What If You & Me by Roni Loren
Epilogue
One year later
“To Andi and her sick, demented mind!” Eliza announced, raising her glass of champagne.
Andi laughed as Hollyn, Jasper, and Ramsey raised their glasses. Hill set the tray of sliders he’d carried out to the back porch onto the table and grabbed a glass. “May Doxed continue to climb the bestseller list and keep people the world over from getting a good night’s sleep.”
Andi grinned and raised her glass, clinking it to each of her friends’ and then Hill’s. “Thanks, y’all. I’ll drink to reader insomnia.”
Hill set his glass aside and put together a plate of food, getting a few of each of the finger foods he’d made for the party celebrating Andi’s new book’s success, and then handed the goodies to her.
“Thanks, babe,” she said, setting her drink on the side table. “This all looks great.”
“It does,” Hollyn agreed as she chose items for her own plate. “This whole spread is gorgeous. Totally Instagram worthy.”
“Right?” Eliza agreed. “Maybe Hill should do this for a living, huh?”
“What a brilliant idea,” Ramsey said, piling mini-hamburgers onto his plate. “You should give that some thought, Dawson. I think a good friend of yours suggested that a long time ago. What was his name? He was the really smart and good-looking one?”
“Humble too.” Hill smirked as he took the spot next to Andi on the pretty blue outdoor couch they’d bought for their new place and draped his arm across the back of it. “I hope it all tastes as good as it looks. I’m using y’all as guinea pigs for some recipe testing for the cookbook.”
“Always happy to be of service,” Jasper said, sharing a towering plate with Hollyn. “To be a guinea pig or just a pig in general.”
Eliza grabbed one of the shot glasses Hill had filled with his version of gazpacho and plopped down cross-legged in one of the chairs. She took a sip and hummed her approval. “Yum. If everything tastes as good as this soup, I volunteer as tribute for recipe testing, too.”
“Same,” Ramsey said, taking down a slider in one bite. “Hey, Eliza, can I be your recipe-testing date?”
Eliza gave him the side-eye. “Stop trying to date me, fireman. I don’t want to fight about who gets custody of the children”—she waved her hand to indicate Andi and Hill—“when we divorce.”
Ramsey chuckled, this interplay with Eliza a common one these last few months as Hill’s and Andi’s friends came together. “Who’s saying we wouldn’t make it?”
Eliza rolled her eyes.
“So,” Jasper said, clearly trying to save Ramsey from a conversation that would only continue to spiral, “when’s the cookbook due?”
Hill took a gulp of his champagne. “We have about four months. The publisher only wants to use a few recipes from the blog so that it’s mostly brand-new content, but they want me to keep the same kind of recipes that I do on the blog and in the videos. You know, keep it simple for new cooks, single people, busy couples, that kind of thing. Plus, Andi will be adding the movie recommendations.”
Andi was smiling so hard as Hill talked that she was sure she probably looked deranged or drunk, but she never got tired of seeing her guy explain his new projects. The man lit up when he talked about cooking and food. She’d noticed it pretty quickly when they’d first started seeing each other, but since he’d decided to give a cooking blog a real try, she’d watched him transform. First, when the blog had started to gain some traction, then when he’d agreed to do some cooking lessons with her on video. In their videos, they’d feature a meal and a movie that matched the theme and dubbed the segments Netflix & Hill as a play on Netflix and chill.
The segments had turned out to be the tipping point. An editor had started following the vlog and then contacted Hill to see if he’d be interested in doing a cookbook with Hill providing the recipes and Andi matching movies to them.
“So does this mean lots of movie marathons?” Hollyn asked between sips of gazpacho.
“Yep,” Andi declared. “And you ladies are always invited. I promise it won’t be only horror.” She bumped her shoulder into Hill’s. “I’ve grown to appreciate a good romance these days, too.”
Hill kissed the crown of her head, right over the spot where the hair had been yanked out by Jacob Alberts. Luckily, her hair had grown back with no permanent damage beyond her scalp sometimes tingling. And though her psyche would always have the mark of that attack along with what had happened to her as a teen, she’d gotten back into therapy and felt more in control of her anxiety these days than she’d ever been. Plus, she’d used the incident as fuel, which had helped her healing process tremendously. She’d poured all her anxiety, anger, and frustration into her book Doxed, and the joke was on Jacob. While he was sitting in jail, her book was on the bestseller list.
