Epilogue
MELANIE
Nick stood beside Colt, and damn, he looked so good it almost hurt. I wanted him—right here, right now. I wanted him to drag me into the nearest bathroom, pin me against the cold tile, and take me raw before we had to stand up in front of everyone and give our speeches.
But instead, I had to behave.
Chloe walked ahead, tiny feet stepping lightly on a path of red rose petals, Faye trailing behind her. The kid was definitely a Killian. Chloe had started walking at nine months and had it mastered by ten. That seemed ridiculously early, but what did I know about babies?
Abigail didn’t have many friends, so it was just her sister and me standing up here, along with Colt, Nick, and Josh.
As I glanced out over the hundreds of guests, I let my gaze settle on the stunning fall colors surrounding us—deep reds, burnt oranges, lush greens, and crisp white flower centerpieces. It was breathtaking.
And yet, standing there, waiting for the bride to walk down the aisle, a small part of me ached.
Regret curled around my ribs, whispering about the wedding I never had—the grand, extravagant affair I once dreamed of.
But at least Nick and I had our honeymoon next month.
Italy. That would make up for it. That would help me forget.
Or try to.
Because reality was a weight I couldn’t shake.
My stepfather had been arrested at the Ritz in New York a month ago, and the trial was coming fast. Whenever I thought about it, my emotions twisted into something raw and jagged.
I’d obsessed over the news, leaving the national station on 24/7, unable to tear myself away from every update, every headline.
Until finally, I’d forced myself to stop.
To breathe. To trust in something bigger than myself, like our pastor had taught me.
Sophia kept me updated on the major developments. Last I heard, Richard had offered the judge fifty million for bail. The judge refused.
Good.
The smile that crossed my lips was sharp and unforgiving. Now it was his turn to know what it felt like to survive in hell.
The music shifted, a soft swell of strings signaling the moment everyone had been waiting for. A hush fell over the crowd, followed by the quiet rustle of fabric and shuffling feet as the guests rose in unison.
I glanced at Colt. His hands were clasped in front of him, his shoulders squared, but I could see the tension in his jaw, the way his chest rose just a little too fast. He was ready. So damn ready. But nerves flickered in his eyes, warring with the overwhelming love I knew he carried for Abigail.
Then, his breath hitched. A single tear slipped down his cheek, and a small, almost disbelieving smile followed.
She was here.
I turned, and the sight of Abigail nearly stole my breath, too.
She looked ethereal, like she had stepped out of a dream—no, a fairytale.
The delicate lace of her long-sleeved gown clung to her frame, intricate patterns swirling over ivory fabric, making her look every bit the princess she was.
All five-foot-three of her radiated grace, beauty, and something even deeper—happiness, pure and unshakable.
Our eyes met, and my chest swelled.
My friend deserved this. Every single second of it. The love, the joy, the future stretching out before her.
Even though Nick was standing a few feet away, I felt Nick’s presence beside me, warm and steady; I realized something else. For the first time, I truly believed I deserved it, too.
After the ceremony—stunning, tear-soaked, and full of promise—we followed the couple into the reception, hearts still thrumming.
The air buzzed with laughter and clinking glasses, music pulsed through the floor, and the scent of rich, warm food wrapped around us like a second invitation to celebrate.
“Want to dance?” Bodie asked Faye, his voice carrying a mix of nerves and excitement.
It was the most endearing thing I’d ever seen.
Faye’s face lit up as she nodded, letting Bodie take her hand and lead her toward the dance floor.
The opening beats of Love Shack pulsed through the speakers—no surprise there. Abigail adored ’80s music.
Nick leaned in close, his breath warm against my cheek. “You want a drink?” His voice was casual, but I caught the concern beneath it.
I shook my head. “You can, though.”
The truth was, I wanted one. I wanted one so badly it made my fingers twitch against the hem of my dress.
But I knew myself too well. One wouldn’t be enough.
One would turn into two, then three, and before I knew it, I’d be slurring through my speech and ruining Abigail’s wedding.
Being an alcoholic wasn’t just hard—it was a battle I fought every single day, especially at events like this, where champagne flowed like water.
Nick studied me for a beat, then flashed that wicked, knowing grin. “Wanna sneak off for five minutes?” He held a cigarette in between his lips, never lighting it. He did that from time to time. He said the act of pretending to smoke helped keep his temptations at bay.
