The Two Week Stand by Samantha Towle

epilogue

West

“Beer and a Long Island iced tea,” I tell the bartender.

Dillon and I are back on the island where we first met three years ago. I’m sitting in the bar, on the exact stool my bored ass was sitting on when I first laid eyes on her. Only I’m not bored this time. I’m actually nervous as fuck.

I’ve just ordered the same damn drinks we both had on that first meeting. The bartender is the same guy who served me all those years ago. He actually remembers us. Well, he remembers Dillon and how drunk she was that night.

Although, drunk or sober, my girl is unforgettable.

And, yes, even though Dillon was wasted that night and remembers very little about it, I remember everything. That night changed my life. She changed my life.

These last three years with her have been amazing. Just being with her, living with her, loving her … it’s so effortless. We fit together. We make each other happy. We make each other better. Well, she makes me better. Dillon was already awesome as fuck.

In the last few years that we’ve been together, my game has only improved. Coach was right when he said Dillon made a difference in my game. Because she makes me happy. When I’m happy, I play at my best.

I can’t believe that I ever thought I didn’t need someone. That I didn’t need her. Dillon is my whole life. Every decision I make, I make with her in mind.

Dillon’s career is soaring, and I’m so fucking proud of her. She’s released three books in the time we’ve been together, including The Two-Week Stand, which absolutely flew off the shelves. It became an overnight best seller, landing on a bunch of lists, one being The New York Times. Dillon absolutely freaked when she got the news. We had a big celebration that night. The books Dillon has written since The Two-Week Stand have all been a part of a series following on from it but about different characters, which, of course, are fictional. We’ve never told anyone that the book is based on our first meeting. That’s something we want to keep private between the two of us.

Dillon has been working so hard recently; we both have. Shejust finished up writing the first book in a new series,so I brought her here on vacation for a bit of R&R. But that’s not the only reason I brought her.

Today is actually the third anniversary to the day when we first met.

She’s back at the villa, showering, getting ready for dinner. Yes, it’s the villa that I stayed in when I was first here.

It was the place where we spent our first night together. Even if I did sleep on the chaise and Dillon was in the bed. It was also the place where we had sex for the first time.

That villa holds a lot of special memories.

Seems I’ve turned into a sentimental fucking sap. But I’m in love, so sue me.

I told Dillon I’d meet her at the bar after she finished getting ready. She’s been known to take her time in getting dressed up. But that’s not the reason I came out first. I’d wait for-fucking-ever for Dillon.

I wanted to be here, so I’d be sitting here, waiting for her. Like I had that first night. Not that I knew then that I was waiting for her. Or maybe I was always waiting for her, but I didn’t fucking know it.

Although, tonight, I’d like it if she made an appearance sooner rather than later because I’m starting to sweat like a bitch and it has nothing to do with the heat.

I take a drink of beer and then check my watch. She shouldn’t be much longer.

I glance around the bar. There are a few people here. Not too many—thank fuck. I might like an audience when I’m on the field with a ball in my hands, but generally, I’m a private person.

Not that I’m afforded that while my dad is still in office. He got elected for a second term. It wasn’t the happiest of days for me. I was pleased for my country. But selfishly, I was more than ready to get my privacy and life back. Although when he was reelected, it was a fuck of a lot easier since I had Dillon in my life. She has a way of making me feel okay about everything.

Mostly when she’s naked.

But there isn’t much longer left, and then his presidency will be over. Then, I’ll be free from the constraints of being the president’s son. Although my life has been overshadowed by his presidency, there was definitely a change when my game improved and I was kicking major ass on the field. I was being talked about more for my game than for who my father was. And the fact that I was finally dating someone definitely caught the press’s interest. So, when I’m mentioned in the news now, it’s more for my sport or my relationship with the best-selling author of The Two-Week Stand.

A flash of red catches my eye, and I turn my head to see my girl walking into the bar.

