Epilogue
Jade
Seven Months Later
The smell of roast turkey, mashed potatoes, and absolutely every good holiday smell you could think of filled Gordon’s dad’s restaurant. A hand-cut Christmas tree sat in the store’s window, red and green ornaments and golden twinkle lights beckoning people inside.
Though, tonight, it was a private party.
The bell chimed as my parents rushed in the door, instantly spotting me near the tree. They wrapped their arms around me, squeezing me like I hadn’t just been home to visit on Thanksgiving.
“Missed you both, too,” I said, chuckling.
“Did you bring it?” my mom asked, her eyes scanning my body like I could produce a full drawing from beneath my sweater.
“Yeah, it’s over here,” I said, tugging her toward the corner booth where we had all tucked our coats and bags. I scooped out my leather-bound sketchbook and opened to the first page.
Mom gasped. “It’s gorgeous!” She held the drawing closer to her. “I’m so proud of you, Jade.”
“Me, too,” Dad said as he scanned the picture over her shoulder.
I’d won the semester award for best charcoal drawing in my course at UCLA. It had taken two months for my mom to come around and realize that my gift wasn’t just crunching numbers. That I had a passion for drawing and creating and storytelling. Once I sat her down and showed her my graphic novel concept—which was still a work in progress—she finally understood that it was a calling in my blood I couldn’t ignore. Now, we had never been closer.
I hugged my arms around myself, glancing over my shoulder at where Gordon, Fynn, and Lennon chatted behind the kitchen doors.
I had him to thank for the change in our relationship. For the understanding. For me chasing my dream as hard as he did his. My heart did a flip when he caught me staring at him through the window. I instantly blushed, something I still couldn’t control when he flashed me that damn wolfish grin of his. I quickly tucked my drawing away, and my parents found Zoey’s across the room talking to Braylen’s mom.
Ducking away from all things parental talk, I rushed over to Zoey and Braylen who were behind the bar, sneaking bites of the desserts Gordon’s dad had laid out earlier that day.
“Jade!” Zoey tugged me closer, shoving a mini croissant into my hand. “You have to try this,” she said, her eyes rolling back in her head. “Bray can’t because of the Nutella.” She flashed her an apologetic look. “But I need someone to appreciate this with me.”
I laughed, giving the same sympathetic look to Bray as I shoved the treat into my mouth. “Oh my God!” The hazelnut, chocolate, and savory dough combo was to die for. I quickly straightened, glancing at Bray. “I mean…it’s not that great. Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” She laughed and held up a candied strawberry. “These are freaking addictive. I’ve had five already.”
“Shhh!” Zoey scolded her, darting her gaze over her shoulder where the boys were still occupied behind the kitchen door. “If Gordon’s dad hears that, we’ll all be in trouble!”
“Please,” I said. “He has basically adopted you.”
“Right?” Braylen agreed, bumping Zoey’s shoulder with her own. “He hugged you first when you walked in the door!” Bray laughed. “You and Gordon have been holed up at Stanford for months! And he went for you first.”
Zoey smiled, shrugging. “Well? Like I can help how likeable I am.”
We all chuckled at that.
“I’ve missed you both,” I admitted.
Braylen nodded. “It’s good to be home, but seriously Northwestern is—”
“Amazing,” Zoey and I said at the same time. “We know,” I continued the joke.
Braylen hadn’t been able to stop texting about it. How happy she and Fynn were doing real journalistic courses together. Bray, Zoey, and I had an ongoing group text—an oath between us to stay close despite being spread out across the country. So far, it worked.
“How’s the graphic novel coming?” Braylen asked.
“Yeah!” Zoey smacked my shoulder. “I’m dying to know if Harley actually gets her steam-powered shield thingy to work.”
My heart expanded in my chest at the same time my cheeks flushed. I was still getting used to my friends reading my stories. Stories that used to be for my eyes only.
Until Lennon.
He’d changed my world, and I was so stupid in love with him it was nearly impossible to contain.
As if he could hear my thoughts, he strolled out of the kitchen and quickly set a giant dish of bacon green beans down on the twelve-top table that had been set especially for us. Then he was crossing the room, sauntering toward me with those eyes pinning me with each step. The boy still took my breath away.
“What are you girls conspiring about back here?” he asked, smoothing his arms around me, tucking my back against his chest. He planted a line of kisses down my neck, causing electric chills to race over my skin.
“Nothing,” we all said at the same time, Zoey and Braylen quickly hiding their sugarcoated napkins.
“Uh-huh,” Lennon said. “Maybe I should tell Gordon and Fynn to keep a better eye on you.”
“Tell Gordon what?” Gordon’s voice made Zoey jolt as he came around the corner. He draped an arm around her shoulder and she leaned into the touch.
“Did you lose a bet again?” Fynn asked, quickly following behind. He interlaced his fingers with Braylen’s, like it wasn’t even a thought.
“No!” Gordon shook his head, eyeing Zoey. “I mean…” He laughed. “Not lately.”
Zoey rolled her eyes. “Statistics classes have been keeping him pretty busy.” She glanced up at him, patting his chest. “That and our Game of Thrones binge watch.”
Braylen and Fynn high-fived each other.
“Yes,” Bray said. “I knew we’d get you hooked.”
“What house are you in?” Fynn asked.