Nick studied me for a moment, then leaned in closer, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “A quick five minutes?”
I turned toward him, my lips curving into a small, knowing smile. “You mean a quick five minutes, or a quick five minutes?” I arched a brow. “Because you’re never quick.”
A slow, wicked smirk spread across his face. “Right now? Seeing you in that red satin dress?” His voice dipped lower, sending a shiver down my spine. “I’ll be whatever you want me to be, baby.”
His fingers grazed my wrist, tracing the delicate line of my pulse. “You’re a fucking masterpiece. But the best thing you wear?” His eyes flicked down to my hand, lingering on the wedding band. “That ring. Letting every guy in this room know you’re my masterpiece.”
Heat bloomed beneath my skin. I should’ve been used to the way he looked at me by now, but God, I wasn’t. Not even close.
I exhaled slowly. “I can barely breathe in this dress. It’s been a while since I dressed to impress, and I can’t even bend over.”
Nick’s eyes darkened with something wicked. “Oh no,” he murmured, tilting his head. “Guess I’ll just have to lift you up, spread your legs, and fuck you on the bathroom counter.”
My breath hitched.
Nick made a show of looking around the room for an exit. At first, it was just teasing, but the more he looked, the more serious he became.
“C’mon.” He held out his hand, eyes gleaming with heat and promise. “Let’s find someplace private.”
And just like that, my pulse was racing for an entirely different reason. He holds out his hand and I don’t hesitate. As soon as we’re behind a locked bathroom door Nick pounces on me, hiking up my dress as gently as he can before hoisting my ass on the cold bathroom counter.
“I love when you’re such a softie.” He says.
“I’m not a softie.”
“His smirk deepened. “I saw you getting teary when Abigail and Colt said their vows”
Your eyes go all glossy, like the brightest damn sapphires. It’s beautiful. Vulnerable. Such a contrast to how tough you always pretend to be.”
“I am tough.” I lull my head to the side so I can get a better look when Nick pulls out his massive cock fisting it at the base as he drags it through my folds and over my clit, and my breath hitches.
“So fucking wet,” he groans. “So tough.” He pulls me into him, pressing his lips against my collarbone as he sinks inside me.
“Hmmm. You would wear sunglasses every time you would read, and at first I thought you did it to keep the sun out of your eyes, but it was to keep me from seeing you cry.”
“Hmm,” I moan, “I hated wearing those damn sunglasses. It was torture.” I started yanking at his tie and fumbling at his buttons, eager to chase my orgasm to feel him inside me. “I want this off.”
“Uh huh.” He tsks, covering my hand with his.
“Quick,” He reminds me. “Five minutes, and don’t you dare pout, princess. You know I’ll take care of you later.”
I loved hearing those words as he thrust harder into me, filling me up.
“I’m trying so hard not to mess up your hair” he says in between thrusts, panting.
“But all I want to do is stick my hands through your hair and.” Thrust. “Mmm.” Thrust. “Fuck you.” Thrust. “I want to fuck you so hard and long you can’t remember what it feels like to not have me inside of you.
” Thrust. “I want to lay you down on our bed, rip this fucking dress off you and worship every inch of this bangin body.” Thrust. “Until you know what it’s like to have every piece of you loved beyond measure. ”
“Fuck, Nick” I say through a whimpered cry. Falling forward griping his shirt in my fists as he starts to rub my clit, and holy hell it feels so fucking good.
“I already know,” I rasp out. “I already—know what that’s like.”
“Ya?” he rests his forehead on mine, peering into my eyes. And he watches as I come undone. My body trembles in his strong hold as he thrust once before he spills his warm release inside me.
“Ya.” I breathe out. Touching my lips to his.”If your love was all I had to live then it would be more than enough for me to survive in this world.”
Nick’s slow, dimpled grin made my chest ache in the best way.
Once we were presentable, we slipped back into the reception. And immediately ran into Sophia.
She wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Yuck. You two totally just banged in the bathroom.”
I scoffed, straightening my dress. “We did not.”
“Sure as shit did,” Nick said at the same time.
Sophia gagged. “Ugh. It’s time for your speeches, sickos.”
Nick smirked, lacing his fingers through mine as we made our way back to the table.
“Five minutes,” he whispered.
I laughed softly. “Not even close.”
Nick