Fuck him.
Hollyn gave Andi a knowing smile and then sent Eliza a look. “Look at that. We’ve turned her into a romantic after all.”
“Hush your mouth, Hollyn Deares,” Andi said, tossing an olive at her. “You say that too loud, and you’re going to ruin my reputation.”
“It’ll be our little secret. And don’t worry, we’ll still allow you to have the occasional movie where everyone dies at the end,” Eliza said magnanimously.
“Except the final girl,” Hollyn added.
“Thank you.” Andi raised her glass. “To final girls.”
Hill gave her a squeeze when everyone repeated “To final girls.”
He leaned close to her ear. “To my final girl.”
Warmth moved through her, and she turned to brush her lips against his. “To my final guy.”
The words came out so easily because she knew them to be true. They’d been together for over a year, and not once had she doubted what she’d declared the night of her attack. She loved him. He loved her. They were meant to be together.
That hadn’t meant there hadn’t been work to be done. Both of them had issues they were working through in therapy. Andi still looked over her shoulder at night. She was still suspicious of strangers. Hill had to be vigilant to keep his depression from surfacing again, and he still had flashbacks to the fire if he heard certain sounds. But the difference was that they were a team now. They didn’t have to fight those battles alone.
Love meant someone had your back. Love meant you didn’t have to hide what you were struggling with. Love taught you that sometimes it was okay not to be okay.
But more often than not lately, Andi was so much more than okay. She was happy. Full-throated, screaming-into-the-sky happy. She’d worked really hard to get there, and she wasn’t going to take one second of it for granted.
Andi settled in and enjoyed the evening with her friends, laughing a lot, drinking a little, and eating too much of Hill’s bread pudding. But when the sky went full dark, her friends started the dance of It’s getting late, we better get going. They gathered their things and headed out as if they’d mutually agreed on an exit time. After exchanging hugs with everyone and sending them all home with containers of leftovers, Andi shut the front door, locked it, and turned on the alarm. The sound of it activating was a comfort to her even in this quiet neighborhood. She spun around, leaned back against the door, and sighed.
Hill was standing in the middle of their living room, watching her with a look of affection that made her want to clutch her hands to her chest like an overdramatic actress.
“What’s that sigh for?” he asked.
“Tonight was great. I love my friends.”
“They’re awesome.”
“And I love you,” she said, taking in the view of him—dark hair mussed from the breeze outside, T-shirt clinging just enough to give her dirty thoughts.
“I love you back,” he said as he took a few steps closer. “In fact, you’re my favorite. Like, in the world.”
She closed her eyes and took in the sweet words, contentment winding through her like a drug. “Did you mean what you said about me being your final girl?”
He took her hands, and she opened her eyes, finding him right in front of her. “I did. Well, woman, not girl.” His lips kicked up at one corner in a suggestive smile. “You’re definitely all woman.”
“I meant what I said, too.”
He guided her arms around his waist and filled the space in front of her, his body heat radiating against her. “Good. Because one day, when you’re ready”—he leaned down to kiss her gently—“I’m going to marry the hell out of you, Andi Lockley.”
The words cascaded through her, filling her up to the brim. Her gaze jumped up to his. His brown eyes held her stare, saying everything she could ever want to feel from him. Sincerity. Love. Honesty. Forever.
“Is that right?”
“Absolutely.” He pushed her bangs away from her eyes and cupped the back of her neck. “With your permission, of course.”
A crazy thought snaked its way through her, whispering, daring her. “And what if I’m ready now?”
He didn’t flinch. “Then I’d marry you now.”
His lack of hesitation stole her breath, and an overwhelming sense of rightness flooded her. I’d marry you now. Now. “You’re serious.”
“I’m serious,” he said, voice calm as ever. “But there’s no rush. I’m not going anywhere. I just want you to know my intentions.” He kissed her again and gave her a small smile. “I’m done for. You’re it for me, neighbor. Ruined for all others.”
Her throat tightened, emotion knotting there. “You’re it for me, too.” She took in the sight of him, letting herself feel exactly what she was feeling and not overthinking it. “So if I’m it for you and you’re it for me, what exactly are we waiting for? What if you and I…”
“What if you and me, what?” he asked softly when she didn’t continue.
“What if we did that?” she said, boldness making her spine straighten. “Got married. Like this weekend.”
