Epilogue
“I’m pretty sure every man here wishes they were me.”
I smile against Finn’s jaw as we sway to the slow music being played by the group of musicians onstage.
We’ve been on the dance floor for so long that I think the attendance numbers have slimmed by at least half since we arrived.
I tighten my hold on him as he twirls us around and leads with confidence.
His hands remain steady on my lower hips, keeping me close.
“If you’re trying to distract me from what happened earlier, it’s working,” I murmur.
“You’re already distracted, baby. I’m just being honest. You’re a vision, and I’ve somehow got you locked in my arms.”
“They’re the only ones I want to be in, in case I haven’t made that clear yet.”
Finn blows out a laugh before growing quiet. “You know that what Spencer said wasn’t true, right?”
“Which part?”
“You’re not a bitch. And there’s nothing wrong with going on dates. His anger toward you stems from his own insecurities.”
I smooth my hand across his back, leaning impossibly closer. “I know. He’s not the first man I’ve dealt with who doesn’t know how to deal with a successful woman.”
And he won’t be the last. Not by a long shot.
Letting my eyes wander, I can see the gold-topped tables beside the stage emptying as guests stand and gather their coats.
Victor’s currently shaking hands with an unfamiliar man and flashing a grin that I’ve seen a thousand times.
It’s his selling smile, the kind he reserves for when he knows he’s about to get a hefty deposit in his bank account.
Graham’s a few feet away, sipping from a half-full glass at one of the empty tables. His deep navy jacket is draped over the back of his chair as he reclines and examines the clients still drifting through the ballroom. When he spots Rowena, his gaze lingers before carrying on.
My boss has been moving through the room like a woman on a mission all night.
I don’t think I’ve caught her sitting for longer than a few seconds to chat with someone before she was rising and finding another target.
She’s exactly who I aspire to be. The type of woman whom I looked up to as a child and dreamed of becoming in my teen years.
Her work ethic is one that I based my own on.
I’ve done everything possible to make her proud.
And she is.
That reminder is what’s helped me quiet the nagging voice in my head that’s been urging me to follow her lead all night.
It feels wrong not to go person to person introducing myself and mingling with the firm’s clients in hopes that they’ll remember my name long after the night is over instead of just my boss’.
For someone who’s spent the last nine years revolving her entire orbit around her career, it’s harder than it looks to push all of that aside and try to realign myself.
Then I remember that I’ve already risen higher than I expected in half the timeline.
The hours I’ve put in locked away in my office and the courtroom wins that get shared firm to firm far exceed any amount of sweet talk I could make tonight.
While this was supposed to be a night to network and expand my client base, I can’t find it in myself to part from Finn.
Not yet, anyway. For now, the fake smiles and how are yous can wait.
I’m capable of making a name for myself without working a room full of rich, successful men whom I know I’d need to prove myself to just to garner a smidge of appreciation.
The potential gossip and grumbled judgment from those who don’t know me doesn’t bother me right now.
“I think it’s sexy how confident you are,” Finn admits, his lips ghosting the tip of my ear.
“That’s because you’re not like everyone else. You’re different.”
“Different,” he repeats, and I can feel his grin against my cheek.
“You’re not intimidated by me because you’re confident in yourself. You don’t see my wins as your losses. Me having a career that I love makes you proud, not worried that I’ll choose it over you. And I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you for that. So . . . thank you.”
His fingers press deeper into my softness, grounding me. “I’m so proud of you, Bree. And I’ll always be your biggest cheerleader.”
“I hope you know that I’m proud of you, too.
I’m not always at your games to scream for you when you get a strikeout or wear your jersey to show off how badly I love you, but I never stop wishing that I could be.
You’ve never put pressure on me to travel with you or take more time off to attend more of your home games, but if that’s what you want, I can try. ”
He shakes his head just once and drags his warm palm up past the low back of my dress to my bare skin.
I shiver. “Don’t start with that. I don’t need you to sit in the stands to know that you’re thinking about me or that you’re proud of how I play.
Yeah, I love seeing you in my jersey, but I’d rather have you wearing it at home so I can take it off of you when I get home. ”
Heat trickles up my throat as I press my lips to his jaw. Want pools in my belly. Thinking about him coming home from a game to find me waiting for him, wearing nothing but his jersey and a coy smile . . .
“And when it comes to travelling to my away games, I don’t need that.
