The Misfit (Oakmount Elite #5)

Epilogue

Three Months Later

-Salem

The setting sun casts long shadows across The Mill’s front lawn as I park my car, wondering what Lee has planned. Three months of real dating, of sober kisses, of learning each other’s patterns in new ways, and he still finds a way to surprise me. Still makes my heart race with simple texts like: Meet me at The Mill. 7 p.m. Trust me.

I spot the note immediately, weighed down by a silk blindfold on the front steps. The paper is a crumpled sticky note, but the handwriting is unmistakably Lee’s.

Put it on. Come inside. Let me lead you somewhere special.

P.S. Everything’s clean. Counted three times. Just for you.

P.P.S. I love you.

My fingers trace the silk blindfold—burgundy, like my old gloves, like the dress from that night on the cliffs, like everything significant in our story. The soft material is expensive and carefully chosen like everything Lee does for me now.

I should feel nervous about this. Should need something to calm me before this. But three more months of real love, of genuine trust, of learning each other’s needs have changed things. Changed us.

The blindfold slides over my eyes easily, silk cool against my skin. I’ve come so far from the girl who needed three pairs of gloves just to feel safe. The girl who counted ceiling tiles before entering rooms. The girl who met a chaos-bringing boy in a pantry and thought she could never be suitable for anyone.

Now I stand here, voluntarily blindfolded, trusting Lee completely. Because he’s earned that trust. Because he’s proven worthy of it. Because he understands my patterns aren’t prison cells anymore, just like I understand his chaos isn’t destruction anymore.

My hand finds the door handle, and I smile at the familiar feel of recently sanitized metal. Of course he cleaned everything. Of course he counted three times. Of course he made sure I would feel safe even in darkness.

Because that’s love.

Real love.

The kind worth counting on.

I step inside, letting the door close behind me, letting anticipation build in my veins. Whatever Lee has planned, whatever game he wants to play, whatever path he’s leading me down …

I trust him.

I choose him.

I love him.

And that’s worth walking into darkness for.

“Follow my voice,” Lee calls from somewhere to my left, his tone playful but gentle. “Unless you’re scared?”

The challenge in his voice makes me smile behind the blindfold. He knows I’m not scared—not of him, not anymore. Not since we learned to trust each other’s patterns and chaos in equal measure.

“You’ll have to do better than that,” I tease back, moving toward his voice. The floor is clean beneath my feet—he really did think of everything. “I know all your tricks by now.”

His laughter echoes through the house, bouncing off walls in ways that make it hard to track. But I know this game he’s playing. Know he’s leading me on a specific path. Know every step has been planned and counted and prepared.

“Do you?” His voice comes from a different direction now, somehow both farther and closer. “Know all my tricks? Because I think …” He pauses, and I hear movement above me. “I think I still have a few surprises left.”

Heat pools in my belly at his tone—that perfect mix of playful and dangerous that only Lee can manage. My other senses heighten behind the blindfold, catching subtle sounds: his careful footsteps, his measured breathing, his deliberate movements through the house.

“You’re overthinking,” he calls out, closer now. So close I can almost feel his presence. “Stop counting steps and just … feel.”

He’s right. I’m falling into old patterns, trying to measure and map and control. But that’s not what this game is about. Not what he’s trying to show me.

“That’s it,” he murmurs as I relax, letting instinct guide me. “Trust yourself. Trust me. Trust us.”

The word “us” still sends shivers down my spine. Still feels like a miracle and destiny and choice all wrapped into one. Still makes me want to count my blessings instead of my fears.

His footsteps retreat again, leading me on this careful chase through darkness. But it’s not really darkness anymore. Not with him here. Not with love lighting the way.

“Getting warmer,” he teases as I follow, letting my fingers trail along clean walls. “Or should I say … getting closer to where everything began?”

The pantry. Of course. Where else would this path lead? Where else would Lee bring me for whatever he has planned?

My heart races, but not from anxiety or fear. From anticipation. From trust. From love.

Because whatever waits in that pantry, whatever game Lee’s playing, whatever path he’s leading me down … I’m ready for it.

His footsteps quicken, and I follow the sound, almost catching him around what feels like the main staircase. My hand brushes fabric—his shirt maybe—but he dances away with a low laugh that sends heat coursing through my veins.