A slow smile spread across his face. “Like elope? Don’t you want all the pomp and circumstance with your friends and family there?”
Images flashed through her mind. Her parents inviting all their friends. Picking out bridesmaids’ dresses. Having her family dictate when and where things happened in order to stick with family tradition. Having to decide which state to have the wedding in. What food to serve. Which music to play.
None of that sounded appealing. She’d never been the little girl who dreamt of her future wedding. She’d been the little girl who imagined living in a real haunted house or meeting a vampire or solving a mystery in her neighborhood. And Hill had already been through wedding prep once before. Proposing, planning a wedding, only to have it all blow up in his face.
“I don’t need all that unless you want it,” she said, her heart picking up speed. “We can elope. We can do it in City Park under the oaks. Invite a few of our friends to witness and just do it.” She slid her hands up his chest and looped her arms around his neck. “I don’t need pomp and circumstance. All I need is you.”
Hill’s eyes sparkled in the low light of the living room, and he cradled her face in his hands. “I would love nothing more in this world than to be your husband.”
The words sang through her like the best song she’d ever heard.
“Wish granted,” she whispered, and that was the last thing she got out before Hill lowered his head and kissed her against the door until her knees went to jelly beneath her.
Somehow over the next few minutes, they made it to their bedroom, kissing along the way, without tripping over furniture. Items of clothing got dropped behind them like bread crumbs and no more words were needed. They were getting married. Married.
Andi had spent a long time not trusting her gut, not believing it when it gave her the green light on things. That intuition had let her down a long time ago. But in this moment, she’d never felt more certain of any decision in her life. The feeling deep in the pit of her stomach, at the very core of her, was like the clear ring of a bell on a quiet night resonating through her. What she’d thought was her gut feeling all those years ago when she’d trusted Evan Longdale hadn’t been this, hadn’t felt like this. This was what gut-level knowing really felt like. Her gut hadn’t lied to her back then. She’d simply been outmatched—an innocent child who was victimized by a master manipulator.
As she and Hill stepped through the doorway into the bedroom, she let go of that old story, freeing that ghost who’d haunted her for so long. And silently she whispered to that little girl, I’m sorry. None of it was your fault. But you’re going to be okay.
Andi walked backward into the bedroom, letting Hill unhook her bra and toss it to the floor. Yes. She was definitely going to be okay.
By the time Hill tumbled Andi onto the bed, she was fully naked against the dark-green comforter, her thoughts zeroing in on the man in front of her and her body buzzing with arousal. Hill flicked on a lamp, and she watched him watch her as he finished undressing.
She loved the privilege of seeing him completely bared. Exposing himself like that to her had once been so hard for him. He’d perceived his disability as a weakness, as something to hide. Even after they’d gotten together officially, it had still taken him a month before he let her see him in the wheelchair he sometimes used when his leg was aching too much from the prosthesis.
But now, now he trusted her to see every private part of him, body and soul. It was a gift she didn’t receive lightly. She only wished that he could see what she saw when she looked at him. Strong shoulders, beautiful body, soulful face, a thousand places she wanted to kiss and touch and taste. Every bit of him turned her on.
Hill gave her a sly smile as he sat on the edge of the bed and removed his prosthesis. “I love how you look at me.”
“Like I want to eat you?” she guessed.
He laughed and stretched out next to her, sliding his big hand over her belly. “Something like that.” His hand drifted down between her legs, his fingers finding her slick and ready. “The feeling’s mutual.”
She bit her lip and hummed her approval as he dipped a finger inside her, the sensation of his callused finger sending tingling awareness radiating through her. He was always so focused and precise when it came to her pleasure, like a musician learning every nuance of an instrument. What will this do? What sound will this elicit? What music will this make? He’d also helped her unwind the knotted emotions she’d had about sweet sex, about romantic words in bed. She could enjoy the full range of options now because she trusted Hill without reservation. Romance was no longer a weapon of mass destruction in her world. Slowly, patiently, he’d shown her how good things could be—one sexy experiment at a time. She was more than happy to be his subject of study.
In fact, she was conducting her own experiments as well—a thesis on what made her sexy, quiet man lose all that artful calm. Even after more than a year together, she was still discovering new tricks and ways to drive him crazy. As he teased her, ramping up her arousal, she reached out and wrapped her hand around the smooth, velvet length of his cock, unable to go another second without touching him. She stroked him slowly, loving how thick and hot he felt in her hand, and he let out a soft gasp when she circled her thumb along his slit, spreading the fluid there.
