Epilogue
MONTY
I had the VIP view of the hottest concert ever, and the superstar currently glowing on stage was my boyfriend. My mate. And he was about to sing about our love.
Smug didn’t even begin to cover it.
“Thank you.” Laurel’s soft voice, amplified by the sound system, made the air feel thicker around us. “This last one is for you-know-who. Kiss your loved ones tonight, people!”
One of the huge screens above the stage showed a close-up of Laurel’s face as he winked. The arena went insane.
“Holy fuck,” I muttered. The sound of more than thirty thousand people yelling made me shudder.
Jordy tightened his arm around my back, and I leaned into his warmth.
The drummer began the now-familiar intro, and Laurel struck his guitar strings. As soon as he sang the first word into the microphone, the crowd quieted.
Laurel’s newest album was titled Magnificent Mess, after the song he wrote about us.
He recorded it in the spring at the new studio he’d had built by the chalet.
Tonight was the last of only three concerts, all of which sold out within minutes of being announced.
Laurel wasn’t going on tour anytime soon.
In fact, we were headed home tomorrow, and Laurel had nothing booked for the rest of the summer.
My body always reacted in the strangest ways when my omega sang. I used to get shivers from Laurel’s performances long before I’d met him in person. But listening to him now? Knowing he was ours? I didn’t think I’d ever find the words to describe the feeling.
When the song ended, I had tears in my eyes. Jordy kissed my cheek and rubbed my back.
“Love you both so much,” I mumbled. He probably didn’t hear me over the deafening applause, but he knew. I told him all the time.
My sight was blurry, so I wiped my eyes. Suddenly, Jordy nudged me.
I refocused on the stage and saw Laurel looking directly at us.
The masses were still screaming and stomping, and Laurel gestured with his hand at us and mouthed, “Come here.”
My throat went dry. Up there? Onto the stage? Now?
Laurel grinned and waved with both arms, the guitar dangling on the belt around his torso.
“Montgomery, Orson, get up here,” he said into the microphone. The audience took a collective breath only to scream louder.
Jordy grabbed my elbow and pulled.
I didn’t know how I managed to climb the short flight of stairs from the small fenced-in VIP area and up onto the stage. I felt hands on my other arm, probably security. Jordy steadied me when I stumbled on the last step.
The noise in the stadium reached a seismic level.
The lights blinded me for a moment, and then Laurel was holding my hand.
He kissed me on the lips, then turned to kiss Jordy, who now stood by his other side. After the short kiss, he lifted our joined hands above his head.
Well shit.
The sea of people erupted once more. The immense crowd looked terrifying from this angle, with searchlights swirling overhead. If those bodies moved forward all at the same time… But they just cheered and pointed their phone cameras at us.
“Thank you! Good night!” Laurel shouted in the direction of the microphone.
He tugged on my hand, and I followed him out of the spotlight in a daze.
“Tonight was an absolute triumph, Laurel. How do you feel?” one reporter asked.
We were seated on a sectional sofa in one of the backstage rooms in the arena while a throng of podcasters and other media folks crouched awkwardly in front of us. This interview was the last thing on tonight’s schedule before we could head back to the hotel.
“Fantastic. It was a great crowd. I loved every minute.”
“They loved you,” another reporter said, and Laurel offered one of his perfectly professional smiles.
I could bet these people wouldn’t be able to tell how exhausted he was, but I saw.
The weeks after the album’s official release and the series of concerts had been absolutely bonkers, stuffed with events, interviews, and show appearances.
We’d been with Laurel through everything.
We had to hire people back in Beauville to take care of the pub and B&B, and I was on job-related calls almost every day, but we made it work.
None of us were ready to be apart, and while I didn’t enjoy having so many eyes on me, it was exciting to witness Laurel in superstar mode.
Jordy was having the time of his life, the bastard. The cameras loved him.
“What’s the plan now?” asked someone from the back of the room. The reporters looked at all three of us.
“We’re leaving tomorrow,” Jordy said.
“Are you headed back to the mountains?”
Laurel shrugged. “Eventually. We might travel for a bit first.”
That was a lie. We were going back to Beauville first thing in the morning. Laurel wanted to hole up at the chalet until fall, but nobody needed to know that.
Last winter, a group of fans and paparazzi invaded Beauville after Laurel disclosed his relationship status, but the weather solved the problem for us.
Nobody was stupid enough to hang around town during snowstorms, especially since the locals refused to offer accommodation or serve food to anyone they considered suspicious.
