Chapter 64
EVANGELINE
“You look sensational,” Alaric praises as I step through the back door.
The frayed denim miniskirt is animal print, of course. I paired it with a white T-shirt, then slipped into a pair of cowgirl boots. I finished off the look with two Granata-red bandannas woven through my belt loops, adding a pop of color. What can I say? I love a good theme.
It’s Tuesday of race week, and tonight, I’m hosting the Even Better Eleven here for a proper Texas barbecue.
The last several days have been nothing short of bliss. Alaric and I have spent every free moment together, mostly here at the house, but also visiting some of our favorite places around Austin. It turns out, we both love the same little frozen custard stand out in Barton Hills.
Before we went public with our relationship, I officially resigned from Granata. It was the easiest decision I’ve ever made. Putting all my energy into A-Tizket A-Tasket and getting creative in my new studio space has been a literal dream come true.
There hasn’t been any fallout or media attention surrounding our relationship.
Luca’s diligence in keeping me off his social media and out of the spotlight when we were dating has paid off big time.
It helps that his son, Lorenzo Alaric Steele, was born last week.
The media has been having a field day with all the posts and pictures he’s shared.
Twice I’ve stopped over to see Alaric at the paddock, making sure to check in on Silas and Marisol as well as Mick and the culinary crew.
It was an ironic, full circle moment to swipe into the paddock with an all-access guest pass. But I’m so incredibly happy, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.
“Everything’s just about ready.” I wrap my arms around him from behind.
He cranes back for a kiss, and when my lips meet his, he tries to deepen it.
Laughing, I pull back. “Focus on your world-famous ribs, Mr. Steele. Guests will be here any minute.”
He scowls, his eyes hidden behind his aviators, but then nods toward the driveaway. “It looks like they’re already here.”
A parade of sports cars rolls down the driveway. The sight of so many sleek, high-performance vehicles crawling at such a slow pace is comical.
Saint’s Koenigsegg Jesko, which he imported via airfreight, is first to roll in.
Lincoln’s Bugatti EB110 is next. Stefan pulls up in a vintage Chevy C/K pickup truck, clearly a rental.
The next car is a vintage Lamborghini Miura.
Mia climbs out of the passenger seat a second before Prince steps out.
Wow. Okay. I did not expect them to come together.
Ren, Kenji, and Shelby arrive together in Shelbs’s Porsche Cayenne Turbo. Flynn and Bea are last to arrive in an Aspark Owl.
Alaric clocks the super rare electric car right away and leans in close, his words quiet but giddy. “I’ve never seen an Owl in person.”
“Go check it out. I’ve got this.” I take the tongs out of his hands and click them together, affection and amusement overwhelming me as he makes his way over to welcome our guests and admire Flynn’s car.
Saint and Lincoln pass him, headed my way, each greeting me with a one-armed hug.
Lincoln puffs out his cheeks and rocks back on his heels, surveying our surroundings.
“It’s weird, right? Being at Luca’s dad’s house?” he asks. “I mean, I’ve seen the guy around before. I remember him from the old days. And he’s definitely doing incredible things with Granata this season—”
“Lincoln.”
He snaps his mouth shut, his cheeks pinking.
“I invited you for a barbecue at my studio,” I tell him. “Yes, this is also my partner’s house, but if you keep thinking of him as Luca’s dad, it’s going to be awkward for all of us.”
He nods aggressively, like he’s still trying to convince himself.
“Drinks are in the cooler,” I tell him, pointing the tongs at the beverage station.
Saint snickers as Lincoln walks away, then whistles low. “Looks like you upgraded,” he tells me, glancing over to where Alaric is chatting with Flynn and Shelby.
I elbow him in the side but wince when I come into contact with his rock-solid abs.
He’s not wrong, though. The man in the driveway chatting with my friends has supported me in ways I never knew I needed. Without a doubt, life is better with Alaric by my side. I definitely upgraded.
We set up a long table in my studio so we could all sit together, and Alaric insisted on making everything from scratch, treating us to ribs, pulled chicken, baked beans, mac and cheese, and cornbread.
When we’re finished, he and I clear plates into a big tub to take into the house.
“So what’s the arrangement here, Ev?” Kenji asks loud enough for the whole group to hear. “Do you pay rent for this space?”
Ren elbows him in the side, but I just roll my eyes.
Alaric wraps one arm around my shoulders. “I’m more of a silent partner,” he says, seemingly unbothered by the question.
