Our party reaches the hotel William and I will be staying at, which turns out to be everyone’s place of lodging for the night. We settle into the public dining room, ordering drinks and food, and catch up on all that we’ve missed.
William squeezes my hand under the table, and I squeeze his back. I’m giddy over his touch, his proximity, the mere thought that he’s mine. I no longer shy away from that excited feeling, or even the spark of terror that comes with it. Excitement and terror often go hand in hand. I’m ready to face it all now that I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. With the man I love. The people I cherish.
This is the start of our adventure. Our relationship. Our story.
Wherever we go, whatever we do, I’m home.
BONUS EPILOGUE
ONE YEAR AFTER THE HEARTBEATS TOUR
MONTY
Based on my history of destroying every good thing, I should have known when Mr. Fletcher called me into his office that this would be the day I royally fuck up.
Mr. Fletcher stands behind his desk and slams a paper down before me. “What is this?”
“Broadsheets, sir,” I say, lounging in the chair on the other side of the expanse of mahogany that takes up half his office. “This particular paper is the Cedar Hills Gazette.”
“I’m talking about this,” he says, tapping my black-and-white portrait at the bottom of the front page. “Your interview with Hansel Bonesmith about two of our authors.”
I shrug. “He asked for insight into everyone’s favorite real-life love story.”
Mr. Fletcher rubs his brow. He’s a burly man with dark hair and a thick mustache. I’ve always considered him a respectfulemployer, though he is a bit of a stickler for rules. Something I’ve never been too fond of. Unless we’re talking about the rules of a game, bet, or sport. In that case, I’m fully invested. Honestly, I’m surprised he agreed to publishA Portrait of June, Etched in Solaceat all, considering it came with a dash of deception.
He lowers his hand and taps the paper again. “You claimed to have played matchmaker for Edwina Danforth and William Haywood during their tour.”
“I did. Well, I think I did. Ask either of them and they’ll say I had nothing to do with it.”
“It’s clear you had something to do with it, thanks to this interview.”
“Thank you. At least someone believes me.”
“That’s not a good thing.” Mr. Fletcher lowers himself into his seat, elbows propped on his desk. “You claimed to have overseen a bet between them.”
“Fact.”
“A seduction bet.”
“Also a fact.”
“You offered to sleep with Miss Danforth.”
I hold up a finger. “Only to make William jealous. She turned me down besides.”
“You assaulted a fae male in an alley.”
“He tried to take advantage of Edwina. I have zero tolerance for such behavior.”
“You smoked drugs.”
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. Who calls the act of imbibing herbal substances through inhalationsmoking drugs?
I don an innocent expression. “You mean Moonpetal? Moonpetal is not a drug; it’s a relaxing fae herb, no different from what’s sold at the market. It just so happens to be unregulated.”
“Then you took them to an orgy.”
“A voyeurism club just so happened to be at the same respectable university party we—is that really what the reporter said? He better not have misconstrued my story.”
