Epilogue
Quinn
T he private lounge at John. F. Kennedy International Airport is one of the swankiest lounges I’ve ever been lucky enough to spend time in. I feel like royalty as I lean back in my plush leather seat, my gaze sweeping over the luxurious amenities.
The breakfast buffet is insane—a range of fancy pastries, fruits, croissants, and cheeses, and the open bar, yeah, thank God Kael’s sober now, or some of us might not have made our flight.
Speaking of flights…ours departs in exactly twenty minutes, and Jaxon still hasn’t arrived at the airport.
Reed’s been pacing back and forth in front of me for the last hour, checking his phone every couple of seconds. “I don’t believe this,” he grunts, not for the first time. “How can he be late? I should call Nick. Do you think I should call Nick? I better call Nick…”
“He’s not officially late, yet ,” I intervene, trying to calm him down. A pissed-off Reed does not make for a pleasant long-haul flight. “Give him a few more minutes before we get Nick involved.”
I don’t know what he thinks Nick’s going to do about it anyway. Nick’s flight left an hour ago. He’s already up in the air with some of the record executives from Empress.
Reed stops pacing, and his blue eyes narrow in on me. “I didn’t sleep a wink last night because I didn’t want to miss my alarm. You’re here, Cassie’s here. Kael, Sienna, and Bailey, they’re all here.” He points to each of us in our little group in turn, as if we don’t know our own names. “Brinley and I made it here, so, why the fuck can’t Jaxon get here on time?”
Sienna glances across at her brother, Bailey, when Reed drops the F-bomb. Thankfully, he’s wearing noise canceling headphones, and he’s staring out the window at the jets lined up on the runway.
Kael is lounging in an armchair beside Sienna. He leans back, linking his fingers behind his head, and smiles so wide a dimple sinks into his left cheek.
“Do you have any idea how cool it is that you’re not talking about me like this for a change? Who would have ever thought I’d be the first one to arrive this morning? And it must be said, I’m not stoned, nor am I drunk off my ass.”
“That’s because you’ve got me, baby,” says Sienna, planting a soft kiss on Kael’s lips. “I’ll always be here for you.”
“And don’t think I’ll ever forget it, Jonesy. ”
Brinley’s flicking through a magazine on the couch opposite. “Reed, sit down,” she says absentmindedly, licking her finger and turning the page. “He’ll be here soon. Stop stressing.”
“Stop stressing?” Reed exhales harshly. “This is our first international tour, Tink. If Jaxon screws this up for us, I’ll never forgive him.”
“I get that you’re upset, but please try to calm down. We’re flying to Paris, Reed. Paris! I’m so excited, and you should be too. Let’s just try to enjoy the moment for what it is and not get too caught up in things you have no control over.”
Reed huffs and continues pacing.
Cassie is curled up at my side. We’re huddled together in a single large lounge chair, my arm slung over her shoulder. She looks up at me, and then touches her fingers to the small scar on my chin where they took my stitches out a few days ago.
“Does it still hurt?” she asks quietly.
I shake my head, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Nah, it’s just crazy itchy where my beard’s growing back in. Maybe I should just shave the whole thing off and be done with it.”
Cassie gasps. “No. You can’t be serious?”
“Are you telling me you’re a fan of the beard, Alabama?”
Her eyes go all dreamy, and she lowers her voice to just above a whisper. “You have no clue how much of a fan of the beard I am. Do you know how good the combination of all that soft and bristly hair feels between my thighs when you—”
“About fucking time!” Reed suddenly shouts, making us all jump in our seats. We swivel to see him glaring at Jaxon, who’s strolling through the lounge doors like he’s in no particular hurry at all, like he’s got all the time in the world.
He’s got his carry-on duffel bag tossed casually over his shoulder, and he’s wearing his usual head-to-toe black jeans and a fitted black T-shirt.
Nothing unusual there.
But he’s walking a couple of steps in front of a slender brunette who’s wearing a thick purple parka with a fur hood and bright pink mittens. Her short black hair is sticking out the bottom of a green knit hat, despite the fact that it’s gotta be seventy-eight degrees outside, and she’s pulling a yellow carry-on suitcase behind her that matches…are those rain boots?
What the fuck?
I don’t know about everyone else, but I’ve never seen this woman before in my entire life.
“Where the hell have you been?” seethes Reed.
“Been busy.”
Reed’s face grows redder than the sun. “Busy?” he shouts, turning to look at the rest of us like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. He turns back to glare at Jaxon. “Busy doing what?”
“Getting married.” Jaxon’s reply is curt, but a small smile lifts his lips. “Everyone, I’d like you to meet Nora. My wife.”
The End