Epilogue
Maddie
One Year Later
A year on, and my life has somehow become both drastically more stable and dramatically more insane. Which, honestly, feels like a pretty impressive feat to achieve. I certainly give myself a pat on the back for it, because I never would have imagined my life as it is now a year ago.
The apartment smells like expensive perfume, hairspray, and… oh hell. Caiden is making toast again.
“I said I’ve got it, bro. Quit mothering me, damn it,” I hear Caid yell from the kitchen, right before I hear the telltale sound of skin slapping against skin. I just know Caid is swatting Ryan’s fussing hands away, and my lips twitch at the imagery.
“Jesus Christ,” Ryan yells. “You’re actively producing smoke, Caiden. For the love of God, please allow someone else the use of the toaster before you burn down the entire apartment.”
“It’s called flavor, Ryan. Look it up,” Caid sasses back, and I can’t help but grin to myself while I stand in front of the full-length mirror in my bedroom.
I’m trying very hard not to smudge my makeup and destroy the hair my makeup artist and hairstylist from Static were generous enough to do for me.
Not an easy task while trying to wriggle my body into a dress that is quite possibly the most killer dress that has ever graced my body.
It’s truly divine, something I would photograph and plaster all over my social media. Something I will absolutely do once I finally manage to get into the dress. I successfully complete the challenge not even five minutes later, and I check out my reflection with a pleased nod.
Liquid silver fabric pours over my body as though I’ve stolen the starlight straight from the sky, every inch of the material covered in glittering crystals that catch the apartment lighting every time I breathe.
The top part is all sexy curves and cutouts, the material sweeping over my chest and waist in shimmering panels that are only connected by silver rings that make the entire thing look both elegant and somewhat illegal.
There’s an open cut along my stomach and waist that flashes just enough skin that I hope it makes all four of my guys collectively lose their minds the moment they see me.
The skirt falls dramatically from my hips in sparkling rivers, flowing behind me with a train heavy enough that it requires the upper-body strength Caiden has trained into me over the last several months.
I wasn’t grateful for it then, but I am now.
Because looking in the mirror makes me blow an impressive whistle.
I look expensive, and I like it. I like it a lot.
It looks as though I should be descending a marble staircase in a fantasy book where the guys all have wings and horns and everything is whimsical and shit.
Oh, yeah. That’s the dream.
Smiling, I stare at my reflection a second longer.
I run my eyes over my hair, styled in soft waves that cascade around my shoulders.
I eye the small scar above my eyebrow that is barely visible beneath my makeup, loving the smoky hues around my eyes that make them stand out a whole lot more than usual.
The woman in the reflection is happy. Still a chaotic mess that should sometimes be sectioned or put down, but a happy disaster nonetheless.
And, weirdly, it’s no thanks to Toby. Even though he doesn’t really cross my mind all that much anymore, I have to give credit where it’s due.
If it weren’t for him sticking the dick that looked like it would apologize before sex into a different woman, I wouldn’t have met the four men currently waiting for me to finish getting ready.
I wouldn’t have spent the past year building a better life, learning to love myself for who I am, and finding happiness with four men I love with all my heart and who cherish me with a love I’ve only ever felt from them.
These days, I spend my life with laughter echoing through the apartment at all hours of the day.
It’s filled with Caiden constantly stealing my food and complaining about the grueling workouts he has to do the next day to burn the calories.
It’s Bax carrying me to bed when I fall asleep during movie nights.
It’s Ryan accompanying me to work almost every day, always ready before me with a cup of cookie dough-flavored latte and a sweet kiss.
It’s Rayne pressing sleepy kisses to my shoulder every night after scrambling both my brain and insides as though his mission was only ever to become the sex god I’ve somehow trained him to be.
And somewhere along the way, my apartment stopped being mine, and it quickly turned into ours.
Three months after our trip to Korea, one that I’ve memorialized with countless photos printed and hung all throughout our apartment, Bax called around for a contractor to build a set of stairs that connect our apartments.
It was quite the task, but one I supervised dutifully, wearing a hard hat I absolutely didn’t need but wore diligently every day as the stairs were installed.