“We both got Stark.”
Fynn and Bray hissed at the same time, like they were in sync. “Nice! No Targaryens, but we’ll get along.”
Zoey glanced at Lennon, who stared at them as blankly as I was. “Oh, you see, Lennon, there are these houses—”
He laughed, the rumble from his chest doing funny things to my spine. “We know about Game of Thrones,” he said. “We’re just behind. Just made it into season three.”
The rest of their eyes went wide.
“What?” I asked, straightening. “What happens in season three?” Panic colored my tone.
“Nothing,” they all said, shaking their heads.
Lennon and I laughed. “Not cool,” I said. I shifted to look up at him. “We’ll have to catch up during break.” He’d decided to take strictly online courses at UCLA in order to keep his foot in both my world and his. Connecting us while also grounding him.
“Agreed,” he said, tracing his lips over my forehead.
“When do you go back on tour?” Fynn asked.
“Middle of January,” he said. I ached at the thought of him going back on the road, but we’d make it work. We’d Facetime every night, and after the spring semester ended I’d join him on the road. Everything he’d worried about—the parties, the groupies, the pressure of space between us—hadn’t been a problem and it wasn’t going to be. We loved each other, more than I knew possible.
“Nice!” Braylen nodded.
“How are the online courses going?” Zoey asked.
Lennon grinned down at me. “I’m passing thanks to this girl.”
“Please,” I said, shaking my head. “He’s fine. He doesn’t even need me.”
Lennon jerked, gaping at me. “Don’t you ever say that again, mathlete.”
I chuckled. “Whatever you say, rock star.”
“It’s so cool you get to go on the road with him after spring semester ends,” Braylen said, a total hint of admiration in her tone. She was still a diehard Ignited Hearts fan.
I squeezed Lennon’s arm. “I’m lucky,” I said.
Their producer ended up liking my concept art for their album that would drop next month, so that gave me the perks to travel on the road with them. After the semesters, of course. He wouldn’t dare ask me to give up my dream of getting my art degree, no matter how much we missed each other when we were away.
“Hey,” Fynn said. “I’ve been meaning to thank you for that backstage invite.” He smiled at Lennon then winked down at Braylen who gaped between the two of them.
“What?” she squealed.
“No worries,” Lennon said.
Bray clapped her hands. “When?”
“We’re playing a show here in March.”
“Oh my God! I can’t wait!” She glanced at Zoey and Gordon. “Will you two be here for Spring break?”
They nodded. “We wouldn’t miss it.”
“Yes!”
I smiled up at Lennon, wanting nothing more than to get him alone and kiss the breath from him. He was the beating heart of our little group, connecting us on more levels than he even realized.
I didn’t know happiness like this existed until the rock star had shaken up my world.
“All right, everyone!” Gordon’s dad called from the long table. “Time to eat.”
We all took our seats, our gazes widening at the amazing amount of food laid down the center of the table.
“This looks amazing, Mr. Meyers,” I said, not knowing where to start.
“It does,” Zoey and Braylen chimed in their agreements, our parents all following with their praise.
“Thank you,” Mr. Meyers said as he stood at the head of the table. His gaze passed over each of us. “Honestly,” he continued, “thank you for being here. This little family means more to me than I think any of you know. And the fact that we get to celebrate a holiday together, here, in this restaurant…” He flashed a proud look at Zoey’s dad. “My heart is full.”
“Dad,” Gordon groaned, but despite his feigned embarrassment he got up and crushed him in a hug.
“All right, all right,” Mr. Meyers said as Gordon reclaimed his seat. “Enough with the heavy.” He motioned toward the incredible spread. “Dig in.”
And we did.
We ate until we were stupid full and happy and then we pressed on to dessert. We rode the sugar high, the high of good food and friends and family.
After, I snuck away to a corner, content to watch the happiness engulf the room as they cleared the table. Lennon found me, an easy grin on his face. I instantly wrapped my arms around him, crushing my lips on his. I kissed him hard and fierce and put every bit of thankfulness into it I possessed.
“Whoa,” he said after I pulled away from him for air. “What was that for?”
I beamed up at him. “You made this all happen.”
He scrunched his brow at me. “What?”
“If you hadn’t thrown that grad party…” I shrugged, worrying my bottom lip between my teeth for a few seconds. “Who knows where any of us would be.”
“You’d be here.” He squeezed me tighter against him. “Right here.”
“Maybe,” I said, smiling. “But there was something magical about that night, Lennon. You have to admit it. Our friends came together because of it. So many happily ever afters all by your own fingertips.” I reached up on my tiptoes, planting him with another kiss.
He jolted within my embrace and let me go with a reluctant look on his face. He sprinted to the other side of the bar, grabbing a pen and jotting down notes on a menu pad.
I chuckled, and after he finished writing he smirked at me. “Thanks for that one, my muse,” I said.
“That’s what I’m here for,” I said. “That and your aversion to crunching numbers.”
“Well,” he said, dropping the pen. “We can’t all have brains that work both logically and creatively.”
I eyed the paper as he left it sitting there to come wrap his arms around me again. “New song?” I asked.
“Might be my best one yet.”
“What’s it about?”
He brushed his lips over mine, and I breathed in his leather-and-citrus scent.
“Happily ever afters.”
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