Epilogue
TAKING TURNS
Aubrey
A week later, I move in. I sublease my little apartment to another stylist who wants to stay close to the salon.
It’s like it was meant to be. I move my books and candles and lotions and potions and more hair products than anyone else in the city owns—count ’em—and a few pieces of furniture and all my clothes.
Doesn’t take me long to settle in. I hang up my clothes by color, and I organize Puck Fitzgibbons’ jackets in the mudroom the same way.
That night, after the pup settles into a dog bed and Calico Jack climbs to the top of his cat tower to enjoy his one-eyed view of the city at night, Dev, Ledger, and I head to the kitchen to break open a bottle of champagne.
This one isn’t on Aiden. It’s on Chase and Ryker and Stefan and Hayes. “Welcome to the double-team team,” their note says.
After we toast, Ledger roams his eyes up and down my body. “I’m wondering how this really tastes…”
A few minutes later, I’m on a big towel on the couch in the living room, and he’s licking champagne off my back, then the top of my ass.
When he flips me over, Dev gets in on the action, pouring some on my tits, then licking it off each one.
Soon, I’m squirming and wildly aroused, but they keep pouring more on me. Ledger leaves drops on my nipples for Dev to suck off. Dev pours some on my belly for Ledger to lick.
A drop slides down between my thighs.
They fight for it. But I hold up a hand. “Take turns, boys.”
They both growl. But then they take turns with me.
Ledger manhandles the fuck out of me, yanking me off the couch and bending me over the edge of it. He presses a firm, strong hand to my back. “Just like this,” he says coarsely, then takes out his cock and fills me to the hilt.
No protection this time. We’ve had the talk, and we’ve all been tested, and I’m on birth control.
With me bent over, he grabs my hair in his fist, my ass cheek in the other hand. Then he fucks me to a screaming orgasm while Dev leaves the room for a few minutes, then returns to down a glass of champagne as I finish.
I’m panting and moaning when Dev hauls me onto the couch, puts me on my hands and knees, and gets behind me. He fucks me like a wild man, just the way I like it.
Yeah, I think I like living with my guys as much as I like when they take turns.
* * *
One evening after work in January, I find Trina waiting for me outside the salon, a scarf wrapped around her neck, a cute red hat on her head. She doesn’t have an appointment, but I’m always happy to see her.
“Want to grab a drink? I have a proposition for you,” she says.
“Ooh, baby. I love it when you talk dirty to me.”
She leans in and whispers, “It’s definitely a little dirty.”
Color me intrigued.
We head to Sticks and Stones, and over a glass of wine, she draws a deep breath and says, “I want to open a romance-only bookstore. I’d like to call it Once Upon A Good Time.
There’s a block on Fillmore Street that has some spaces.
And,” she says, and her words are shaky with excitement, “one of them is perfect for a little hair salon. Right next door. We’d be neighbors and it could be a combo bookstore/hair salon.
We could call our pair of stores Books and Beauty, and market them together. What do you think?”
My jaw falls open. I’m not even sure what to think, except running a business with my bestie sounds like another dream I didn’t know I had.
But now it’s one I desperately want to come true.
Bronze has always been supportive. He’s said he thinks I could run my own place someday. Maybe that someday is now.
“And I think I know how I can pay for it,” I say.
* * *
That weekend, I’m in a jewelry shop. A silver-haired man with crinkled eyes peers through a loupe at my engagement ring. “Big spender.” He whistles.
I furrow my brow. No way was Aiden generous in the ring department. “He said it was maybe worth a few thousand. But he was just guessing,” I say. “He picked it up at an estate sale and didn’t see the point in checking the value since he said it was such a good deal.”
I’m hoping the value of this ring and some of my savings on apartment rent might be enough for me to pay for the first few months of a salon lease.
The man looks my way with the loupe still in his eye. A sly smile curves his lips. “Your ex-fiancé is a dingleberry. He should have had it appraised. But his loss.”
I might love this man. “Why?” I ask, holding onto the display case, eager to hear the real value.
He lowers his voice even though it’s only us in the shop. “The cut and clarity are excellent.” Then he tells me the value. I nearly stumble. It’s several times what Aiden guessed. “He didn’t know what this was worth.”
Story of Aiden’s life.
My grin turns electric. “And it’s all mine.”
* * *
That night, neither of my guys has a hockey game, so the three of us take Puck Fitzgibbons, who’s a whopping twenty-seven pounds of energizer dog now, to the park.
As I toss him a frisbee, I tell the guys about the place I want to turn into a salon.
“It has brick walls, which I love. But I’d install black sinks and silver mirrors to mix a homey and a modern feel. ”
“It sounds perfect,” Ledger says.
