Epilogue
CHLOE
“Hey, Si.” I smile, dropping my bag on the table and sitting down beside Silas.
“Chlo.” He nods his head in his typical short greeting.
“First day of our last semester,” I say in a singsong voice. “You excited?”
“Stoked,” he deadpans and I give him a playful shove.
“What’d you get up to this weekend?” I pull my laptop from my bag, setting it up in front of me as the quiet tattooed guy beside me adjusts the hat on his head.
“Not much,” he says, flicking his pen around his thumb.
Not much could mean absolutely anything with this guy.
He could have spent the weekend out in California at a rave, or he could have slept for seventy-two hours and I’m pretty sure his response would be the same.
He’s not as loud as his friends are, but I find I like him all the same.
I’ve learned that there’s always a little something more to the quiet guys.
“Good evening. I’m Ms. Beaumont.”
I look up to find the woman I met in the hallway last month breezing into the lecture room.
The same woman who was by my side as I fought for the man I love.
Her blonde hair falls just past her shoulders and it’s tied half-up, half-down.
She looks just as beautiful as she did that day; same simple jeans and white T-shirt, only today, she's paired them with an oversized purple corduroy jacket, and now that she’s in her element, she seems a little more comfortable.
“I’m the visiting writer for this class.
You can call me Ms. Beaumont, if you wish.
” She sets her bag down on the table at the front of the room and wipes her stray hairs from her face.
“I think in a rulebook somewhere it would advise that, however, I’m a little more informal, and this a creative writing class, so I’m also fine if you just want to call me by my first name, which is Sum—” Her mouth parts, and I can see her heavy intake of breath from five rows up.
My neck heats when I think she’s staring up at me, but when a girl in the front row can’t help her curiosity, she peeks over her shoulder to the man sitting beside me.
“Sorry.” She clears her throats, placing a delicate hand at her chest, and looking anywhere but our direction. “Summer. You can call me Summer.”
I finally give in, sliding my eyes to Silas whose expression remains exactly the same stoic face he always wears. I watch him for what feels like forever, and just when I’ve decided that it was nothing and that little Ms. Summer Beaumont got distracted by Silas…his jaw ticks.
“How was the last first day of class?” Maverick asks, and I shake my head at the ridiculous way he worded that.
“It was…good.” I leave out the part where after the professor saw Silas thirty seconds into class, she didn’t look in our direction the entire rest of the hour.
“Why the hesitation?”
I look back at the building, and his gaze follows mine.
“No reason,” I say, turning back around and smiling up at him. He eyes me skeptically for a moment before giving in and draping his arm around my shoulder as we walk across campus. I veer toward the parking lot, but Maverick gently guides us the other way.
When my brows knit together he smiles. “The sun is setting.” He pulls me in closer and drops a kiss to my lips. “Let’s go watch it.”
The wind has my teeth chattering, but I wrap my arms around him anyway, soaking up his warmth as I follow him.
When he leads us up to the top of the astronomy tower, I’m immediately flooded with all the same emotions I had the first night he brought me here, and the first night I knew I loved him.
He turns on a little personal heater before wrapping a blanket around me, followed by his arms, and he stands behind me, looking out over the setting sun.
“I got you something.”
It’s been six months since he first had something for me, but my stomach still flips all the same.
He bends down, opening his backpack, and pulls out a small piece of fabric.
I turn fully around, leaning my back against the railing as he unfolds the black beanie with the Toronto Titans symbol embroidered on the front before placing it on my head.
“I know you’re not scared of the weather, but I got to keep you protected in Toronto next year.”
I smile up at him, at the man who has never shied away from showing me who he really is, and the man who has loved me even before I knew how to love myself.
He kisses my lips once, twice, and then a third time, before moving to my neck, and I drop my head back with a laugh as I wrap my arms around him.
“Hey, Mav?”
“Yeah, Chloe baby?”
I bury my face in the crook up his neck, whispering against his skin, “You know this is an astronomy tower, right?”
He freezes and pulls back with furrowed brows. I can see the wheels turning but not quite getting there. “When you send me my horoscopes…that’s astrology.”
“Do they both overlap?” he asks.
I shrug. “Same sky.”
He cups my cheeks, dropping a kiss to my lips, and I smile against him.
“Whatever stars you're under, that's where I belong.”