo and snacks?” Max deliberated. “I’m embarrassed for you.”

Wes made a rude sound. “Says the guy with a fish tattooed on his inner thigh.”

“No one asked you, brat.”

Wes grinned.

After Max finished up the music notes, he cleaned up the areas and applied medical-grade plastic wrap over the new ink. Then he went over the aftercare procedure with Arsen, which he already knew. Keep it clean. Keep it hydrated. Don’t scratch or pick at it. Keep it out of the sun.

After paying, Arsen pulled on a loose black tank that left his wrapped shoulder and some of his sides exposed. He had a lightweight army-green jacket but didn’t put it on, instead draping it across my back.

“You guys meeting us at Shirley’s?” he asked, slipping a hand over the small of my back.

“Yep, see you there,” Wes said and waved as we headed to the door.

The second we were outside, I spun and grabbed his arm so I could look at the bear again. “You really got this for me?”

“For us,” he murmured.

Leaning in, I pressed a barely-there kiss to the edge of the plastic covering. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.”

I started for the wagon, but he made a sound and tugged me back. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To eat?”

“You forgot one,” he said, tugging away the fabric of the tank to expose his chest.

Smiling, I leaned in and kissed the music notes. One, two, three.

“Good boy,” he whispered, and the praise poured over me like honey.

The drive to Shirley’s was short, and all the bros’ cars already filled the lot. The semester had ended just a few days ago, so the diner would be a lot less crowded than we were used to.

“I’m getting a cheeseburger,” I told him, reaching for the handle to get out. “Extra fries.”

“Hey.” His hand on my arm was light, but the hold this man had on me was ironclad.

I turned back.

“Go on a date with me tonight.”

Butterflies flounced all around under my ribs. Even though we’d been dating for over a month now, he still always asked me out.

I was putty for this man and would never be anything else.

I pretended to think about it. “Where?”

“Anywhere as long as it’s with you.”

“Okay,” I whispered.

Leaning across the console, he ran his tongue over the seam of my lips, and I opened for him with a sigh, my tongue reaching to meet his.

After a long, languid, and thorough kiss, he drew back to brush his lips against my ear. “I love you.”

I pulled back just enough to stare into his eyes. “You really are my favorite sound.”

He smiled. “I know, baby. Let’s get you fed,” he said, pulling back.

This time it was me who stopped him. He came back, eyes questioning but overfull with patience. Words weren’t my forte and neither was eye contact, but I desperately wanted to try.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you or even if I do at all, but I’m grateful. So fucking grateful. I will never love anyone the way I love you. I’d never even try. I might be too chicken to get a tattoo on my body, but you are tattooed across my heart. A permanent brand that I know you can’t see, but it’s there, a beautiful design I feel every single day.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed with the force of his swallow. “I think I finally understand what it’s like for you when you can’t find any words,”

I smiled. “You don’t need words right now, bear. Just tell me you heard the ones I just said.”

“I heard, baby. I’ll never forget.”

I pursed my lips, and he chuckled, leaning to give me my request.

Inside Shirley’s was quieter than usual, but our booth and adjoining table were filled just like always. The scent of French fries, waffles, and coffee competed, but it was a familiar scent that was starting to make me think of home.

Arsen linked our hands, and we walked together toward our friends.

“‘Bout time, bro!” Kruger called, sliding out of the booth to come toward us. “You guys are slower than a one-legged dog on tranquilizers.”

“Benjamin Hayes Kruger that was the worst joke you’ve ever told.” My sister scolded him from the booth.

“I thought it was pretty good,” Jamie quipped.

I couldn’t focus on the ridiculous shit coming out of his mouth, though. Not when he was standing there in front of me in a pink T-shirt.

A light-pink T-shirt with the word bro on the front.

“What are you wearing?” I mused, pointing at his shirt.

“You like?” he asked, pinching the fabric to pull it away from his chest. “I told you I was gonna get me a pink shirt.”

“We heard it’s your new favorite color,” Jamie called. “We all got one!”

Leaning around my brother, I swept my eyes across the group.

They were all wearing one.

I glanced at Arsen. “Did you know about this?”

“About that…” Kruger held up his hand, and Win tossed something to him. Kruger held out the exact same shirt to my boyfriend. “Here’s yours, Arsen.”

“Thanks, bro,” he said, draping it over his shoulder.

Behind us, the bell on the door jingled, and Wes and Max walked in. I groaned. Wes was wearing the same pink shirt.

“Hey!” Kruger scowled at Max. “Where’s yours?”

“No,” Max deadpanned.

Jess slid out of the booth and came over, holding out yet another identical shirt to me. “Here, Matty. This one’s yours.”

