EPILOGUE
Grayson
“Are you going to get in?” I asked Jovana as I swam up to where she sat on the edge of our rooftop pool, her legs dangling in the water. Every time she lifted her foot out, a set of droplets fell from her toes, making circular ribbons across the pool’s surface.
“Maybe.”
I placed my hands on her thighs and threatened to pull her in. “Maybe, huh?”
She laughed, ending the giggle with her teeth on her lip, dragging them across the bottom, my favorite of the two. “I don’t know if I want to get wet.”
Our new penthouse in the Seaport had just been completed last week, and it came with our own private pool. One of the many benefits of being this high up with dark glass surrounding each side of the massive balcony was that clothes weren’t required.
Which was why I didn’t have any on and why I intended to get Jovana naked in the next few seconds.
“If I reached between your legs, I guarantee you’d be wet, baby.”
The warmth from the sunset glowed across her face, enhancing her smile. “That’s a different kind of wet.”
“How about we experience both kinds tonight?” I pushed myself out of the water, taking her lips.
“Mmm.”She moaned. “You’re relentless.”
“Only when it comes to you.”
She ran her fingers through my soaked hair. “How about I go grab us some drinks and check on our food, and if I see that dinner has another twenty or so minutes in the oven, then I’ll negotiate with you ...” She gave me her profile and the biggest grin. “You can get me wet if that means the hot tub instead of the pool.”
“Deal.”
She laughed. “I thought so. Be right back.”
I watched her walk through the sliding glass doors of our condo, a place we had designed together. We’d agreed on every detail, ones as small as the fixtures in the bathrooms and as big as the interior layout and the furniture and decor our designer had chosen.
The first condo we’d lived in had been mine.
This place was ours.
A week in and we were already in love with it.
I swam to the side where I’d stored my phone and checked the screen for the notifications I’d missed. I’d learned months ago to turn off my social media, especially since Jovana was including me in so many of her posts, like the goddamn TikTok she’d had me film with her last week. The only time I was alerted was when she posted a new picture on Instagram or a video on TikTok.
I couldn’t compete with her following. They saw her shit long before I did, but I still wanted to check out her posts as fast as I could.
To show my girl support.
She was fucking killing it online, creating a career that was everything she’d ever dreamed of. By her next birthday, she’d be a millionaire. Not many people as young as her could say that.
What was on the screen of my phone wasn’t anything from social media or one of Jovana’s posts.
It was a text from Laura.
Laura: Call me when you can.
The last time we’d spoken was the night before our wedding. She hadn’t been a guest. The three of us had decided it would be best if she wasn’t seen as an attendee. But she had called to talk about the details of the event and how she planned to give the photos to the media.
I couldn’t imagine what she wanted to discuss now.
I held the phone to my ear and waited for her to answer.
“Grayson,” she said after the second ring. “How are things?”
“They couldn’t be better.”
Damn it, that was true.
Hooked was fucking exploding. Our advertising agency was still using our ads across every channel and medium, now showing our wedding pictures, and all three arms were on fire. We were up 30 percent from our objective, and Drake was about to launch a new version of the app, estimating that with an enhanced interface that was more user-friendly, our sales were only going to rise.
“Excellent, excellent,” she said. “I’m reaching out because I was just looking over my calendar and I realized that today is an extremely important date.”
“Yeah?” I walked the phone back to where Jovana had been sitting, giving me a better view of our living room. “Why is that?”
“It marks twelve months to the day from when you and Jovana signed the contract. According to the terms, the both of you have technically fulfilled all your requirements. Which means you’re no longer obligated to stay married to her or pay her insurance or bills. Grayson, you’re financially free of Jovana Winters—if you choose to be.”
I didn’t like the sound of that at all.
In fact, the words made my free hand clasp into a ball.
“Laura, watch it. You’re talking about my fucking wife.”
“You’re saying you choose her, then?”
I could hear her smiling through the phone.
“Yes.”
“I’ve waited for what feels like forever to hear you say that.” She paused. “Sending my love to the both of you. Always.”
I hung up, not offering a goodbye, and watched Jovana come through the slider with a vodka and a glass of wine.
“What’s wrong?” She handed me my drink. “What’s the face for?”
“That was Laura on the phone.”
She took a sip of her drink. “And?”
I walked up the short flight of steps, onto the pool deck, and moved over to the hot tub, getting right in. I set my drink on the side, waiting for her to take a seat on the edge and place her wine down before I pulled her into the hot water.
She squealed. “I knew you were going to do that.”
“I need you in my arms. Now.”
As her legs circled around me, I kissed her, owning her mouth, sucking the end of her tongue.
It wasn’t enough.
Fuck, it would never be enough.
But I separated our faces and stared into her eyes.
“Are you going to tell me what Laura wanted?”
I handed her the wine, clinking my glass against hers. “To twelve months.”
“Twelve ...” Her voice faded, but the realization suddenly came over her, her eyes widening in response. “I completely forgot.”
“So did I, but Laura reminded me.”
She placed the wine on the pool deck and tightened her grip around me. “What else did she say?”
“You know, the required bullshit. That we’ve fulfilled our obligations. That if either of us want to call it, we can, contractually.”
I didn’t want to say anything about the financial responsibilities.
That would imply that Jovana wasn’t supporting herself, and that wasn’t the case at all. Even though our new condo was out of her price range, Jovana insisted on paying all our utilities, and she could most definitely afford a nice place in the city, with a lifestyle as lavish as she wanted.
“Interesting.” She shifted. “And how did you respond to that?”
I hovered my lips over hers, inhaling the vanilla first and then the lavender. “I told her I choose my wife.”
“God”—she shook her head—“that title never gets old.”
My hands lowered to her ass, and I lifted her a little higher. “She sends her best.”
“I mean this with all the love in my heart, and it’s nothing against Laura, but I really hope I never have to see her again.”
I chuckled, feeling the same way. “You won’t.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because you’re mine.” I kissed her collarbone. Her neck. Her lips. “Nothing will ever change that.”
She pressed her mouth against the side of my beard, leaving it there while she grumbled, “And what about my family? And Sloane? Are we ever going to tell them the truth?”
“Do you want to?”
She was quiet for a moment. “No.”
“Then they’ll never know about our contract or the obligations that brought us here.”
She moved her face in front of mine, smiling. “Can you imagine what they’d say?”
“You mean how much of an asshole they’d think I am. No, I can’t imagine. I’d like to bypass that whole conversation with them if possible.”
“You mean how much of an asshole you were, not are.” She kissed me. “You’ve come a long, long way ... Mr. Wicked.”