Epilogue Regan
Several Months Later
He wakes me up with a kiss.
“Oh god, get off!” I push him away, groaning and bleary as I look at the time. “Liam, what the hell? It’s barely past six in the morning.”
“I got impatient.” He chuckles, more amused than insulted by my reaction. “Should I give you some more time?”
“Yes!”
“Right.” He tugs me against him and kisses my neck. “I’ll do that.”
“Liam.” I groan and relax back into him.
“You know what today is?”
“I’m pretty sure it’s Thursday.”
He clicks his tongue and nips my shoulder. “Today is the anniversary of the day we first met.”
“Are you—“ I stop when he pinches my ass. I wriggle back into him. “Okay, okay, I know! I’m teasing.”
“Better be.” He lapses into quiet and holds me. I never expected Liam to be the kind of man who cares about dates like this, but he’s oddly sentimental. Milestones are important to him, he told me once, as a way to mark what we’ve done and what we still have left to do.
From my perspective, there’s a lot waiting out there, but the world’s cold and not here in bed, so I’ll go ahead and ignore it all for a while.
Liam slips into the kitchen. The smell of wafting coffee drags me from the sheets. I find him drinking and looking out the window. I join him, leaning against his shoulder.
“What are you thinking?”
“That my wife is very lazy.”
“It’s not even eight yet!”
“Like I said.”
I playfully swat his butt and go get some coffee. When I’m caffeinated, he makes me get dressed and says we’re heading out for breakfast. Which is fine, since I haven’t seen Hal in a couple weeks and I’d like to see how she’s doing.
But instead of going out, he angles toward the building’s garage.
“I thought we were going to walk?” He stomps toward the back of the structure. “Liam, what are you doing?”
“It’s right up here.”
“What is? Your car? We already walked past it. You’re parked…”
I trail off when he stops at the last spot near the back wall. There are no cars beside it, so I get a good view, and my jaw drops open.
It’s a black sedan. The exact make and model electric vehicle I’ve been bugging him about.
He kept saying we’ll get it eventually, we’ll get a good deal, but there hasn’t been any movement, and I’ve been getting impatient.
I started a new CPA job with a big Whelan-affiliated firm two months back, and while public transit’s fine, it’d be nice to have some more freedom.
Working for a company that isn’t run by my asshole father has been wonderful.
“Liam. Is this a joke?”
“I don’t know what you mean.” He says it so innocently my blood boils.
The car is perfect. It’s beautiful.
Except for the flames stenciled in shocking detail on the side.
I walk around it and groan.
Both sides.
“Liam!”
“What?! You don’t love your anniversary present?”
“I do! It’s exactly what I wanted, but there are flames!”
He drapes an arm around my shoulder and tugs me tight against him. “Exactly, like the first night we met, remember?”
I close my eyes and rub my forehead. I’m already anticipating a lifetime of moments like this: frustrating, intimate, funny, only slightly mean, but perfect.
“Yes, I remember.”
“We burned the BMW?”
“I said I remember.”
“And those are flames on a car—“
“I got it, Liam!”
He roars with laughter. I can’t help but grin along at his stupid joke. His pleasure is infectious and soon I’m smiling as he gives me the keys and lets me take a quick tour of the interior.
“I can’t drive this thing to work like this, you know.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll get it painted again.”
“I mean, the flames are kind of cool though.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “You like them?”
“I hate them, but also, I mean… they are kind of cool.”
He howls again, holding his stomach. “You’re going to keep them, aren’t you?”
“No! I mean, I really shouldn’t. But then again, I kind of like what they symbolize.”
“What’s that?”
“Finding my freedom.” I lean across the console and kiss him. I kiss him hard for all the good he’s done for me, all the ways he’s drawn me from myself and shown me perfection is only an illusion and life’s better when you let yourself be joyous and messy and good.
“Alright love. Enough of that. I’m starving.”
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My hot neighbor’s apartment is totally trashed.
I shouldn’t snoop, but his door is wide open.
Now I’m standing in his living room with a pile of cash in one hand and his underwear in the other.
And he’s pointing a gun at my head…