As the weather got better in the spring, we had a few incidents with so-called journalists climbing trees around the chalet with zoom lenses and whatnot, but after a few unpleasant wildlife encounters, they gave up.
The property was now gated, and Laurel’s security had good control of the perimeter.
Laurel also hired a couple of young shifters from Beauville for extra protection when he stayed there.
I must have zoned out for a bit. Jordy shifted, making the sofa cushions move under my ass, and I jerked back to life.
“This question is for you, Montgomery and Orson. How does it feel to listen to Laurel perform? And I’m talking especially about the last song of the evening.”
Three microphones appeared right in front of my mouth, and I couldn’t help but glance at the big-ass camera lens to the left. I gulped around the lump in my throat.
The good people of Beauville were having a blast making fun of me because the whole fucking world thought I was the quiet one. I just never knew what to say when I was being recorded.
“In love,” I managed to stammer out. God, I was a mess.
Laurel kissed my cheek, which was met with ridiculously soppy grins and awws.
Then they turned to Jordy.
“And you, Orson?”
“I’ll whisper the answer into Laurel’s ear later tonight,” Jordy rasped in his deepest bedroom voice, running his hand up and down Laurel’s thigh.
The reporter closest to us smiled like he’d won something. I imagined Jordy’s comment would go viral in a few hours. Again.
Laurel’s assistant, Sam, glared at Jordy, but his lips twitched. Then he clapped loudly.
“Thank you so much, everyone. We’re going to let Laurel get some sleep now.”
“You just can’t help it, can you?” Sam didn’t hold back now that we were alone. Only a couple of guards were trailing us as we walked down a long hallway toward the garages.
“It’s part of my persona, isn’t it? I’m the cocky bad boy.” Jordy loved throwing the media training bullshit back into Sam’s face whenever he could.
“We agreed on nothing explicit,” Sam said stiffly.
“And I haven’t said anything explicit,” Jordy replied.
“He’s right,” Laurel pointed out.
Ignoring the comment, Sam swiveled and, walking backward, he jabbed a finger at Jordy. “I’m serious, Jordan. A single sex joke and you’re banned from speaking out loud.”
Jordy lifted his hands, palms up. “Sure. But it’s going to get very quiet since Monty goes mute whenever there’s a camera pointed at us.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Good thing I got a raise.”
“Deservedly,” Laurel said. “But hey, you yourself told me that Jordy’s stunts contribute to my visibility.”
“As long as he keeps them PG-rated,” Sam grumbled.
“Sex sells, Sam,” Jordy said. “With the amount of PR experience you have, you should know that.”
“Laurel,” Sam groaned. It sounded like a plea for help.
“Jordy,” Laurel said. “Tone it down, please.”
We entered the garage and piled into the back of the limo. Sam opened one of the prepared bottles, poured himself a glass, and then handed the champagne to Jordy.
He was smiling fondly now. Despite his protests, Sam seemed to be enjoying himself.
Laurel rested his head on my shoulder and put one of his legs on Jordy’s lap.
“Fuck, I feel like I’ve run a marathon,” he muttered. “I’m not used to this anymore.”
“The tub at the hotel is huge. How about a warm bath before bed?” I offered.
“Yes, please.”
At the hotel, Sam went directly to his room, and we closed ourselves in the top-floor suite.
Both the tub and the bed were big enough for all of us, but we wouldn’t do sex stuff tonight.
Laurel could barely keep his eyes open through his evening routine and fell asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow.
Jordy and I were keyed up after the concert. We lay awake for a while, gazing at each other, then at Laurel between us, and at each other again. Jordy’s eyes glistened, reflecting the city lights behind the gauzy curtains.
“This has been fun, huh?” he whispered.
“Yeah. But I can’t wait to go home.”
“Me too.” He exhaled, running his fingers gently over Laurel’s hair, then down his shoulder and under the covers. “I’ve been thinking about Laurel’s hiatus from performing. Do you think our boy is going to miss the circus?”
I gave it a thought. “Not anytime soon. But when he does, we’ll go with him, right?”
He smiled. “You’ll need a Sam for the business. And someone permanent for the B&B.”
“Then we’ll find a Sam. I’m not worried. Are you?”
“No.” His smile was soft. “I love you,” he murmured quietly.
I’d never get tired of hearing him say that. “I love you too,” I replied.
Closing his eyes, he laced our fingers together over Laurel’s hip.