“Almost,” he teases, voice rough with something more than playfulness. “But not quite fast enough, baby. Come find me.”

I know these halls now, even blindfolded. Know the path to our pantry like I know my own heartbeat. Know Lee’s leading me there with deliberate precision, each step calculated to build anticipation.

“You’re doing that thing again,” he calls, voice echoing slightly. “That thing where you try to make patterns out of chaos. Where you try to predict instead of just feeling.” A pause, then he’s closer. “Stop thinking so hard and just chase me.”

He’s right. Again. Always. Even blindfolded, even in darkness, even playing this game of cat and mouse, I’m trying to control everything. Trying to map his movements. Trying to calculate instead of feel.

“That’s not what tonight’s about,” he murmurs, suddenly right behind me. His breath ghosts across my neck, making me shiver. “Tonight’s about trust. About letting go. About…”

He doesn’t finish, pulling away before I can turn toward his voice. But I hear what he doesn’t say. Tonight’s about us. About how far we’ve come. About everything we’ve built together.

My fingers trail along the wall, recognizing the texture of expensive wallpaper. We’re close now. Close to the pantry where everything began. Close to whatever Lee has planned. Close to …

“Remember that night?” His voice carries memories of our first meeting. “You hiding from chaos, me hiding from everything …”

The words hit like truth, like love, like everything real we’ve built together. Because we do choose each other. Every day. Every moment. Every step toward whatever waits in that pantry.

“Almost there.” I can almost hear the smile in his voice. “Almost where everything changed. Where everything began. Where everything …”

He trails off again, but I understand because I feel it, too. The significance of this place. The weight of this moment. The love building between us with every step of this careful chase.

We’re not just heading toward the pantry.

We’re heading toward our future.

We’re heading toward everything.

And I can’t wait to catch him.

His hands find me in the darkness, warm and sure against my waist. No hesitation, no careful measuring of space, no asking permission—because he doesn’t need to anymore. Because we’ve earned this trust. Because we’ve built this safety between us.

“Found you,” I whisper, though really he found me. Found all of me, even the parts I tried to hide behind gloves and counting and careful patterns.

“Always,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my ear. His fingers trail up my sides, finding the blindfold’s edge. “Ready?”

I nod, anticipation building as he slowly removes the silk. The pantry comes into focus, and my breath catches at what he’s done with the space.

Soft lights twinkle everywhere—not harsh fluorescents that show imperfections, but gentle warmth that makes everything glow. The shelves have been cleared, clean surfaces gleaming in the low light. Everything measures perfectly, everything counts precisely, everything aligns exactly right.

“You did all this?” My voice comes out breathless, taking in every detail. The careful preparation. The perfect arrangement. The way he’s transformed our beginning into something new.

“Three times,” he confirms, his chest pressing against my back, his arms wrapping around my waist. “Cleaned everything. Counted everything. Made it perfect.” His lips find my neck, making me shiver. “For you. For us. For this moment.”

I lean back into him, trusting his strength, his stability, his love. Because that’s what this is really about—not just the physical space he’s prepared, but the emotional one he’s created. The safety he’s built. The future he’s planning.

“The first time I saw you here,” he murmurs between kisses along my shoulder, “you were counting breaths to stay calm. Wearing three pairs of gloves to feel safe. Trying so hard to control everything around you.”

“And you were drowning yourself in bourbon,” I remind him, tilting my head to give him better access. “Hiding behind chaos and rebellion and carefully constructed walls.”

“Look at us now.” His hands slide down my arms, finding my bare fingers and lacing them with his. “No gloves. No bourbon. No walls between us.”

The truth of that settles in my chest like sunshine. Because we have changed. Grown. Healed. Not into normal people, but into better versions of ourselves. Versions that love each other’s differences instead of trying to fix them.

“Lee,” I start, but he turns me in his arms, pressing me gently against the pantry wall.

“You’re mine now, Salem. And I want to worship you right here where it all began.”

He moves to sink to his knees, but I stop him with a hand on his arm. “No, it’s my turn to taste you.

Lee’s eyes darken with desire as I guide him back against the opposite wall. “Your turn?” he murmurs, a hint of challenge in his voice. “You sure about that?”

