"Hey, Andy.How’sit feel having a sugar daddy?" Aubrey teases as he casually walks past with more furniture.
"Vince isn't my—"
"Yes, I am, my sweet sugar baby," I say, grinning.
Andy's eyes widen in horror, but I can see the laughter he's holding back.
"No!" Tina slaps her hands over her ears. Malia cackles.
"Wow," Andy says, turning to the girls with mock exasperation. Then his gaze softens, locking onto mine. "I lovethis dork.What's wrong with me?"
I break up the group hug to claim Andy for myself, ignoring the girls' groans of secondhand embarrassment as they smack me and retreat to unloading the car.
In a hushed voice, I tell him, "Nothing's wrong with you. You just have terrible taste in men."
Andy's face flushes red as he laughs, throwing his arms around my shoulders.
My heart feels so full. I couldn't be happier... with this man, with how much he loves me, how much he loves my girls. Andy is everything I've ever wanted.
"I love you, Andy," I whisper. "Please, just let me love you. Please."
He hugs me tighter, burying his face in my neck.
"Fine."
This is it. This is us.
And it feels right.
Epilogue
The Comic Relief
Andrew
Andy
VinceandIareon the couch in our beach house, his arm draped over my shoulders as I lean into his side. The coffee table is cluttered with a bowl of popcorn and stacks of my books... we still haven't figured out where to put everything. Vince takes every opportunity to call me a dork as he moves the stacks of books around the house, claiming they're plotting to take over.
A larger bookshelf is on order, though I've made him promise not to buy me an e-reader. Knowing him, he probably will anyway... I'm already practicing letting it go, but it's hard for me.
The TV screen flickers to life, and Vince nudges me gently. "It's starting," he says, his grin as wide as I've ever seen it.
Relay's pilot is premiering, and I'm hit with a wave of emotions... excitement, nostalgia, and a good dose of nerves. This show has been one of the wildest experiences of my life. I know I'm the comic relief, the butt of the joke, and I just hope watching it won't make me cringe too hard. More than anything, I hope it won't harm my reputation now that I have my studio.
Never in my wildest dreams did I think I'd be here: living in a beach house with Vince, head over heels in love with him, owning a successful yoga studio, and surrounded by the best friends I could ask for. It feels like a dream.
The episode begins, and within minutes we laugh so hard that tears stream down our faces.
The editing is brilliant, the banter between Vince and me electric. The contestants are hilarious, but the editing team? They should have been paid more.
"I don't even know how I landed that job," I say, wiping a tear of laughter from my eye.
Vince smirks. "I kind of told Gary to tell the producers I wouldn't do it unless they hired you."
I freeze, staring at him. "Wait, what?"
"You made me laugh. Like, genuinely. Everyone else was either boring or couldn't handle me. I knew you could." His grin turns sly.
