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Maybe Richard Wells has some wisdom for me in the last few pages.

“What are you looking at?” I asked.

Richard smiled. “You.”

“Why?”

“Because I love you,” he said. “And I’m never going to stop.”

It was a line from one of my books. One that we wrote together. He owned as much of our story as I did.

“I love you, too,” I said.

Richard pulled me closer to him. I rested my head on his shoulder and the world went quiet.

Just the way we liked it.

I turn the page, hoping for more.

Ah, damn.

That’s it?

I set the book down on the tray in front of my seat.

“Did you finish it?” Paige asks beside me.

I nod. “Yeah, I finished it.”

She turns in her seat, abandoning her paperwork and giving me her full, undivided attention. “And?”

“It was okay,” I say.

“Okay?!”

“I was hoping for a bit more at the end.”

“They’re happy. They’re in love. What more do you want?”

“Someone could have been stabbed at least once,” I joke.

Paige snorts. “Jeez...”

“I’m kidding,” I say. “But—I think they could have punished the villain a little harsher. The, uh... the lawyer guy.”

“Tristan!” she says excitedly. “He gets his own book!”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s totally crazy. I thought the same thing as you when I first read Soulmates, but I did a complete one-eighty once I read Deep Midnight. Tristan is so misunderstood.”

“Let me guess,” I say with a sigh. “He has a deeply tragic backstory?”

“Yes!”

I roll my eyes. Figures.

“You have to read it,” Paige says. “I’ll lend you my copy.”