“Let me feed you first, Sunny,” I murmur into her hair, my hand sliding down to the bottom hem of my T-shirt she’s wearing that’s riding up her side. “We need to make sure you stay hydrated and fed and that you’re getting enough salt and electrolytes, all that jazz.”
She turns her head to look at me, arching a brow. “Are you a doctor now, Matteo?”
“We could play doctor,” I smirk.
“That’s what I’m trying to get at, you idiot.” She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. “Wait, your hand.” She purses her lips, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about it and I don’t want to?—”
“Sunny.” I cut her off, pulling her onto my body with my good arm. I hold my left off to the side as her legs part and she straddles me.
Her hair falls forward, framing her face. “Yeah?” she rasps as she settles on my lap.
“Stop worrying about me,” I smile, lifting my good hand to the side of her face. “I’m good. Better now,” I chuckle, lifting my hips to grind my cock against her.
She chuckles. “You’re crazy.”
“I already told you,” I say, dragging her face down to mine. “Only ever about you.”
“I could get used to that,” she smiles, the light from the climbing sun out the window catching on her blue eyes. I trace the constellations of freckles across her nose before losing myself in her gaze.
“Good, because that’s never changing,” I promise, my voice thick with emotion as my lips find her, just like they always do.
For the first time in a long time, the future doesn’t feel uncertain.
It feels as though it’s already started, and it’s started with her.
EPILOGUE
MATTEO
“Art was my first love, but Clara Foss—she was my last.” - Julian Hart, Painted Inferno
Asmile tugs on my lips as I read the script written across a chalkboard sign outside of theater seven.
Q&A with Jade Wilson, International Bestselling Author of Painted Inferno
The event is already underway as I slip inside. Her laughter echoes throughout the room, the sound tugging on the strings attached to my heart. My chest warms and I find an empty seat at the back of the room.
She doesn’t know I’m here. Hell, she didn’t even know I was coming. She still thinks I’m in St. Louis, getting ready to fly to Detroit. What she doesn’t know is that I took a flight separate from the team to Chicago first.
This is the second to last stop on her book tour and so far, I’ve had to miss every stop. This was the only one I could make and the only way I was able to make it.
After her book was finished with the final round of edits, she finally let me read it and I’m forever in awe of the story she crafted. It’s a story about two rival artists who end up having to collaborate on a project together for an exhibition. It’s an angst-filled story with the tender tug of war between two hearts who can’t seem to stay apart, even while the two main characters fight against it the entire time.
It’s perfect, just like her.
I stare up at the stage with the bright lights shining down upon Jade. She’s sitting in an armchair on the left and her conversation partner is sitting in the one to her right. She’d been so nervous about all of this and seeing her up there right now—it looks as if her anxiety never existed.
A smile tugs on my lips and pride swells inside my chest. I always knew she could do it. I pull my gaze from her, glancing around the historical theater with almost every single seat filled. She was so afraid no one would show.
Doesn’t she get it yet?
I may be the one who has her heart, but I’m not the only one who loves her. She has so many readers who love every single thing she writes. She deserves it. She deserves to be seen and to be heard and to be celebrated.
To be loved.
Her voice carries through the room, pulling my attention back to her. I didn’t catch the question her conversation partner asked. Jade’s face relaxes, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she smiles.
“My boyfriend was a huge help with the inspiration behind the whole story. I was struggling with writer’s block when we ran into each other. We ended up striking a deal where he said he would help me.” A smirk tugs on her lips. “I’d say it worked, wouldn’t you?”
