“Shut up,” I say. “I always knew I wanted you in mine. I just didn't think—and don’t laugh at me—I didn’t think I deserved you.”
“Scott. Stupid, stupid Scott. If anyone doesn’t deserve someone, it’s me who doesn’t deserve you. And it pisses me off that you still don’t see that. So I guess I’ll have to make it my mission to prove you wrong.”
I grin before he kisses me again.
“Ooh!” comes from beside us.
I turn to see Jordan standing there. He has that same smirk on his face that I’m used to seeing on Mikey’s.
“Is there even pizza coming?” I ask.
“I mean, therecanbe if we order some. I just thought this would be a funny way for you to find out Mikey was here. He texted me when he was at the airport that he was on the way.”
“You guys are both assholes.”
“Well,” Mikey says, “I think you’re falling in love with at least one of these assholes.”
“Yes, I am.” I kiss him again. We wrap our arms around each other, holding each other close.
“Okay, I'll go order the pizza,” Jordan says as he leaves us alone in the entryway—the place where we first met when I was pissed as hell at him.
And now I've gone and fallen for him.
EPILOGUE
Five Years Later
I’m on my knees, hammering a nail into the board of a shelf I’m making for the baby room. It’s a bookshelf like the one we made for little Roger. Scott liked it so much, he wanted one for our kid.
Work's been so busy, I haven't had time for this project, but we’ve had nearly two years to prepare the room, so most everything else is in place. We picked out the crib together at Toys “R” Us the day we signed the papers with the surrogacy program, and the periwinkle paint on the walls was the subject of several heated debates until Scott finally caved and admitted it was fine for us to paint a girl’s room blue. Many, but not all, of the toys around the room used to be Roger’s—ones he’s too old for now, including a familiar panda that still reminds me of those early days with Scott when we were just getting to know each other. That was back when our relationship was so new and I never could have realized exactly how much I would come to love Scott Wintry.
As I finish hammering, I inspect the bookshelf, making sure it's sturdy.
As a rock.
“Need a hand?”
I turn to see Scott standing in the doorway, hands in the front pockets of his jeans, a gray tee tight against his chest and revealing the groove between the muscles in his torso.
“Just finishing up.” I set the hammer on top of the shelf and approach him, offering what I intend to be a soft kiss, but as soon as I taste him, I can’t help myself. I slide my arm around to the small of his back and pull him close to me.
My dick goes hard, and I push him back against the wall across from the doorway.
He sets his hand on the back of my head.
“I thought you had to work,” I say when I manage to pull away for a moment.
“I finished up early. Thought we could make time for something special since we both have a little spare time on our hands. Past few days have been so busy.”
This isn’t like the days when we first met when Scott was taking on freelance projects to make money. Three years ago, he was approached by a major ad company, and now he works exclusively for them at an incredibly salary that blows mine out of the water.
I’m proud as fuck of him, too. Not just because his skill and talent landed him the job, but because he busts his butt and still makes time for his own work—art that I can tell satisfies him beyond a paycheck.
“Something special?” I ask him. “What did you have in mind?”
“I think you know exactly what I had in mind.”
I growl before kissing him again and moving my hands under his shirt, kneading his flesh.
