Epilogue
HARPER
Six Months Later
“Why am I the only one moving boxes?” I shout through the apartment.
“Are all those muscles just for show?” I walk into the bedroom, looking around and finding no sign of Colton.
I drop the box to the side of the bed, adding to the already growing stack.
I’m not sure what I just brought upstairs since the label simply says stuff.
I start to turn back towards the door and pause, watching the way the light shines off Colton’s badge on his nightstand. I walk over and pick up the shiny piece of metal. It feels heavy in my small hand. This tiny hunk of metal almost broke me, almost broke us.
Still feels weird how quickly our lives blended into each other’s after that day in the hospital.
How my space quickly became our space. And the weirder part, how happy that made me.
I smile as I take in all the small changes to my home in the last few months.
It should feel weird to move in with someone after six months, too quick.
But Colton likes to argue it’s actually ten months, even though I don’t count the time we were together when I didn’t know his name.
Whether it’s six months or ten, it doesn’t feel fast. It feels like he was always meant to be here.
He never asked for more or pushed me to make room for him.
He let me lead, deciding how much I could handle and at the pace I was comfortable with.
I showed him in small ways how much I liked him being here.
A second toothbrush holder in the bathroom, more towels in the linen closet, his favorite snacks in the pantry, a nightstand for his stuff when he slept here.
After a month of him sleeping here every night, he stayed at his own place after a really late night at work, not wanting to wake me up on my night off from the club.
I opened the door at five am, to find him already walking up to my building, wearing the same clothes he had left my apartment in the morning before.
He had no clothes at his own apartment to change into, and I hadn’t slept a wink without him here.
It was the last night I ever wanted to sleep without him again.
Sadie has taken a little more convincing to forgive him for the way he was brought into our lives. But I like to think that with every day he makes me happy, he proves himself to her a little more. Hopefully. Maybe. She’s really good at holding a grudge.
I offered Wade a job at Cirque full time and that seemed to temporarily distract her until the congratulatory dinner, where she sat as far away from Colton as she could possibly get without physically being in the kitchen.
What’s the saying? Hell hath no fury…
Wade and Stella come up the stairs, he’s holding a stack of 4 boxes, mostly labeled “books”, and she’s holding a lamp for the nightstand.
“Thank you guys so much for helping, I don’t know where Colton disappeared to, but want to stick around for dinner? As a thank you,” I offer.
Stella answers first, “I would but I have dinner plans tonight.”
Wade, completely disregarding my invitation, looks to Stella, surprised by her answer.
“Yeah, I’ll have to raincheck too. But I better head out, tell Colton bye for me and that he could have at least tried to carry the books,” he shouts over his shoulder, already descending the steps and out the door.
Stella continues to stare where Wade’s form disappeared.
“You ok?” I ask her, unable to tell if this is new tension, or some kind of awkward interaction I was too wrapped up in my own stuff to see.
She shakes herself, “Yeah, absolutely. I’m great.” Her voice is high and a little annoyed, a new tone for her and one that screams “I’m lying”.
“I’ll see you at the club tomorrow. Bye!” She saunters out the door, leaving me alone with a mountain of boxes to unpack.
“Colton, I am not unpacking all of this by myself get your—”
Hands suddenly grip my waist, lifting me in the air before I’m tossed on the bed, bouncing as I laugh until a hand comes down on my ass, not hard, but enough to make heat pool low in my belly.
“You know these muscles aren’t for show, Sunshine,” Colton chuckles as I turn around. I pull my legs up and cross one over the other as I look him up and down.
“Oh my God, what are you wearing?” I ask, not sure where to look. He’s wearing large polka-dot clown shoes and a matching oversized tie around his neck, his old black work slacks, fitted with the typical Cirque suspenders, topping the whole ensemble with a red foam nose.
He leans forward on the bed, booping my nose with his fake foam one, before quickly lifting back up to fumble through one of the boxes. I’m staring at the way his back flexes, bare under the suspenders, before he pops back up, speaker in hand.
“Colton, we are supposed to be unpacking your stuff!” I yelp as he grabs each of my ankles before tugging me to the end of the bed, letting my short legs dangle over the edge.
He taps his phone a few times before Pony by Ginuwine thrums through the speakers and I throw my head back, laughing.
“Do you remember the first time we met, Ms. Mathers?” he asks, leaning forward to run a hand up each of my thighs, fingers brushing aside the soft material of my lounge shorts.
“I do. Are you looking to make a career change, Mr. Graves?” I breathe, running my fingers up the suspenders before twisting my hand around the material and tugging him closer.
“I remember once you told me my interview was just alright, little liar.” He steps back from between my legs, eyes locked on mine as he slowly kicks off the oversized shoes.
“Can’t say for certain,” I shrug, leaning back to rest my palms against the bed. “Would need a reminder.”
He grins, and it’s feral, making the fresh scar along his hairline pull tight.
, It’s still pink and angry, but healing as well as it could be.
Despite the new scar and new ink, I can still see the man who first walked into my office when he prowls back towards me, slowly loosening the comically large tie around his neck.
It’s hard to imagine I ever saw him as innocent, even then.
There is a glint in his eye, one I foolishly mistook for naivety instead of what it is. Mischief.
He pulls the tie over his head as he steps closer to me, removing the fake red nose as he lasso’s the tie over my head, pulling me towards him for a deep kiss that he breaks too soon.
I reach back out to him, wanting to feel his lips on mine, but he pulls back, keeping his mouth just out of reach as he speaks.
“You want a show, Sunshine?”
I nod my head slowly, playing with the edges of his suspenders, watching him shiver as I trace patterns over his skin with my nails.
“Let me hear it. Tell me what you want.” He lifts his hands, one thumb running circles over my pulse point as the other threads through my hair, holding my head steady for him to trace my jaw with his nose.
I don’t speak right away, lifting my legs to pull him closer, feeling his hard cock pressing through the layers of fabric that separate us. He groans, mouth coming back to mine.
“Say it.”
“Dance for me.”