The sun was shining, the birds were singing, the highway was wide open. We were zooming along at 80 mph down the Malibu coast, the wind zipping past us, blowing my hair every which way, and no doubt making it into something that would allow me to cosplay the Bride of Frankenstein for the next several hours.

But I didn’t care. I was in a cherry-red vintage convertible Mustang with a hot guy next to me, on a perfect California day. Life didn’t get any better than this.

“I think I’m getting used to being in the passenger’s seat,” Dash told me, his hands laced behind his head as he reclined in his seat while I deftly maneuvered the highway’s curves, driving us down towards the beach.

“Or maybe you just like getting to enjoy the view,” I countered.

“Oh yeah.” Dash leaned over and gave my thigh a squeeze. “I am definitely enjoying the view.”

I rolled my eyes in an attempt to hide my blush. Even after spending nearly three nonstop months together, I still wasn’t used to the endless compliments and attention I got from Dash. It was sexy and wonderful and perfect. Everything was.

The live finale of Ever After had been their highest rated ever. Dash’s declaration of love had gone viral, and both of our phones had been inundated with calls from tabloids and news sources, as well as friends and family who wanted to know if what they had seen on TV was true or if it was just another reality TV stunt.

Both of us had to tell our parents, which had been slightly awkward since very few people had known that we were dating in the first place, but once everything settled down, we got nothing but love and support from our friends and family.

The last few months had been amazing. Dash and I finally got to explore New York City together, which included seeing a Broadway performance with his parents, whom I met and now adored. I had been told that the feeling was mutual.

Dash had met Penny, who had given her approval, and we were planning on introducing him to my parents shortly. Things were moving almost as fast as the car I was driving, but I couldn’t have been happier.

Just before we reached the turnoff for the beach, we stopped for gas. Dash hopped out of the car and went to fill it up, while I headed in to get some supplies. I filled my arms with little bottles of booze and the kind of snacks you’d find in a motel vending machine, in honor of our first hookup of a date, way back in that crappy motel.

As I dumped them out on the counter in front of the cashier, I glanced out the window and saw Dash leaning up against the car, waiting patiently for me. My heart gave a little thump, and I took a moment to truly appreciate how lucky I was.

“Oh my god!” The girl behind the counter let out a shriek. “You’re her!”

She must have been in high school, her eyes wide behind her glasses, her gum about to fall out of her open mouth.

“You’re the girl from Ever After!” she gasped. She then practically threw herself over the counter to look outside and let out an even louder scream—one that almost deafened me. “And it’s him! Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!”

“Uh, hi,” I managed, tucking a strand of hair back behind my ear.

That was the one thing I was still getting used to—the whole getting recognized wherever you went thing. Now I understood how Emmy and Charlie felt. There was something ridiculous about it, but also kind of sweet, as indicated by the starry-eyed look in the young girl’s eyes when she looked at me.

“Can I get a selfie with you?” she asked.

I self-consciously touched my hair, imagining that it looked insane.

“Sure,” I told her, and she let out an excited squeal, running around the counter to stand next to me.

“I’m a huge fan of Ever After,” she said after we had taken several different options for social media. “And Dash was my favorite suitor. I’m so glad he didn’t end up with Kimmie.”

I smiled. The last I had heard, Kimmie was doing just fine, shacking up with Patrick on his yacht in the South of France.

“Though I was kind of rooting for Savannah,” my young fan admitted sheepishly.

I patted her hand. “I completely understand,” I said.

That had been one of the things I had been the most worried about. Savannah was beloved by America, and I had expected that most people would view me as the bitchy homewrecker, pulling apart what could have been America’s cutest couple, but I had been more worried about Savannah’s feelings.

Luckily, she wasn’t as naïve as I had assumed.

“I kind of guessed that something was going on,” she had told me when we had dinner a few nights after the finale.

“Really?” I was surprised.

“Well, you guys weren’t that subtle with all your longing looks and mental eye-sex,” she told me with a laugh.

I had felt embarrassed, but Savannah reassured me that there were no hard feelings.

“It’s obvious you two are made for each other,” she had told me. “Besides.” She’d given me a little shrug. “I guess I’ll get another chance to fall in love in front of America when I go on Andrea’s new show.”

It turned out that Andrea’s assistant job was for the new show she was launching as a counterpoint to Ever After, where Savannah would be the suitor, and a dozen guys would be competing for her hand. She seemed genuinely excited about it, and I was also thrilled to learned that Andrea had chosen Jasmine to be the show’s host. It looked like all three of my contestants were doing just fine.

I left my teenage fan and joined Dash at the car. Before I could get in, however, he pulled me into his arms and gave me a kiss so scorching that we might have given everyone within a fifty-foot radius a sunburn.

“What was that for?” I asked when we pulled apart.

“I just missed you,” he told me, kissing me once more.

“I was gone for five minutes,” I pointed out with a smile.

“I know.” He gave me a wink. “And it was five minutes too long.”

I laughed, and we got back in the car.

Even though it was a beautiful day, the beach was empty. We set up a little picnic on the sand, complete with my gas station booze and food supplies. I told Dash about our young fan, and he pulled out his phone and began searching for the photo that had probably been uploaded to social media. He found it on Instagram within a few minutes and made a point of liking and commenting on it.

“You probably just made her day,” I told him when he was done.

“I do what I can,” he said with a grin.

I pulled out a Cheeto and threw it at him. He caught it in his mouth.

“So, I heard that Andrea’s new show is starting up soon,” he said, trying to sound casual, and failing. “Have you decided what you’re going to do?”