I nod, trailing my fingers down his chest. “I’m sure. I want to show you how much I trust you. How much I love you.”

His breath catches as I slowly sink to my knees, maintaining eye contact. This is new territory for us—me taking control and initiating this level of intimacy. But that’s what tonight is about, isn’t it?

New beginnings. New trust. New love.

“Salem,” he breathes, his hand cupping my cheek. “You don’t have to?—”

“I want to,” I assure him, turning to press a kiss to his palm. “Let me take care of you for once.”

His eyes flutter closed as I undo his belt, his breathing quickening. I can feel the tension in his body, the way he’s holding himself back. Always so careful with me. Always so mindful of my boundaries.

“It’s okay,” I murmur, nuzzling against his hip. “You can let go. I’ve got you.”

A shudder runs through Lee’s body at my words, his fingers tangling in my hair. I can feel the moment he surrenders, truly letting himself be vulnerable with me. Having this much power over someone I love so deeply is a heady feeling.

I take my time, savoring every inch of him. The pantry fills with the sounds of his ragged breathing, soft moans escaping his lips as I worship him with my mouth. His hips twitch, fighting to stay still, always so careful not to push too far.

“It’s okay,” I murmur again, pulling back to meet his gaze. “You don’t have to hold back. Not with me. Not anymore.”

Something breaks in his expression—relief, love, desire all mingling together. His hand tightens in my hair, guiding me back to him. This time when I take him in my mouth, he lets himself move and feel without restraint.

Watching him come undone is beautiful. Knowing I’m the one who brought him to this point. Knowing he trusts me enough to let go completely.

When he finally comes, my name on his lips like a prayer, I feel a sense of pride and deep satisfaction. I’ve never seen Lee so undone, so vulnerable. His chest heaves as he catches his breath, eyes still closed, head tipped back against the pantry wall. I rise slowly, pressing soft kisses along his body as I go.

“Salem,” he murmurs, pulling me close. “That was …”

“I know.” I nuzzle into his neck. “For me, too.”

We stand there for a long moment, just holding each other, basking in the afterglow and the intimacy we’ve created. Lee’s hands trace gentle patterns on my back, and I can feel his heartbeat gradually slowing beneath my palm.

“I love you,” he says softly, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “So much.”

“I love you, too,” I reply, tilting my face up to meet his gaze. “Thank you for all of this. For trusting me. For letting me see you like that.”

A slow smile spreads across his face, tender and a little awed. “Thank you for trusting yourself. For taking control. For showing me a new side of you.”

I feel a blush creep up my cheeks, but I don’t look away. Because he’s right. This is a new side of me. A bolder, more confident version that I’m still getting to know.

“It felt good,” I admit softly. “Being the one in control for once.”

Lee’s smile widens, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. “Oh yeah? Well, don’t get too used to it. I still have plans for you tonight.”

A shiver of anticipation runs down my spine at his words. “Is that so? And what exactly did you have in mind?”

Instead of answering, Lee spins us around, pressing me back against the pantry wall. His lips find mine in a searing kiss that leaves me breathless. When he pulls back, his eyes are dark with renewed desire.

“First,” he murmurs, trailing kisses along my jaw, “I’m going to return the favor. Show you just how much I appreciate what you just did for me.”

He nibbles down my neck. “Then we are going to go see Ely and Sebastian’s baby since they have been cloistered up. Sebastian being overprotective until Bel put her foot down about seeing her niece.”

His mouth raises and switches to the other side. “After that, I’m taking you home, undressing you, and we’ll spend the night trading control. How does that sound?”

I shove at his chest a little and make him meet my eyes. “Does this mean I get to peg you?”

He sputters, and then tilts his head like he’s considering. “Salem Masters, am I turning you into a wild child after all? How do you even know what pegging is?”

I clear my throat, heat creeping into my cheeks. “Well, I did some googling about bisexuality, and well, that came up a little bit.”

He grabs my hand and tugs me out of the pantry. “New plan. Go see the baby, go home, and I want to see what kind of porn you’ve been watching without me.”

My heart feels full as he practically shoves me into the car, and we drive away. I can still taste him on my lips, and I snatch up the iced tea he has waiting in the cup holder. It seems like I’m in for a long night.

The End

Thank you for reading The Misfit.