Epilogue
“Oh, fuck.” Ellie giggles. “That didn’t hurt as bad as I thought it might.”
“See, May, I told you to trust me.”
She smiles at me—I love when she does that. She looks at me like I’m worthy, and when I’m with her, I believe it. Believe I’m more than just the lead singer of my band, and even though I fuck up—because I still do—she loves me anyway.
“All done,” the tattoo artist says, wiping down her skin.
She already had a small one on her shoulder—a tiny wave she’d gotten when she was eighteen and drunk.
She’s been wanting another, but was afraid of bleeding and passing out on the table.
I assured her that wasn’t going to happen, but if by some shot it did, I’d be here.
Ready to nurse her back to health like she’s done for me so many times.
“I love it!” Ellie squeaks, staring at the fresh ink on her wrist.
I hold mine up, too, right next to hers until they line up perfectly—just like we do. Like puzzle pieces. Both my arms are covered in ink, but I had just enough free skin for this. Almost like it was just waiting for her to fill it.
“My last piece,” I muse, meeting her emerald green eyes. They shine with love and something else. My grin spreads.
“Can we go now?” she asks, impatience dripping from her tone.
I chuckle, grabbing her hip and pulling her close. I brush her hair behind her ear so I can whisper in it. “Does branding your body in ink for me make your pussy wet? Because I was hard as a rock watching you.” I grind into her so she can feel the bulge I’ve been trying to hide.
She whimpers quietly. “Uh-huh.” Her hand sneaks between us, rubbing me over my jeans, and my eyes roll back. “All I could think about was sitting on your cock. Please take me home.”
She doesn’t need to tell me twice. “Thanks, man,” I say to Trey as I drag Ellie out.
I pay at warp speed and lead her to my car.
We don’t make it two miles down the road before she’s taking my cock out.
I have to pull over. I can’t see straight when she touches me.
She loves riding me in this car. I’m too damn big for this, but knowing she can’t wait a second longer to have me inside her makes it worth it.
And she does, she rides me to heaven, and when my legs stop shaking, I drive us home.
She hasn’t moved in yet, but she’s always here. I have everything I need now. That’s what this tattoo was supposed to represent. She was the piece I was missing—the most important piece. It’s cheesy as fuck, but I’m whole now.
I got the girl, my best friends and bandmates, music, and the cat.
The resentment and fucking self-despair from all those months ago on tour is nothing but a distant memory.
My smile is easy as we settle on the couch, Cinnamon in my lap, Ellie tucked under my arm.
“Don’t forget, we leave in two days,” she reminds me again.
She’s been reminding me every day for the last week.
As if I could forget the trip she sprung on me.
I don’t want to go, but it’ll be ok because she’s going, too.
She booked us a flight to Florida to visit my parents.
I know she isn’t a fan of them herself, but she said we’re extending the branch. Whatever that means.
They’ve stayed in touch slightly more since the tour ended.
We hashed a few things out over the breakfast I took them to after the final show, where they admitted they just don’t understand how to relate to me.
They said they thought I hated them. They assured me they love me and would make more of an effort.
They’ve even asked what’s next for the band.
I doubt they’ve been listening to our music or watching our videos, but at least they’re trying.
And it’s all because of the girl next to me.
I grab her chin and force her to face me. “I love you, know that?”
She holds up her wrist, showing off the puzzle piece tattoo. “I hope so because there’s no way I’m having this lasered off. That shit will hurt.”
I kiss her, feeling her smile against my lips.
“Not a chance.”
This shit is permanent.
Me and her? Inevitable.
I worried before because we’re so damn similar it’s scary. I always thought it should be like Penn and Olivia—opposites attract. But Ellie and I were made to fit together.
Meant to find each other in every universe.
And just like some birds and beavers that mate for life, we, too, are stuck together forever.
My neck doesn’t break out in a sweat. There’s no alarm signaling me to run.
She’s fucking mine, and I’ve never felt more free.