When I didn’t take the shirt, she unfolded it and pressed it against my chest, smoothing it out.

“Pink is definitely your color,” Arsen said, eyes heating just a little.

“I think he’s right.” Madison agreed. “It contrasts so well with your dark hair and eyes.”

This was embarrassing. I was embarrassed. “You all are wearing pink shirts for me?”

“Wanted you to feel comfortable, bro. Let you know we accept you and your color choices,” Ryan said.

“And boyfriend choice,” Kruger said. “Though, that one took some getting used to.”

“Thanks, roomie,” Arsen said, slapping him on the back.

Kruger groaned.

Since it was officially summer, Arsen had left the dorms. Instead of going across the state to his parents’ house, he moved in with us. It made me really happy.

“You should put it on.” Jess encouraged me, gesturing to the shirt.

“Maybe later,” I murmured, draping it over my arm. It was a little overwhelming that they did this.

Arsen and I slid into the booth with Kruger and Jess, and Shirley came over to take our orders. “Matching cars and matching shirts?” she mused. “You Elite are something else.”

Once our orders were in, Rush leaned in to speak to the table. “I’m flying home next week, and my parents want to know if you’re all coming.”

“Hey, Arsen, anyone tell you that Rush’s mom is a Playboy model?”

Rush groaned. “Please do not Google her.”

Arsen laughed. “No plans to. Not something I’m interested in seeing.” As he spoke, he slid his hand over my thigh.

Warmth and desire filled my lower belly, and I covered his hand with mine.

“At least you have some decency,” Rush said.

“He’s gay,” Kruger pointed out.

“Didn’t stop any of them from looking,” Rush muttered.

“I didn’t,” Lars told him.

“That’s why I like you better than everyone else.”

Lars smiled.

“I could go for some beach time,” Ryan said.

“Me too,” Rory added and looked at Ryan. “We can fly to Cali from Chicago after we see my parents.”

Everyone else jumped in, agreeing and making plans.

Arsen leaned into my side. “What about you, princess? You wanna go to California?”

“I want to stay with you.”

“What if I go with you?”

My stare whipped up to his. “Really?”

He shrugged. “Sure, why not? I think, after the way the semester ended, we all deserve a little beach vacay.”

“Yes, that.” Kruger agreed.

He was an eavesdropper.

I bit into my lower lip and looked at Arsen. “I thought you were going to visit your parents?”

“I can go after we get home,” he said. “Maybe by then, you might want to come.”

Arsen’s parents wanted to meet me, and I knew I should go. His parents had definitely proven they were supportive of us and our relationship, nothing like my biologics.

Still. It was hard.

I was nervous. Insecure. Afraid.

“Hey.” Arsen’s voice rumbled right against my ear. “Settle. It’s all right if you don’t want to go, baby. No one expects it. It changes nothing. You’re still my number one.”

I nodded and shifted my gaze out the window to all the green-topped trees across the street.

Shirley came and handed out plates of food, and a burger with a massive mound of fries slid in front of me.

My stomach grumbled, and I popped a warm, salted fry into my mouth and groaned.

Everyone dug in, the conversation quieting as we stuffed our faces.

A few minutes later, Ryan cleared his throat. “So, uh, Prism,” he said, setting down his burger. “How are things?”

His voice was hesitant, and it made me feel bad. “You can ask,” I told him, then swept everyone with my stare. “You guys can ask anything you want. I’m not keeping secrets anymore. You guys are my friends.”

“Bro, yeah, we are,” Jamie said, shoveling food in his face. He paused midway, wide blue eyes flashing to mine. “Am I chewing too loud?”

I laughed. “You’re fine.”

He went back to plowing through his plate.

Everyone else shifted their focus back to me, and all the undivided attention made my stomach flip. Arsen’s hand settled once more on my thigh, and the reassurance he radiated was calming.

“So, yeah, McClaren was arrested, as you guys know,” I said, glancing at Rush. It was his punch that had knocked him out until the cops came. “And you also already know he lawyered up super fast and didn’t even spend one night in jail.”

Arsen made a rude sound under his breath. John McClaren’s status was a real source of contention for my boyfriend. And when I say source of contention, I mean he was royally pissed off about the entire thing.

But that was the way it went when the bad guy was a senator and had an entire arsenal of connections and money to pay them with.

As pissed off as Arsen was, he knew it all too well. After all, it was the same kind of money and connections that got us out of drug charges, twice.

“So what’s his status now?” Landry asked, sipping at a water.

“Well, he’s being punished for disorderly behavior and is facing impeachment,” I told them. “But honestly, it’s very doubtful there will be enough votes to get him out.”

