Epilogue
Olive
"Coming!” I call out, towel-wringing my hair as I head for the front door.
I’m already running late for the grand opening of the newly renovated basketball stadium in Grandewood Creek. And as the wife of the new head coach, I kind of have to be there.
Avery’s been at the gym with Ryder and Orlando for hours, and I’ve had nothing but time to get ready.
Instead? I ended up on the couch, guitar in my lap, notebook and pen by my side.
Ever since we got back from Portugal, there’s been this itch I couldn’t ignore.
So I reached out to Akira.
We got talking.
And the next thing I knew, I was sending her songs I’d written with her in mind.
I told her she could have full creative control. That I’d be happy staying behind the scenes as a ghostwriter.
But she insisted I get the credit I deserve.
Tonight’s the launch party for her album in New York.
I would’ve loved to be there to support her, but I wanted to be here, with Avery.
"Hi—who’re you?” I ask, breathless.
Apparently, the walk from our bathroom to the front door is longer than necessary.
I didn’t realize how unfit I was until just now.
Avery insisted on buying the biggest house in Grangewood Creek because, "you never know.” While I had no idea what the hell he meant, I somehow knew he was right.
"I’m here from Grangewood Garden,” the young man says with a smile, handing me a bouquet of tulips. "These are for you.”
I take the flowers, brows furrowed as I spot a note taped to the vase.
"Thank you,” I murmur, closing the door behind me.
Congratulations on the album launch.
Sorry you couldn’t be in NYC to celebrate its release.
I’m so incredibly proud of you.
I can’t wait to see you later, Mrs. Jones.
Love, Avery.
I press the note to my chest, my heartbeat picking up with every breath until my phone buzzes on the counter.
Shit. I need to leave.
I’m so late.
***
"Thank you, Grangewood Creek, for coming out tonight,” Avery says, his voice clear and confident just like I taught him.
"Public speaking’s not exactly my thing,” he continues, "but tonight’s a special occasion.
Last time I was on a stage like this, my now-wife was bidding on a date with me.
” He chuckles, and the crowd laughs along with him.
"Tonight, I’m proud to announce the re-opening of the Grangewood Creek basketball stadium. ”
He smiles, and the cheers that follow almost rival the roar of twenty thousand people cheering me on all those months ago.
He passes the mic to Orlando, who shares their plan to bring the Youth Basketball Association to Grangewood Creek—open to all ages.
They want to help any kid chase their dream.
Scholarships, housing, clothing, tutoring… even meals, thanks to Wingrove Estates.
That earns another round of applause.
I glance over my shoulder to see Cassandra beaming at her husband, who waves a hand in thanks.
"None of this would’ve been possible without all of you. Grangewood Creek welcomed me with open arms, and I'll forever be grateful. Sign-up sheets are at the back, along with information on everything we offer. Tryouts start next month. And please, help yourselves to food and drinks.”
He raises his glass, steps off the stage, and heads straight for me, the crowd’s applause still echoing in the background.
"Last time you were in front of a mic, you looked like you were going to throw up,” I tease, brushing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.
"And last time you wore that dress, I begged to rip it off you.”
He quirks a brow, then leans in and kisses me.
It’s soft, but just enough to make me want to drag him to his new office and let him bend me over his desk.
"I thought it was one of a kind?” he murmurs in my ear, voice low and sinful.
"This one’s a replica. Had it made just for tonight. You can rip it off, if you feel so inclined.”
His blue eyes darken, and I feel that familiar tingle run down my spine. One I haven’t felt in months.
But I don’t fear it anymore.
I know why my body reacts that way.
I know what triggers me.
And I know what calms me.
Avery does both, in the best way.
"Sorry to interrupt,” Lizzie says from behind me, nose scrunched like she just overheard everything and wants to bleach her eardrums.
"I wanted to introduce you to someone,” she says, her voice calm but playful.
I glance past her, but no one’s there.
Until a small throat clears below.
He can’t be older than five.
Shaggy blond hair nearly covers his eyes until he flicks it aside and reveals the darkest shade of green staring up at me.
I crouch down to his level.
"Hi,” I say with a smile.
"Hi. My name’s Finn Wilder but my friends call me Wild One. You,” he adds, pointing at me, "can call me anytime. Or you can call me handsome. I’ll leave it up to you.” He wiggles his brows. Avery clears his throat above me. "And Mr. Jones? You can call me your next star player.”
He holds out his hand. Avery shakes it.
This kid has way too much confidence for a five year old, and I love it.
"You planning to sign up for YBAGB?” Avery asks, the smile on his lips impossible to ignore.
"You bet your a—”
"Language, Finn,” Lizzie cuts in, gently squeezing his shoulders.
He sighs, rolls his eyes.
"Sorry,” he mutters, looking down.
"I look forward to coaching you, then, Wild One.” Avery grins.
"I met Finn earlier tonight,” my sister says. "He and his family are new in town. He’s joining my class next week, aren’t you, Finn?”
His blond head nods up and down.
"His Mom, Ava, was at Katie’s Diner this morning. I overheard her talking about having a young son who loves basketball, so I suggested she bring him here tonight. Turns out he’s a big fan of Avery’s.”
We all look down at him, but he’s too busy taking it all in. We see his mom wave him over. "See you guys later, I’m needed by my number one lady.” He runs into his mom’s arms.
Lizzie shrugs. "I guess we’ll see.” She slings her bag over her shoulder.
"Off so soon?” I ask.
"I’ve got a date. I’ll text you after.”
She kisses my cheek, hugs Avery in quick congrats, and disappears out the door.
"Think this one’s her future husband?” Avery asks, his hand settling on my lower back as he leads me away from the crowd.
"Absolutely not. But our twin telepathy tells me it’s only a matter of time.”
"You know that’s not a thing, right?”
"We’ll see about that.”
The End.