Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“Good morning! Can I help you with—” Lo stopped abruptly and dropped the pillow in his hand like a hot potato. “Pierce.”
I drank in the sight of him like a man dying of thirst.
“Hey.”
“What are you doing here?” he whispered.
“Uh…well, I’ve never bought a candle in my life. That’s weird, isn’t it?” I sniffed the one in my hand. “This one smells like the ocean or something.”
Lorenzo nodded, pursing his lips as he wrapped his arms protectively around his slight frame. “Do you want it?”
I placed the candle on the table, then turned my cap backward to give my hands something to do. I could feel eyes on us and murmurs—the kind of noise that signaled it was time to put on a mask and pretend to be someone the world recognized.
But Lo was the only one who mattered now. He was the only one I could see.
“Do I need a candle?”
“That’s up to you,” he replied, his eyes soft with something so patient and sweet, I wanted nothing more than to dive into them and swim for days. “Shouldn’t you be in Toronto?”
“Yeah, but…I didn’t want to go.”
“Why?”
I shrugged. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
“Oh.”
“I was sitting at the gate and I could see exactly how the next few months would play out and the next year and…I just—I don’t want to do this life without you, Lo,” I whispered.
“Pierce…”
“And I didn’t want to get on that plane without telling you…I love you.” I wasn’t sure he heard me, so I said it again…a little louder, a little stronger. “I love you. I’m in love with you.”
He bit his lip harder. “You are?”
“So fucking in love. You’re not just my friend…you’re my best friend, my compass, my sunshine, my person I want to grow old with. You’re my partner. My right-hand man. It’s you. I don’t want to wait for someday. I want you now and always. And if there’s a chance that you feel the same, I—”
He flew into my arms. “Shh, stop. I love you too.”
I gasped in relief and held him tighter, burying my face in his neck and breathing him in.
Muffled voices, curious twitters, and the familiar flash of camera phones existed in a dimension just outside of our bubble. They were there but not really. We were the only ones who mattered.
I rested my temple against his. “We’ll make it work, Lo. We’ll figure this out.”
“I want that too.” He nodded and pushed away slightly. “You know they’re taking pictures, right?”
“Let ’em. I want the whole fucking planet to know I’m the luckiest man in the world.”
Lo beamed at me.
I held him tight with my eyes closed, and thanked my lucky stars and whatever force in the universe had brought us together. Everything in my life had led me here, to this man. The ugly parts, the surreal parts, the loneliness, the dizzying heights, and terrifying lows…
But now that I had my right-hand man at my side, I felt nothing but peace. This was real and right, and I was never letting go.
EPILOGUE
“Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be…” —Robert Browning
September, one year later
Lorenzo
After a rainier-than-usual spring, the weather experts advised Southern Californians to brace for a hot summer. Three days into autumn, the heatwave was still going strong. I was wilting like a rose in the desert—and so were my tomatoes. Excuse me…our tomatoes.
I brushed sweat from my brow, then secured my wicker hat and checked the temperature on my watch. “It’s ninety degrees.”
Pierce looked up from where he was kneeling in front of our veggie garden. His baseball cap shaded his eyes but not the proud papa smile on his handsome face. “Yeah, yeah, it’s hot. So what? Check this out. We have a real fuckin’ tomato here, baby. We can eat this, right?”
“That was the idea.” I chuckled, crouching to observe the fruit of our first harvest. “That’s a beautiful tomato. Oh, my gosh, and look at the eggplant. It’s tiny now, but it’s going to be huge.”
“How can you tell?”
“I know my eggplants.” I nudged his shoulder when he waggled his brows lasciviously and made a lewd gesture. “You’re rude.”
He nodded. “And horny. Help me pluck the last of these off the vine, so we can jump in the pool and have some sexy time on a chaise lounge.”
I leaned in to peck his cheek. “We don’t have time. We’re supposed to leave in an hour. Seb won’t be happy if we’re late. Tonight is a big deal.”
A very big deal. Tonight was the red carpet premiere of High Octane, the newest release in the Baxter Chronicles franchise. Early reviews claimed it was the best one yet. The writing was better, the action sequences were believable, and according to a prominent film critic, Pierce Allen had come into his own, giving his audience an intense and charismatic performance that solidified his reputation as a force to be reckoned with in Hollywood. He was praised for his ability to steal every scene and yet somehow, he’d managed to uplift his costars’ performances too.