“It is.” Then, I hesitate. “The only issue is it’s a small space. I always imagined a slightly bigger salon. But it’ll be fine for my first salon. I think if it’s just me and one other booth, I can make the rent for the place. I think.”
At least that’s what I tell myself.
“And this is what you want?” Dev asks as if he wants to be absolutely certain.
I weigh his question, but the reality is it just feels right—in my gut. And I’ve been learning to trust my gut. “I do want it.”
“You should go for it,” Ledger says.
“You absolutely should,” Dev echoes.
I cherish their support.
* * *
A few weeks later, Trina and I are working to finalize the deal. I’m crunching numbers over Saturday morning coffee at the kitchen counter when an email lands on my phone.
My heart drops like an anchor as I read the disappointing email from the landlord.
Last night, he writes, he got a better offer on the lease for the little space.
But there’s real estate on the other side of the bookstore which is a lot bigger and could be retrofitted.
I could rent that one, he suggests. But it’s much more expensive.
That sounds too daunting, and I definitely don’t have the money for a bigger space.
“Maybe it wasn’t meant to be,” I tell the guys as they grab their water bottles before heading to the gym for a morning workout.
“But you liked the space,” Dev says, annoyed on my behalf.
“It was perfect for you,” Ledger adds, equally irritated.
“I did and that’s true.” I shrug sadly. “But what can you do?”
Two hours later, they come home, but they’re not sweaty. “Did you not work out?” I ask, eyeing them up and down.
Ledger smiles like a cat and shakes his head. “Nope.”
“We made a deal instead,” Dev adds, his eyes twinkling.
“What did you do?” I ask, a little giddy, a little nervous.
Ledger reaches for my hand. “We’ll show you.”
I leash up my pup and the four of us head down Jackson Street to Fillmore. We turn onto the busy shopping street and weave through Saturday crowds until we reach the empty block.
There are three spaces here. The little potential salon, the bookstore space, and the bigger potential salon.
They stop in front of the planned bookstore. The small place that would have been my own salon mocks me. But the bigger spot on the other side? It is huge, and also too big for my little wallet.
Ledger takes a deep breath. “We bought them both,” he says. “Both spaces next to the bookstore.”
My head spins, and I stutter, “You did?” They can’t be serious.
Ledger’s smile is sweet, a little unsure.
“When you mentioned the bigger space this morning, everything clicked. I had a wild idea, and you can say no. I swear you can say no, honey,” he assures me.
He sounds so vulnerable but so excited too.
“We saw the landlord an hour ago and made an offer he couldn’t refuse for both places.
The little space and the bigger one. I thought this one”—he gestures to the big place—“would be a perfect hair salon for you. And the little one? That seems perfect for an ex-hockey player who wants to try his hand at running a plant shop.”
My hand flies to my mouth, then I let go and jump into his arms. “That’s so perfect for you. I love it. And I love you. You have to do it. I insist. I insist so hard.”
“But if you want more space and don’t want to work next to me, I’ll find another place in the city,” he says, clearly wanting to make sure this works for me.
But it does. Oh yes, it does.
“We want you to have the space next to your friend, though,” Dev puts in. “So we bought them both.”
I hug Ledger tighter then let go and throw my arms around Dev. “I love you guys so much.”
When I break the embrace, Ledger still looks unsure, his smile tentative. “If you don’t want to work close to me, it’s fine, Aubrey. I get it.”
I swat his arm. “I do. I really, really do.”
I can picture it now. My salon next to my best friend’s bookstore next to my guy’s brand-new plant shop.
* * *
A few months later, a neon sign in bright, bold pink lights up the front of my salon, reading Hello, Gorgeous. It’s right next to the fabulous bookstore Once Upon A Good Time. On the other side is the cutest plant shop in the city—Welcome to the Jungle.
It’s my favorite block in San Francisco.
Especially when the first day is bustling, and Ledger sells more succulents, prayer plants, and ferns than he’d ever expected.
When the clock hits closing time, we lock up and head together to the arena. His team is out of playoff contention, but the Golden State Foxes aren’t. Ledger and I have on our matching jerseys, and we’re going to cheer on our favorite goalie.
When Dev wins that night, advancing to the next round, the whole crew celebrates at Sticks and Stones. As our friends head off to play a round of pool, Dev wraps an arm around me. “We have another gift for you.”
“You really do spoil me,” I say, chiding him, but not really.
“We do,” Ledger says, then hands me a card.
I open it. There’s a gift certificate they made, and it says, “For a lifetime of adventures.”
The start is in June, when we return to Vancouver to finish the trip we started last year.
Then go on to have many, many more.
And I say yes with no reservations.
THE END