Chapter 47
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Sloane
I can’t believe it’s already the end of the year. Where did the days even go?
The last two months have been a whirlwind. Up and down, twists and turns, some real shit show moments, and some that could be straight out of a dream. But right now, I’m feeling something I haven’t in a long time: peace.
Real peace.
Roman is in the bathroom, making sure every strand of his hair is in place.
I swear, he’s more high-maintenance than I am. But something is endearing about it; he’s trying to hold on to his rockstar image even when the whole town can see him in ridiculous Christmas sweaters and too-tight jeans.
He’s pacing in front of the mirror, fixing his jacket, adjusting the collar like he’s about to head out for an arena show instead of a tiny town celebration.
But I’m not complaining. If that’s how he wants to look tonight, I’ll let him. Somebody has to bring the glam to Coyote Glen.
I lean against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching him in what I hope is a way that doesn’t make me look like I’m stalking him. “You good in there, or do I need to call a stylist?”
Roman glances at me in the mirror and gives me that ridiculous smirk of his. “Not like you’d know anything about style. Your scarf’s crooked.”
I look down at it, tugging it into place. “It’s supposed to be like this. It’s fashion forward.”
He raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Sure. If ‘I just rolled out of bed’ is your look.”
“I’ll have you know this is my well-thought-out bed head,” I say, pushing away from the doorframe and making my way toward the closet to grab my jacket.
A black dress, a cozy scarf, and boots that are more about practicality than anything else, but it works. I’m warm, and I’m comfortable. And happy too.
Roman’s still staring at himself in the mirror when I grab my jacket, pulling it on with a little more force than necessary. “You’re doing that thing again. The ‘it’s New Year’s Eve, so I must look perfect’ thing. Relax.”
“I’m not worried about perfection,” he says, eyes meeting mine. “I’m just thinking this might be the last New Year’s we get to spend together before everything changes.”
There’s something about the way he says it that pulls at my chest. He’s already looking forward to what’s ahead, what’s coming next.
But it’s scary too. Very scary.
I walk over to him and stand behind him in the mirror, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Well, if this is the last one, I’d say we’re doing it right. Bonfire, fireworks, and cider. What’s better than that?”
He grins at me. “I’m glad you’re with us tonight, Sloane.”
And that right there? It’s the kind of thing that makes all the mess of the past year worth it. Because when I look back at this, this quiet little town, these people who’ve become my family, it’s not about the chaos anymore. It’s about finding my place in it.
“I’m glad too,” I murmur, just as Ezra walks in, looking like he’s about to lecture us for being late.
“We good to go, or are we all still playing dress up?” he asks with a dry smile.
Creed appears next, no surprise, looking effortlessly cool in a bulky sweater that makes him look like he could survive the apocalypse and still look smug about it. “We’d better get moving. The countdown’s not gonna wait for us.”
We head out into the cold night, and soon I can feel the hum of the town’s energy. It’s not the usual big city buzz. It’s quieter, more familiar, and yet there’s a buzz about it all. A sense of excitement, of anticipation.
The town’s square is lit up with strings of lights and lanterns, the bonfire crackles and pops, sending flickers of light against the dark backdrop of the mountains. People are gathered in clusters, laughing, talking, clinking cider glasses, and making jokes about resolutions they won’t keep.
We join the crowd near the bonfire, the warmth from the flames welcome in the crisp night. The sky is clear, the stars above so bright they could be part of the celebration too. I’m already starting to feel a little tipsy from the cider, the warmth spreading through me in all the right ways.
It’s so different from the chaotic, crowded New Year’s celebrations I used to dread. No flashing lights or noisy clubs, just people I care about, in a place that feels like home.
As we settle in by the fire, Olivia walks up with her men not far behind her, her face glowing with excitement. She’s practically radiating joy, surrounded by people who clearly adore her.
I can’t help but smile. There’s something about the way she’s owning this night.
I’ve always liked Olivia, but tonight, I can see we’ve both come a long way. Back when I was covering her old boss, she was just a woman with big dreams of a coffee truck, and I was just trying to make a name for myself as a journalist.
Now, here we are. She’s about to be a mom, and I can’t help but think maybe I’ve found my own version of home here, too.
Who would have thought it?
“Hey, guys!” she greets us cheerfully. “So glad you made it! You’d better not be planning on leaving early. I just heard that this is the best New Year’s Coyote Glen’s had in ages.”
I grin and pull Creed closer, leaning my shoulder against his in that affectionate way we’ve fallen into. “We’re not going anywhere. You know how I feel about fireworks. Besides, I’ve been looking forward to this all week.”
“Hey, guys!” I hear Ivy before I see her. “I just listened to the new album, and it is amazing.”
I turn to see Ivy approaching with a drink in hand, her face lit up like she’s just seen a puppy in a snowstorm.
“Seriously,” she continues, “you guys just keep getting better. Every track, it’s like you’re raising the bar higher. I can’t stop listening to it.”
Roman’s eyes brighten at her praise, and he flashes that cocky grin of his. “Thanks, Ivy. We’ve been working hard on it. I’m glad you’re into it.”
Ivy laughs, glancing over at Creed, who’s busy pretending not to care about the attention but is clearly pleased. “Into it? You have no idea. My guys have been blasting it in the tattoo shop all week. The whole town’s talking about it. They’re practically obsessed.”
“That’s good.” I can almost feel the excitement buzzing off Creed in waves. “I just hope the fans take it all as well. I’m still hoping things go well with the new manager.”
“Oh, they will!” Ivy insists. “Trust me. You guys… you’re about to have it all.”