You can keep my bed warm instead, alright?
I want the scent of your shampoo on my pillows and your lotion on my sheets so I can smell you every night that I’m back home.
As long as you let me hear your voice while I’m gone, we’ll be just fine. ”
“How do you have the right answers to everything?”
“Because you’re mine,” he states simply.
And I believe him.
“What if I get gravy all over my dress?” I ask.
The string lights hanging off the front of the hot dog truck are lit tonight when Finn snags our containers from the window and hands mine over.
My stomach hasn’t stopped growling since we left the gala.
Finn wasn’t stingy with his donation to the woman’s shelter, and I can still see Spencer’s beady little eyes glaring at us when he heard about it.
I didn’t expect him to take us here before we went back to my place, but I can’t think of a more perfect ending to our night than being right here with my best friend.
“Then we’ll get it dry cleaned. Don’t argue, baby. Just eat your hot dog while the cheese is gooey.”
I give in and take a large bite while we head to our table. It’s pretty quiet here tonight, meaning we can chow down without worrying about Finn wearing his hat or sunglasses. Unlike our first date, there isn’t anything in the way of the warm eyes that always seem to be watching me.
The gravy burns my tongue a bit when I chew, but that doesn’t keep me from smiling with my lips closed and cheeks slightly puffed. Finn’s puff out when he grins and reaches over, using his thumb to wipe the corner of my lips.
“I can’t wait to get out of these clothes. This bow tie is choking me,” he says while offering me a hand up onto the top of the table.
My toes are cramped in my heels. I didn’t have time to break them in fully before wearing them tonight, so the moment I sit on the table and get off my feet, I nearly moan from the relief. Finn takes a seat beside me, so close our shoulders touch.
I set my hot dog container down by my thigh and twist so that I can begin pulling at his bow tie. He doesn’t say a word while I work, undoing it with surprisingly steady fingers. His skin is hot when my knuckles brush his throat and the back of his neck.
“I was half expecting you to just use a clip-on one,” I tease.
“Not a chance. I wanted to impress you.”
Looking up from his neck, I stare into his eyes and quirk my lips. “Well, you did. Very much so.”
His fingers climb my spine before finding the base of my skull and pressing deep.
The tension pulsing beneath his touch is from my updo, and the relief beneath his gentle massaging is instant.
I shut my eyes, a weightless feeling growing when he begins pulling each pin out.
My curls fall one by one, draping down my bare back.
“That’s better,” he rasps.
I roll my head forward, giving him more room to work. The moment my hair is down, he’s diving his fingers into the mess of curls and rubbing every ache and pain away from my scalp. It’s heaven, and I moan softly, closing my eyes.
His voice drifts over me, so soft it might put me to sleep. “I remember doing this after prom, too. Only you’d used at least a hundred more bobby pins. And your hair was shorter.”
“You remember a lot.”
“As much as I can. There isn’t anything that I want to forget.”
“Including my date to said prom?” I smile as big as I can with how heavy my eyes have gotten.
“Mm, maybe not. I should have asked you to come with me instead.”
“You’re the one who got me the corsage, so in a way, I was your date.”
His chuckle trickles over my arms at the same time the cool breeze picks up, bringing goosebumps to the surface. I shiver at the change in temperature, and his hand drops from my hair.
“Don’t frown. I’m just getting my jacket off,” he says.
When I peek my eyes open, I find him grinning smugly while shrugging his arms out of his suit jacket. Once done, he drapes it over my shoulders and does the first button up to keep it in place.
“Thank you.”
He returns his hands to my hair, this time lifting it up in a loose fist before sliding his fingers beneath the mass of curls. “You’re welcome. How about you eat for me so we can go home?”
“I’m not hungry anymore,” I lie. My head is heavy when I lean it on his shoulder and close my eyes again. “I just want to lay here for a minute.”
He breathes in a long, soft inhale. “Alright, sweetheart.”
“I’m glad you took me here tonight.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I wanted to see the lights with you like this. It’s the same, but different.”
He hums low in his throat, still massaging my scalp. “I’ll take you here every night if that’s what you want.”
It sounds like a dream. The kind that sounds so simple yet fills my stomach with a dozen sets of flapping wings. I’d get tired of the hot dogs and the cheap string lights, but Finn?
Being with him is one thing I’ll never get enough of.