“But he’s a criminal!” Madison said, eyes flashing.

“Telling someone you want to kill them isn’t the same as actually doing it,” I said.

Arsen’s body stiffened.

“But he assaulted and kidnapped you,” Lars said.

“Technically, his henchmen kidnapped me,” I muttered. “He’s denying he told them to do it.”

“Fucking politicians,” Rush spat. Then to Arsen, “No offense.”

“None taken,” Arsen said.

“Honestly, he’ll probably get away with all of it,” I surmised. It was something I didn’t like but had come to accept. Perhaps it was easier for me to do because I’d learned to live with my parents’ behavior from a very early age.

I still had wounds that I would carry forever. Insecurity and trauma that, frankly, formed some of my personality that would likely never go away.

Knowing my father had planned to kill me was something that still haunted me, and I’d had more than one nightmare about drowning in the campus pool. I refused to let that steal my love of swimming. I refused to give him that power. It was hard, though, and without Arsen and Kruger, I’d probably be struggling more than I was.

“It so unfair,” Rory lamented, gray eyes sad.

“He might manage to hang on to his seat for the rest of his term,” Arsen said, “but in the court of public opinion, he’s ruined.”

Shortly after McClaren was arrested, an “anonymous” source released documentation and evidence revealing the man he hid behind his public persona.

Yeah, that meant it came out that he had a son and that son was me. It wasn’t ideal because the press was relentless even though I’d refused to comment. I didn’t need to comment. The story that broke said it all, and I didn’t need to say it twice.

This wasn’t about me anyway. It was about keeping him from getting re-elected and taking away any motive he would have to come at me again. After all, killing me now that everyone knew who I was would put a giant guilty sign on his ugly forehead.

That’s right. I said ugly.

And yeah, the anonymous source was Arsen’s dad. It was undeniable that all this dirt on his rival would help him politically, but he’d only done it because it would help me. He even asked me first.

Well, he asked Arsen, and Arsen asked me.

“He can’t hurt me anymore,” I said, the raw words making everyone go quiet. “All this time, I thought I was protecting myself by keeping my past a secret. I didn’t want people to know how unwanted I was. How damaged. I thought everyone would reject me if they knew my own parents did too. And for a long time, keeping quiet did make me feel safer. But now I see it was also making things worse. The longer I hid, the more ashamed I felt. The more unworthy I felt of friendship. But now it’s all out. Everyone knows. It took away his power, power I didn’t realize he still held over me.”

“I’m proud of you, P. Stuck it to that old geezer just like he deserved,” Kruger said.

Arsen draped his arm across my shoulders and pressed a kiss against my temple.

“I know this might be controversial,” Lars said, drawing everyone’s attention, “but maybe it’s a blessing he didn’t want you.”

When everyone just stared, Lars seemed to wilt, and Win put his hand over the back of his neck. “Go on, angel. Keep talking.”

“Well, I mean, he was terrible, right? Abusive and mean. It was sort of a blessing he sent you away. I know it hurt and left you with scars, but it was better than having to endure it for your entire life.”

“I got away,” I said to Lars. “Just like you.”

His gaze dropped to his plate, and he nodded imperceptibly. We were both survivors that way. Maybe from different situations but both managing to get away from abuse.

That thought had me looking over at Max. His dark eyes met mine, and I found the same recognition there.

All this time, I’d felt utterly alone, but I never really was.

And because I was overwhelmed and, honestly, worded out, I told them all the rest without speaking at all. Right there at the table, I pulled off my shirt and dropped it in Arsen’s lap and yanked the pink bro T-shirt over my head.

“You’re a handsome dude, bro,” Jamie told me.

I smiled.

The conversation turned light after that, but I barely listened as I finished off my burger while staring out the window.

Arsen’s arms circled my waist, and his chin rested on my shoulder. “Doing okay, princess?”

“Better than okay,” I answered quietly.

He kissed my cheek and made me smile. I focused on our reflection in the mirror. The sultan of sound and a pauper of silence. What a beautiful picture we made.

“Thank you,” I murmured.

“For what?”

“Your whisper.”

“My whisper?”

“Mm,” I murmured, snuggling deeper into his arms. “It silenced all the chaos inside me so I could hear what really mattered.”

“And what’s that?” he asked.

“You. Love. Elite.”

“We fit real good, don’t we, baby?” he whispered in my ear.

Tingles raced over my body, exciting and calming me all at once.

“Better than I could have ever imagined,” I whispered back.

In the end, we weren’t really star-crossed lovers.

Instead, we are fate.