She lifted her head, looking up at him. “Everyone?”
“Well, Iwasgoing to say publishers and studio execs,” he said, cocking his head. Then he gently ran a hand through her hair. “But yeah. Everyone.”
She just smiled, settling back against him. Felt the softness of his sweater under her cheek, the solid warmth of his body beneath. Breathed in the scent of him, faint cologne and something deeper, more human, proving he was really there.
This wasn’t safe. It wasn’t controlled. It wasn’t perfect.
But it was real.
And for Emma Whitehart, that was the only story worth writing.
Epilogue
Someday later. Somewhere else. Something new beginning.
Emma didn’t even notice her tea had gone cold.
She was curled up in an oversized Chesterfield chair, legs tucked beneath her, fingers flying across the keyboard.
The words came easily tonight. Clear and purposeful in the way only a second draft could be. Fixing everything she’d gotten wrong the first time around. She barely registered the low hum of the city outside or the late hour slipping past.
Her phone buzzed on the table. She jumped, then reached for it, blinking at the name on the screen.
Leah.
Emma pulled the pen from her hair, letting it tumble over her shoulders, then swiped to answer.
“Hi, gorgeous!” Leah called. The noise of New York traffic bled in behind her voice, neon signs flashing past over her shoulder. “Sorry I didn’t call at six like I said—I got stuck in a meeting with the Bellster. Now that she’s finally started doing them, it’s like she’s trying to catch up on everything she’s missed.”
“No worries,” Emma chuckled. “It’s so good to see you, Leah. How is Kay?”
Leah rolled her eyes dramatically, the camera bobbing with her steps. “Driving me nuts as usual. I’m starting to regret I ever signed her.”
“No, you’re not.” Emma’s smile was earnest. Not even the faintest flicker of jealousy, even though Leah had been handling Kay almost full-time these last few months.
Emma had been keeping quite busy herself.
“No, I’m not,” Leah admitted. “She’s a pain in my ass, but she’s brilliant. And speaking of brilliant, I just finished the draft you sent for the sequel. Em, are youkiddingme? It’s perfect! It’s—screw it, I love it. You wrote the hell out of this book.”
Emma leaned back, warmth unfurling in her chest. Her bones felt made of light—like Catlyn the moment she first tapped into her power. “Thanks. It’s just the first draft, though. I’m already elbow-deep in the second.”
“Of course you are.” There was a softness in Leah’s voice that almost resembled pride. “By the way, did Netflix confirm Josh Taylor yet?”
“Yeah.” Emma had received the email a few days ago. The role of Lucen had finally gone to a young New York actor with only a handful of roles behind him. He was a little thinner, his features sharper than the Lucen she’d imagined. But he almost,almosthad the same magnetic gaze as the man she’d actually pictured.
Emma had been to one of his auditions. Josh was a goofy and sweet guy in person, but as soon as he stepped onto the stage, his whole demeanor changed, and he absolutely killed it with his performance.TheBonds of Lightfans would embrace him with open arms. Maybe a little too open, knowing her fandom.
“You okay about it?” Leah asked. “I know it’s not who you really hoped for.”
Somewhere behind Emma, a door opened and closed quietly.
“Totally fine,” she said. “Josh will be amazing. I just hope he’s ready for the oncoming storm of violent fan affection.”
“He’ll learn to love it.” Leah shrugged. “Or he’ll freak out and spiral into weird indie movies, like Pattinson afterTwilight. Either way, he’ll be fine. So. FaceTime drinks later to celebrate that you finished the draft? Toasting to the glorious return of emotional vulnerability and character torture?”
Emma hesitated, then grinned crookedly. “Can’t. It’s already past bedtime here.”
Leah frowned. “What do you mean it’s...wait.” She squinted into the camera, her face filling the screen. “Why is it dark outside on your end? Aren’t you in Minneapolis?”
