Page 99 of All In

“We didn’t even get to pick the song,” Harlow says, a pout on his pretty lips.

“I’ll dance with you to anything.”

I take his hand in mine and tug him to me as the music starts. We sway back and forth as the song plays. Harlow rests his head on my shoulder, his face close enough to my throat that each breath ghosts over the skin.

“Did we dance at prom?” he asks. “I can’t remember.”

I nod, holding him a little tighter. “We did. You looked stunning. Your hair was messy—”

Harlow laughs. “What else is new?”

“You were experimenting with eyeliner, and your eyes were so vibrant with the black liner you were wearing, and I wanted to kiss you so bad. I didn’t know what to do with myself.”

Harlow hums. “Wish you would’ve.”

I wish I would have too, but we can’t change the past. And who knows if things would have even worked out if I had? Maybe it was always meant to be this way. “I’m happy with how things turned out for us,” I say.

“Me too.” Harlow slides his hand up my back, pressing impossibly closer as he tilts his head back. “Could kiss me now, y’know?”

I smile down at him. “Oh, is that so?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Are you saying you don’t want to?”

Dipping down, I let my lips hover over his. “Not saying that at all. I’ll kiss you now and later, and tomorrow, and next week, and as many times as I can a day for the rest of our lives.”

Harlow surges up, slotting our lips together. Our swaying comes to a stop, and everything but him falls away. I cup the back of his head, tangling my fingers in his hair as his lips move slowly with mine.

Cheering and whooping pulls us out of the moment, and Harlow laughs against my lips, breaking the kiss.

Then I’m laughing too, pulling him tighter and wrapping him up in my arms.

Twelve-year-old me could have never fully grasped what being married to Harlow would be like, but honestly, sixteen-year-old me couldn’t have either.

It’s everything I thought it would be. Movie nights cuddled together on the couch and cooking dinner together. It’s going to bed together and waking up in each other’s arms. It’s even loving all the boring things.

But it’s also so much more. Beautiful smiles and radiant blue eyes and a warmth in my heart I didn’t know was possible. It’s laughing until we cry. Finding joy in the small moments. Peace. Love. Being home.

It’s everything.

Epilogue

Grayson—One year later

Harlow steps into the hotel and does a little twirl. “Back at the scene of the crime.”

I shake my head with a laugh. “I think the scene of the crime was actually some chapel. This was just the scene of the wake-up and freak-out.”

He laughs. “Yeah, I was freaking out.”

Well, I knew I was freaking out. I didn’t know he was. “Didn’t wanna wake up married to me?” I ask, shooting him a grin as we step onto the elevator.

It’s the same one I kissed him in a year ago, and I can’t help but smile at the memories. Everything was so confusing and uncertain back then. Not anymore. Now, being with Harlow is as easy as breathing, and it never hurts.

He shakes his head. “It’s not that. I was freaking out because I’d just watched myself kiss you, and I wanted to do it again. Though I fucking wish we could remember how it all went down.”

I’m still fully convinced it was me who suggested it. Harlow thinks it was him. At the end of the day, it doesn’t really matter. We’re married and celebrating our one-year anniversary back in the city where I finally got to make him mine. “I don’t.”

He glances at me as the elevator lurches to a stop on our floor. “No?”