Saint snickers, which earns him an elbow to the ribs from Bea.
At this rate, everyone’s going to leave here with bruised torsos.
“Do you know much about A-Tizket A-Tasket?” Alaric asks coolly.
Before any of my friends can respond, he launches into what could seriously be a pitch to investors.
“Evangeline brings in five figures a month through subscriptions alone,” he says. “She serves customers in fourteen countries, and her live streams average sixty-five thousand views. You should see her in action. She’s brilliant.”
The table falls silent.
I can’t help but wag my eyebrows at Saint.
Take that, Lavoy.
Mia reaches over and squeezes my hand. “Evan is brilliant. And now she’s finally with someone who sees and appreciates her completely.”
Alaric claps once and directs the group to pass down any remaining dishes, quickly shifting back into cleanup mode.
Grateful for the distraction, I jump back in as well.
It takes three trips, but once we get all the dishes and leftovers into the house, Alaric captures me against the door with a hot, needy kiss.
Our tongues dance, a surge of desire inspiring an ache between my thighs. He’s making a mess of my hair, I’m sure. But I kiss him back just as fiercely. The way he rattled off my business stats did something to my brain. And to my clit.
When we eventually break apart, breathless, he asks, “What does it say about me that I’m jealous of every single one of your friends?”
Laughing, I smack his chest. “It says you’re delusional. You know I only want you.”
He plants his forearm against the wall beside my head, then nudges his nose with mine.
“I’m actually most jealous of how long they’ve had the privilege of knowing you.
But we’ll get there. This is forever for me, angel,” he says, as if he hasn’t spoken a similar sentiment every day since we reunited. “I want you now. I want you forever.”
I brush my hands up his chest and cup his face. “Forever sounds perfect to me.”
Angling in, I kiss him again.
He pulls away first. “I’ll take care of cleanup. Go enjoy the party.”
We’ve set up an outdoor projector so the film will appear on the closed garage door, but it’s not quite dark enough to get it started.
I make my way outside to find my friends pulling chairs and beanbags out of my studio and onto the driveway.
“Hey, Ev,” Ren calls out. “I’m assuming the couch is off limits?”
“Correct,” I holler back. “Leave my damn couch alone.”
I look around for Mia. She’s the only one who knows the full extent of what my grandma’s poor vintage couch has been through. But I don’t find her. And now that I’m searching, I don’t see Prince either. Curious.
Once the seats are set up and everything’s ready to go, we gather in the garden, drinking and goofing around as we wait for darkness.
As the movie begins, Mia and Prince reappear, her makeup smeared under her eyes and Prince’s hair disheveled.
I give my best friend a knowing look, and she bites back a grin as she makes a beeline for me where I’m lounging on an oversized beanbag.
We’re watching The Breakfast Club, the subtitles blurry not only because the movie is older than any of us but because of the way it’s projected onto the garage door.
I lean back in my chair, my best friend by my side, and soak it all in.
How lucky am I to have found people who not only accept me, but love me as I am? A single, grateful tear rolls down my cheek as the opening credits fade and the movie begins.
The house is dark and quiet when I finally come inside and set the alarms for the night.
Alaric is lounging in bed, shirtless, wearing his reading glasses and holding a massive cookbook.
“How was it?” he asks, setting the tome down beside him.
“It was perfect.” I sigh. “Thank you for insisting on hosting.”
“Cohosting,” he corrects.
He’s been doing that a lot over the last few days: emphasizing our partnership and ensuring things are equitable and fair. I love how thoughtful he is. How much he respects my work. How he never puts more importance on his job or prioritizes his wants or needs above mine.
“I’m sorry if anyone made you feel awkward.” I drape my body over his, assuming one of our favorite positions. Despite all the ways this man shows me that we are equals, sometimes a girl just wants to be held.
He wraps his arms around my low back, arranging me so we’re both comfortable.
“This is new, angel. I don’t expect complete understanding or tolerance right out of the gate. And I have no problem holding my own. But anyone who continues to call me ‘Luca’s dad’ instead of recognizing me as your partner has no grasp on the level of commitment we’re working with here.”
I huff a laugh and bury my face in his neck.
“I meant what I said earlier,” he murmurs, stroking one hand through my hair. “You’re my forever.”
Forever. It has a nice ring to it.
“I love you,” I murmur into his chest. “Now and forever.”