Hill slipped another finger inside her and kissed along her neck as she continued to stroke him. She closed her eyes, relishing the lazy luxury of not having to rush. They could tease each other all night if they wanted. They had nowhere to go, nowhere to be, no pretenses to cling to. This bed was theirs. She could sleep next to him now. Wherever the finish line landed, they’d end up curled together under the covers tonight. This was their life now.
They’d earned this.
So they were damn sure going to enjoy it.
The ceiling fan above her whirled softly on low, sending a cool breeze over her hot skin as Hill continued to dip his fingers into her, his thumb finding her clit and his mouth finding her breast. Her hips rocked in rhythm against him, and she let herself explore him blindly with her hand—cupping him, teasing him, wrapping her fingers around his cock and then backing off when she sensed he was getting too close to the edge.
He did the same for her, bringing her to the brink and then easing her back down, until she was so wound up that her heels were pressing into the mattress and her back was arched. Begging words started to fall past her lips without her permission. She’d wanted to prove she could wait, prove she could be patient, but Hill was playing dirty.
He usually did.
“Please.” Her hand slid off him, her brain no longer able to multitask. “Please.”
He moved his fingers more quickly, his thumb working her sensitive flesh, giving her more pressure. Then, he was shifting on the bed and the blissful wet heat of his mouth landed on the spot where his thumb had been. She cried out, the shock of contact so delicious and overwhelming that she nearly launched herself off the bed. But Hill put a hand on her thigh and held her in place.
Mine, the action whispered.
He gave her pleasure with the focus of a man who had one mission in life, and before she could beg him again, her orgasm crashed through her like the crescendo of a symphony—all cymbals and screaming violins and rumbling drums. She cried out in panting, gulping sounds as she rode the wave of sensation. All thought blinked out of her mind, leaving only clenching muscles and heat and bliss behind.
She grappled for Hill, her fingers digging into the thick muscles of his shoulders. “Need you,” she gasped. “Now.”
She didn’t have to beg this time. Hill quickly shifted on the bed, positioning himself above her and sliding deep, her orgasm still coursing through her. The feel of his cock, like heated steel inside her, was everything she needed in that moment. Her body tightened around him, the pressure and fullness ramping up her orgasm further. Hill murmured unintelligible words and began to rock into her with slow, grinding thrusts.
She’d learned the man had staying power, but right now, she wanted to feel him go over along with her. They’d ditched condoms after she’d gotten on the pill, and she loved the feeling of him coming inside her, the heat of his release, the sounds he made when it happened. She lived for that moment they were both lost to each other and riding the same high.
She dug her nails into his back, sweat glazing both of their bodies, and she kissed him. Hill groaned into her mouth with a primal sound and picked up his pace. The controlled, measured man was letting go. He buried deep and whispered her name, and then they were both launched into the stratosphere together. Clinging to each other, loving each other, promising each other.
Joined. For now. And soon, for always.
Afterward, both of them ended up splayed on their backs on the bed, wrung out and sated, and Andi couldn’t stop smiling. “I feel like I owe you brownies or something.”
Hill laughed and laced his fingers with hers. “That’s how we got into this mess. You brought me baked goods. I never had a chance.”
She pulled his hand up and kissed his knuckles. “I’m glad you opened the door to your pushy neighbor.”
He rolled onto his side and looked down at her. “Best decision I ever made. Even if the brownies were terrible.”
She gasped. “They were not, you food snob.”
He grinned and kissed her. “I still ate every one of them because you had made them.”
She harrumphed, playfully affronted, and he kissed her again. And somehow even though she’d thought she’d been totally spent a few minutes ago, she ended up on top of him and round two began.
She’d never get enough of this man.
Later, when they were finally settled beneath the covers, exhausted and cuddled up naked against each other, Hill tucked her backside against his body. She snuggled into his warmth. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” He pressed his face into her hair, his beard tickling her neck as he let out a soft sigh. “God. I can’t believe I get to keep you.”
Andi closed her eyes, a contented calmness she’d searched for her entire life coming over her. She’d never felt so loved.
So safe.
And when Hill fell asleep next to her, his arm draped over her, she didn’t get a flashback to a night so long ago when she was trapped beneath another man’s arm. In fact, she didn’t think about the past at all.
All she could see was the bright, beautiful future.