Epilogue
He was by her side, and in the fading light of day, that was enough.
I lean back in my seat, smiling at the very last line of my very first manuscript.
Six months and two drafts later, I have a piece of work I can confidently say I’m proud of. I owe this moment to countless tears and sleepless nights, to dirty matcha lattes guzzled at all hours of the day, and to the voice in my head that kept telling me I could do it.
A voice that sounds awfully similar to another one I know so well.
“I did it!” I call out, pushing my laptop shut. I finished the draft my editor will receive first thing in the morning. I’m not entirely sure what will happen next, but I know I have a support system that will hold me up no matter what.
Arms wrap around me from behind and I’m turned in my seat. Taylor smiles down at me, pride brimming so bright in his eyes that I have to blink my own.
Over his shoulder, I spy the pastel hues of stacked storefronts and a glittering, crystalline sea. With so much going on, we weren’t sure when we would be able to make it to the French Riviera. But the view behind us was well worth the wait.
“Your agent is going to cry actual tears of relief,” Taylor muses, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “She’s been hounding you for this edit for weeks.”
I tilt my head up, inviting him to place a kiss on my lips. He lingers, breathing me in. I run my fingers through his hair, sighing into him. After all this time, I’m still not used to this . How perfectly we fit.
“So,” Taylor starts, breaking away. “What now?”
“A handful of publishers are interested,” I say breezily. “The team thinks we might go to auction.”
Taylor’s choked laugh mirrors my exact disbelief. The past six months have been one miracle after another. Starting with Adoria introducing me to my now-agent. Getting signed and landing an editor was mind-boggling enough, but this ? Knowing there are publishers that believe in me, that believe in my work…it’s almost too incredible to comprehend.
“Anyone would be lucky to get your debut,” Taylor says, locking his fingers behind my neck. “Yours is the best Romantasy I’ve ever read.”
“It’s the only Romantasy you’ve ever read.” I tilt my face up, stealing another kiss. “How much do you want to bet my movie will come out before yours?”
Taylor rolls his eyes and I laugh at our favorite joke. He swears I’ll be optioned for film before he ever sells a screenplay. I’m pretty sure he’ll be up for an award before my book goes to print.
“About that…” He tries and fails to hide a grin. “Guess who I just got off the phone with.”
“If it’s who I think it is, I’m going to lose my mind.”
“Oliver Blake wants to meet me. Apparently, Victor sent him my screenplay and he’s a big fan.” He runs a hand down his face, the tips of his ears as bright as his cheeks. “He said—he actually said he’d be interested in working on something with me.”
I scream, throwing myself into Taylor’s arms. He lifts me up, spinning me around like he did outside my apartment months ago.
“Oliver Blake…” I shake my head, knowing he’s Taylor’s favorite director. “I don’t know…I think you’d be doing him a favor. I’m not sure he’s on your level.”
Taylor knows I’m joking, but his eyes still bug out. “Oliver just got nominated for a Critics’ Choice.”
“Well, you’re going to be nominated for an Oscar.”
He backs me against the edge of our bed. “Well, you’re going to make the bestsellers list.”
I scowl at him, and he glares back. We hold the ridiculous pose for a moment before our faces break into twin smiles. Sometimes I think there is nothing I enjoy more than fighting with Taylor. Well, until our inevitable make-up.
“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you,” he starts, and I recognize that look in his eyes. His gaze softens the way it does when he watches me write, or when I catch him admiring me first thing in the morning.
And I know what he’s about to say. He’s started this sentence at least a dozen times before, with varying degrees of success. The first time he tried, his palms were sweaty and there was a tremor in his voice. We were interrupted by a call from the Havens, and when he returned, the moment had passed.
Then there was our first overnight trip to Santa Barbara. He held me in his arms as we watched the sunset over the beach, and I thought he was going to say it…right before a foghorn went off. And off. Again and again, for five minutes straight. We both needed an Advil after that and an early lights-out.
Once, he nearly blurted it out during sex, and again while we were watching Her Duke’s Delight. I hold my breath each time, but he gets this look on his face like he’s waiting for something. He’s wearing that look now, so I cock my head.
“What is it?” I ask lightly, knowing there’s about a ninety percent chance I won’t hear the answer.
He licks his lips. Opens his mouth. “Ayla, I—”
The hotel fire alarm flashes red, blaring a high-pitched noise that has us covering our ears. We look around in apprehension, waiting for some kind of announcement telling us to evacuate the building. When minutes come and go without footsteps rushing down the hall, I let my shoulders drop with relief.
I press a kiss against Taylor’s cheek, already turning around. We’ll get it right next time, I tell myself. But a hand closes around my wrist.
Taylor pulls me back until my palms rest on his chest. “Okay, take two,” he says with a sheepish grin. “Or take two hundred. Honestly, I’ve lost count.”
My brows go up as he takes a deep breath, and then one more. I can see the words appearing on the tip of his tongue, and his cheeks grow a shade pinker. He’s almost there, so close…but I can’t wait another second.
“I love you!” I blurt out. Taylor’s eyes go wide and mine roll with relief. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve been holding that in.”
He laughs long and hard, pulling me close enough that I can feel his racing heartbeat. “I love you, too, Ayla. So stupidly much.”
And there it is. The words he’s been holding back for months; the ones I knew he felt long before he voiced them out loud. His smile is breathtaking, and I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the effect it has on me. He was surprised when I admitted that for the first time. But not as surprised as I was when he told me I wield the same power over him.
It’s my eyes, he said. Never has a pair sparkled the way mine do. He claims he can read my thoughts every time I look his way. I’ve told him a million stories without ever opening my mouth.
“Beat you to it,” I whisper.
Taylor leans down and rests his forehead against mine. “Yeah. You win this time. But I’m going to get you back, Montes. Mark my words.”
I breathe him in. “You must love competing with me, Hedlund.”
“Oh, I do.” He presses a kiss against my temple, and then beside my eye. “I intend to compete with you for the rest of our lives.”
I smile then. I couldn’t have said it better myself. In the story of us, Taylor and I are destined to go head-to-head every other chapter. That’s what keeps the pages turning. And one day, when the timing is right, it’s why we’ll be ready to claim our happy ever after.
“Take three,” Taylor whispers against my lips. “I want to say it first this time: I love you. ”
I could let it go. Really, I should. But I pull him into a kiss and when I break away, I can’t help myself.
“Yeah? Well, I loved you first.”
Taylor laughs, and I know what he’s about to say before the words leave his tongue. “I love you more.”