Andrea had been calling since the end of the show, asking if I was going to accept the position as her assistant. I had agonized over the decision. I liked Andrea. Despite everything, I felt like she was a good person, and I liked that she had chosen Jasmine to be the host of her new show—that was a good sign—but I was still unsure about where I wanted my own career to go. Still, I had agreed to have a meeting with Andrea the day before so we could talk things over.

“We both agreed that I’m not really suited for reality TV,” I told Dash. I had talked to him about my indecision several times, but we’d never come up with a solution.

“So you turned down the job?” Dash asked.

I nodded, excited to tell him the news. “But we talked, and Andrea thinks that I have a career in TV. But a different kind of TV.”

Dash leaned back on his elbow, listening.

“Andrea called some friends of hers who work on scripted shows and asked if anyone was looking for a set PA. I have several interviews set up for this week with some of my favorite shows.”

I was practically bouncing from my excitement. I hadn’t expected Andrea to be so supportive, or so generous, after I turned down her job. But it seemed that she had faith in me. And that faith meant a lot to me.

Dash sat up and gave me a kiss. “That’s great,” he said. “I can see that being a really good fit for you.”

“I hope so,” I said, feeling thrilled about the whole thing. It was exactly what I needed. A fresh start in a business where I could do what I really wanted to do. “At least all the drama will be in the script. I just want to avoid as many catfights as possible.”

“You mean you don’t want to keep going on shows where there are hot-tub fights that get you thrown into pools?” Dash teased.

“Only if cute guys are there to rescue me from said pool,” I countered.

“Hmm . . .” He pretended to think. “I don’t know if I like this idea of other cute guys coming to your rescue. Doesn’t seem like I’d be able to compete with that over and over again.”

I gave him a kiss. “I think it’s best for both of us that I stay out of situations that get me thrown into pools, with or without cute guys present.”

“I think you’re right,” Dash agreed, and then he gave me a serious look. “But I’m really proud of you,” he said. “I think this is going to be a really good step in the right direction.”

His praise filled me with warmth and happiness. Things were good. So very good. It was hard to imagine it could get any better.

We finished up our picnic, and as the sun began to set, we took a walk along the beach. Dash kept me pulled tight against his side as we walked together.

“You really don’t mind moving to LA?” I asked, for what must have been the millionth time since we had left the East Coast. I had been nervous about leaving New York, where I didn’t have much, but at least I had my sister as a back-up couch if the production job didn’t work out. There wasn’t as much of a safety net out here. For me or Dash.

“Are you kidding?” he asked, gesturing around him. “Why would I mind any of this? It’s beautiful, and warm, and the chance of seeing you in a bikini year-round increased one hundred fold with our move.”

I gave him a gentle elbow in the side, but he turned to face me, lacing his fingers together behind my back, our hips pressed together. I loved the feel of his body against mine. Immediately heat rushed through me. I was dizzy from my need for him.

“You know I’d do anything for you, right?” he asked.

“Well, you did declare your love for me on national television,” I teased, pushing back the hair that had fallen across his forehead.

“Damn right I did,” he reminded me. “And don’t you forget it.”

I laughed, and felt something buzz.

“Is that a phone in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” I rolled my hips against his. I could never seem to get enough of him.

He let out a groan, heat sparking in his eyes. It seemed that the feeling was mutual. It made me feel sexy and desired.

“I will show you exactly what I have in my pocket,” he growled. “And exactly how happy it is to see you when we get back to our apartment.”

Our apartment. It wasn’t much—just a one-bedroom in Hollywood—but it was ours. Just the right place for us until Dash figured out his next step. Until we figured out our next step. Because we were in this together. No matter what.

“I can’t wait,” I told him, but gestured towards his pants. “But I really think that is your actual phone.”

Dash tweaked at my nose playfully and pulled out his phone. His eyebrows went up when he saw the name on the screen.

“It’s Grant,” he said, his voice cautiously optimistic.

“Answer it,” I urged him.

He did, and I watched as he nodded and made little agreeable grunts and hums. I wasn’t able to hear what his investigator was saying on the other line, so I just stood there, twisting my hands, hoping that he was getting good news. It had been a while since we’d heard about his former manager, and I knew that Dash had not been feeling optimistic about the whole thing.

“Great,” he finally said. “Thanks a lot, man.”

He hung up and turned to me.

“They got him,” he said, still staring at his phone, looking a little shell-shocked.

“What?” I wasn’t sure I had heard him correctly.

“My former manager,” Dash told me. “They found him in Costa Rica. They got him. And my money. They got my money back.” He glanced up at me, a smile breaking out across his face. “It’s all over.” He was elated. “They got him, and I don’t have to worry about it anymore. I have plenty of money to pay the lawyer and the investigators, and to pay off those remaining payments on my parents’ house.”

“That’s amazing!” I looped my arms around Dash’s neck and gave him a big hug and kiss. “Congrats! Best news ever.”

“Let’s celebrate!” he said, tugging my hand and pulling me back towards the car. “What do you want? A steak dinner? Lobster? Gold-encrusted chocolate?”

I backed him up against the car. “I don’t need anything,” I told him. “Just you.”

“Oh yeah?” He gave me a wicked grin. “So, a hot dog?”

I laughed, and he kissed me. He took his time, our tongues tangling as the wind blew around us. It was the perfect day. The perfect moment. The perfect everything.

“I can’t believe it’s finally over,” he told me when we broke apart, both of us breathing heavily.

I shook my head. “It’s not over.” I pressed my body against his, feeling how much he wanted me. How much he needed me. He let out a rumbling groan. “It’s just beginning.”

* * *

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