Now it’s one giant, chaotic apartment full of shoes, camera equipment, protein powder, hoodies, half-finished coffee cups that drive Ryan up the wall, and enough love to make me feel sick if I think too hard about it.
That love is tested when Caid yells from downstairs, “Blue, are you dead? If not, get your pretty ass down here. We’re going to be late!”
I have no idea when he ventured from the upstairs kitchen to downstairs, but I roll my eyes at my reflection before yelling, “I’m coming! Keep your shorts on!”
“Be quick, Sunshine. I’m pretty sure Ryan and Caid are one disagreement away from slapping one another,” Bax yells.
Laughing quietly to myself, I nod once at my reflection before stepping out of my bedroom.
Since my pretty heels are somewhere downstairs, I can move freely, walking through the warm light from the setting sun that spills through my apartment.
It’s a soft, golden light that catches every crystal on my dress, sending sparkles across the walls and floor.
“Heh. I look like a disco ball,” I snicker, my voice almost drowned out by the music I hear being played downstairs. Something that has become a constant now, adding to the homey feeling that always fills the apartment no matter the mood or day.
My hand slides lightly along the railing as I slowly descend the stairs toward the living room the guys have turned into a rec room.
The second the guys look up, hearing my dress swishing over the sound of the music playing from the speakers under the oversized television on the wall, the entire room falls silent.
Pure silence.
I watch in awe as four fully grown men freeze, a slow grin forming on my mouth.
Caid’s mouth literally falls open, shock plastered over his handsome face.
Ryan whispers, “Jesus Christ.”
Bax stares at me as though I hung the moon with my own bare hands.
And Rayne? That man looks utterly ruined, his soft pale-blue eyes dragging slowly over every inch of me.
Just one look at them all and it feels like they’re falling in love with me all over again. My heart instantly fills with warmth, my chest aching with the joy that fills it, and I smile slightly as I cheekily quip, “Well, that was really good for my ego, I won’t lie.”
“You look,” Caid starts, before he shakes his head once, trying and failing to come up with more. He doesn’t even bother, instead opting to whistle slowly before biting into his fist and making me laugh.
“Respectfully,” Bax says, standing from the couch with a slow intent that makes goose bumps break out over my skin. “I’m going to need everyone else in the room to back up.”
Ryan huffs out a laugh, crossing his arms over his chest, and it’s then that I finally take in their outfits for the night. And goddamn, but they look like walking wet dreams, my fantasies come to life but even better.
Caiden is wearing a black dress shirt tight enough that it stretches over his muscles in a way that makes me worry for the integrity of the material, a gray tie hanging around his neck. He’s in black pinstripe slacks, and on his feet are a pair of black-and-white Converse that make my lips twitch.
Ryan is decked out in a three-piece suit, his white shirt decorated with a dark-gray waistcoat that holds a silver pocket square that suspiciously matches my dress.
His sleeves have been rolled to the crook of his elbow, his slacks match his waistcoat, and an adorable bow tie sits proudly at his neck.
Baxter is wearing a dressed-down version of a tuxedo, his gray dress shirt spread open down to the middle of his chest, revealing a whole lot of ink I want to lick again.
He’s wearing three chains around his neck, the black jacket tight around his frame while his slacks hug his delicious thighs in a way that should be considered criminal.
And then there’s Rayne, who is wearing a loose black satin dress shirt, the front tucked into a pair of black skinny jeans. There’s a necklace around his neck that includes my gemstone, his ears are lined with black studs, and his ink flashes along his arms where he’s also rolled his sleeves up.
“Damn, you guys are fine as fuck,” I blurt the moment my foot hits the last step, and I have to carefully swipe at my lip to make sure I’m not actively drooling over them. It wouldn’t be the first time, and it probably wouldn’t be the last, either.
The moment I’m planted firmly on the floor, I’m tugged into Baxter’s chest. I grin up at him as I murmur, “Hi.”
“Hey,” he says softly, staring down at me with eyes lit like a bonfire. “You trying to kill us before the premiere?”
“Not on purpose,” I answer with a flash of a grin.
It’s only then that Caiden finally recovers from his Maddie-induced brain fart, the idiot dramatically swooning onto the couch as he declares, “She walks down those stairs like an angel descending from the pearly gates of heaven.”