My heart speeds up in my chest. It never gets old, looking at her. I get the same reaction now as I did when I saw her walking through the bar three years ago. Granted, she’s not stumbling on drunk legs this time. She’s sashaying confidently toward me, and she’s wearing my favorite red dress. It’s short, showing off her gorgeous legs. It hugs her tits, giving good cleavage. What’s not to like about it?

Well, apart from when other men stare at her in it, which is currently happening right now. That pisses me off. Jealousy—another thing I didn’t know I could feel until Dillon.

Dillon is beautiful, so men are going to ogle her. Doesn’t mean I have to like it. But I love the fact that it’s me she’s with and no one else. And I intend to be with her until we’re old and wrinkly with one foot in the grave.

Reaching me, she slides in between the stool and presses her hand to my chest. “Hey, handsome.”

She kisses me on the lips. When she goes to move back, I cup her face and kiss her deeper, sliding my tongue into her mouth, loving the soft moan she makes, which, of course, shoots straight to my dick.

Down, boy. There’ll be time for that later.

When I release her, she’s breathing a little harder, her face and chest flushed. “Get a room.” She grins, sliding her cute ass onto the stool next to me.

“Got one—with the hottest girl on the island,” I respond.

“Oh yeah?” She picks up her drink and takes a sip from the straw. “Do I know her?”

I love it when we play little games like this.

But I have a feeling that the way I thought this moment was going to happen—the one I’ve been planning out in my head for months—is not at all going to go the way I thought it would.

But from the moment I met Dillon, nothing has gone as I planned. That’s what I love about us. Our life together is constantly full of surprises.

“Probably not. And you probably shouldn’t sit here either. Or kiss me for that matter. She gets real jealous. Like crazy-mad jealous. She’d totally kick your ass.”

She raises a brow, chewing on her straw. “She sounds awesome.”

“She is.” I bring my bottle to my lips and take a drink. “I actually met her on this island. Three years ago today in fact.”

When I look at her, her eyes have softened. “That so? Well, happy anniversary.”

She tilts her glass in my direction, and I tap it with my bottle.

“Yeah … and please don’t tell her this because it’s a surprise.” I lean a little closer, lowering my voice. “But I brought her here to ask her to marry me. I plan on proposing tonight.”

She gasps, and her eyes widen.

She blinks a few times.

Her throat works on a swallow.

And my heart is fucking racing.

I turn in my seat toward her and pull the ring box from my pocket.

Then, I slide off my chair, getting to my feet, and crack open the box. “What do you think of the ring? You think she’ll like it? I had it specially designed with her in mind. Red’s her color.”

The ring is a red trillion cut diamond, surrounded by small diamonds, set in a platinum band. It cost a fucking fortune, but she is beyond worth it.

Dillon swallows and moistens her lips with her tongue, her eyes fixed on the ring in my hand. “I, uh … I think she’ll love it.”

Her eyes lift to mine. I see love and happiness swimming in them, and my heart thumps.

“She’s a lucky girl.”

“I think so.” I grin, and she laughs softly, nudging me with her knee. “But in all honesty, I’m the lucky one. She changed my life. Changed me for the better.”

She sniffles. “I’m betting she thinks the same things about you.”

I stare at her a beat. Staring into those eyes that first captivated me and never let me go. And I never want them to let me go.

“So … do you think there might be a chance that she’ll say yes to marrying me?”

“Oh, I think there’s a one thousand percent chance that she’ll say yes.”

“A thousand percent, huh?”

“Yep.”

“Dillon?”

“What?”

“Will you marry me?”

A smile and then, “Yes. A thousand percent yes.”

I slide the ring on her finger, and then I kiss her.

“I love you,” I say against her lips, my hands cupping her face.

“Love you too.”

I kiss her again, and then I keep kissing her.

Because I plan on spending the rest of my life kissing her.

Dillon and I might have started out as a two-week stand, but we’re forever now.

A real happily ever after.