Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
“Exactly like this, my sexy, take-charge boyfriend,” Skylar said with a dreamy sigh as he wound his legs around my waist. “Now make me yours.”
Epilogue
Skylar
One year later
“Are you nervous?” Clark asked as we sat in the audience on the opening night of Drag Me, a play about drag queens. It was the first play where many of the costumes would be my original creations.
“Scared out of my mind. I mean, I think my designs are fucking fabulous, but who knows what others will think?”
“It’ll be great.” Seth peeked at me from the other side of Clark. The two of them had gotten pretty close. Clark had become friends with all of them, but he and Seth especially so.
“Thanks,” I replied.
Jake, who was sitting next to Seth, gave me a thumbs-up. Jake and Seth were doing great. Seth was killing it in beauty school, and I might’ve been wrong, but I had a feeling Jake would be proposing soon. It fit them, and I could see that happening. For now they were happy and crazy in love…just like I was with Clark.
“They’ll be great, and everyone will love them. I could do better, though,” Jesse teased from beside me.
“You wish.” I flicked his ear.
“Ouch. You don’t get to be rough with me. Only Dane can do that in the bedroom.”
This was followed instantly by Dane’s, “Shh!”
“No one can hear us,” Jesse countered. We were early, and the seats around us hadn’t filled up yet.
“You’re ridiculous.” Dane leaned in and pressed a kiss to Jesse’s lips. “But I love you.”
“Why?” I asked, just as Jesse replied, “Love you too, and fuck off, Sky.”
We all laughed.
“Do the two of you ever stop?” Clark asked.
“Is that even a question?”
He rolled his eyes, then put his hand on my lap, tangling our fingers together. “It’s going to go great tonight, I know it.”
God, I loved him. I was a pretty confident guy, but Clark was so levelheaded that if he thought it would work out, I knew it would.
“Sorry I’m late,” Mom whispered as she filed into the row behind us and took one of our reserved chairs. She wasn’t late, because as I said, we were early due to my freaking the hell out.
The two seats beside her belonged to Clark’s parents. Things definitely weren’t perfect between us—we were just different people and didn’t understand each other—but we tried. We got along, and we were all getting closer because Clark and I loved each other and that was what mattered—family. His mom even asked my mom to lunch a few times. According to mine, it was awkward, but she said each one got better and more comfortable.
“You’re not late. It’s fine,” I told her. She was still going to therapy, and she hadn’t dated anyone in the last six months. It wasn’t that I wanted her to be alone, and I did hope she would find someone one day, which I told her, but she said she wanted to keep working on loving herself before she tried to love someone else again.
It wasn’t long before Clark’s parents arrived, and we said our hellos to them too. Clark was running the new office and thriving, like I knew he would be. He and his mom had mended some bridges, and she was learning not to meddle and how to let go.
“Thank you for coming,” I told his parents. “It really means a lot to me.” I mean, Clark’s mom at a play about drag queens? I never thought I’d see the day.
“Thank you for inviting us,” she replied.
Soon the show started, and it turned out I had absolutely nothing to worry about. The costumes were a hit—I could hear people raving about them during intermission—and when the show was over, everyone was clapping and cheering.
I couldn’t help looking at my name in the playbook: Costume Design – Skylar Davison. I couldn’t believe it. But somehow it all felt possible because of the man beaming beside me before pulling me into a hug.
“I’m so proud of you, Sky.”
“Thank you,” I replied, almost shyly, which was obviously weird as fuck.
After the show, we said goodbye to our parents, and the group of us headed to the Underground to have a couple of drinks in celebration.
When Clark and I got home—I’d moved back in with him ASAP; I loved sleeping in bed with him, damn it—he pulled me down to said bed and kissed me.
“Did I tell you how proud I am of you?”
“About thirty-five times.”
“I’m proud of you. I like the number thirty-six.”
His glasses were sliding down his nose, and I righted them, my heart beating like crazy, and I considered what I almost passed up due to fear. “I seriously might have the greatest boyfriend in the history of the world.”
“Might?” he asked.
“Now don’t you start getting cocky on me,” I teased, and we kissed again. “I want your dick.”