“LALALA I’m not listening!” she howls.
I’m shaking with laughter. “We’ll meet you at Lolita’s in a bit."
“Fine, but hurry up. I don’t have all day to waste waiting for you stubborn, easily distracted, horny shrews,” she snaps. “And I’m pretending you two were cuddling on the couch.”
“We’re actually in a chair—”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP, WINIFRED!”
Win bursts into maniacal laughter while Andrea curses him out some more and I relish it all. Take mental videos. Hold onto it with everything I am.
Because this?
It’s everything.
Epilogue 2
Win
Ilove my boyfriend. Eternally. But the guy doesn’t know how to take a hint for the life of him.
“But you hate the beach,” Remy insists, slinging one of our coolers over his shoulder. I can’t help staring at the flex of his muscles beneath bare, tanned skin…
Ever since we moved into our new apartment last year, he’s been going to the gym like it’s his full-time job. He claims I overfeed him, but that doesn’t stop him from eating everything I make. I’ve been hyper-fixated on baking lately (My therapist recommended branching out my hobbies after almost relapsing on the anniversary of the worst day of my life) and caught him at midnight stuffing his face with cookies after claiming earlier I was trying to get him fat.
I refuse to let him live it down.
“Baby, you haven’t shut up about wanting to visit this spot for a fucking month,” I laugh.
“But it’s hot out. And sunny. What if you burn?”
“That’s what sunscreen and umbrellas are for: protecting vampires.”
He bites the inside of his cheek, attempting to hide his smile. I wiggle my eyebrows, pointing the umbrella in my hand toward the trail. “Are we going? Or are you gonna stand there making a hundred excuses?"
He squints. “Who are you and what did you do with my boyfriend?”
Blowing out a sigh, I drop my head back. “Dear Universe, give me the patience to deal with this paranoid, stubborn brat.”
“I amnota brat!”
I smirk. “You’re right. You’re THE brat.”
His nose scrunches as he marches up to me. Fuck, he’s sexy when he’s irritated. My dick wakes up at his proximity.
“Careful, Prince Winston,” he murmurs. “Your sass is gonna earn you a sore ass.”
Yep. My dick is at attention.
“Promise?”
He huffs, “Menace,” under his breath before leading the way down the path through a canopy of mangroves. Grinning, I sling a towel over my shoulders and jog to catch up.
Sun filters through the wide leaves, a slight breeze cutting through the branches smelling of low tide. Broken shells segue into fine white sand as we emerge onto the secluded beach.
It’s been eight years since we’ve been here.
Eight years since he kissed me for the first time.
