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“Never.” He kisses me again, softer this time. “I’m done running from the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
I kiss him back, knowing that this time, there’s nothing fake about any of it. And as I pull him inside, his hands alreadysliding beneath my shirt, I know this is just the beginning of our real love story.
Epilogue
SIX MONTHS LATER
Nate
Somehow, against all odds, we make it work.
I don’t know why either of us ever thought it would be impossible. Sure, our schedules are crazy, our lives always moving at full speed, but being together? It’s easier than we ever expected. Lacey’s my refuge, my safe place, no matter where in the world we are. But nothing beats coming home to our private oceanfront house, especially when Lacey greets me wearing nothing but one of my old t-shirts.
It’s surreal sometimes, how perfectly everything fell into place once we stopped fighting it. When Lacey and Rebecca Morrison announced their partnership and the launch of MM Productionsright here in Jacksonville, the media had a field day. It only added to the drama when the press found out I was the one fronting them the startup capital. But watching Lacey take control of her career, seeing her eyes light up as she talks about their latest projects—I’d invest everything I have in that smile.
While I don’t pretend to know much about the production side of show business, I know it’s something that lets Lacey take control of her own career in a way Hollywood never did. She still acts—her schedule is packed with upcoming TV shows and even a possible talk show—but now, she gets to choose the projects she believes in—the ones that allow us to spend time together.
Our lives are still hectic. Between my commitments to the Wild Band and her filming schedule, there are weeks where our connection is maintained through shared screens and late-night calls. Those reunions, though, are worth every second apart. There’s nothing quite like the moment she walks through our door after being away, when we can barely make it to the bedroom before...well, let’s just say we’ve gotten very good at making up for lost time.
And that’s the real difference—before, we were living on borrowed time, waiting for the inevitable ending. Now, there’s no expiration date. Just us—forever.
I watch from the doorway as she paces our living room, phone pressed to her ear, gesturing animatedly as she discusses their latest show with Rebecca. Even now, she makes my breath catch—the graceful way she moves and the fierce passion in her voice.
“Yes, I’ll review the script tonight,” Lacey says, catching my eye and smiling. She ends the call and crosses the room, pressing herself against me in a way that makes my heart speed up. “Morning, drummer boy.”
I hand her the morning coffee in her pink princess mug and watch as she curls her fingers around it, bringing it to her lips with a warm smile.
“Morning, superstar.” I can’t help the pride in my voice as I pull her closer, my hands finding their way under her tantalizing t-shirt. Her film, The Oasis, has earned her a first Oscar nomination, and watching her light up when she got the news made my heart stop. The ceremony is six weeks away, while the Grammys are in two weeks. The scheduling is tight, but there’s no way either of us would miss these moments—Lacey’s just as determined to see me accept that Grammy as I am to watch her walk the red carpet. Some things are non-negotiable.
“Your mother called earlier,” Lacey says, her fingers tracing patterns on my chest that make it hard to focus. “She and Richard are arriving this weekend. She’s looking forward to meeting my family. I tried to prepare her.”
“I wouldn’t even try to warn her.” I laugh as I pull her in for a kiss that quickly deepens. “I don’t know if Richard plays chess.”
Lacey snorts. “That won’t stop my father.” She stretches deliberately, and my old t-shirt that she’s wearing rides up even further. “Don’t you have rehearsal?”
“Not until two. We’re working on some new songs.” The guys and I sound better than ever. Our latest single hit number one last week, and our tour dates are selling out faster than ever.
“The song about me?” She grins, teasing.
“They’re all about you.” It’s true. Every love song, every ballad—I think of her during every one. My hands slide down her sides, remembering how impossible it was to keep from touching her even when it was all pretend. Now that I can touch her whenever I want, the craving has only gotten stronger.
Her phone rings again—probably Rebecca with more production details, or Emily with another press opportunity. But neither of us rush to check it. We’ve learned to carve out these moments, to make time for what matters. Sometimes, that means Lacey Zooms into production meetings from my tour bus, or I fly cross-country for twenty-four hours just to sleep in our bed—with her. It’s not always easy, but it’s always worth it.
“I can’t believe how much has changed in six months,” she muses, playing with her engagement ring. “Remember how all this started?”
“Best fake engagement ever.” I pull her closer, breathing in her familiar scent. “Though I prefer the real thing.”
“Me too.” She kisses me deeply. “Still glad you asked me to marry you?”
I glance down at her, pretending to consider it, then relent. “You’re stuck with me, Lace.”
Her gaze softens at my answer, and I kiss her—slow, deep, a promise of everything still to come.
We’re interrupted by her sister’s text. We both laugh, used to it by now. This crazy, beautiful life we’re building—it’s better than any script or song.
Who knows what the future holds? More tours, more films, more adventures together. But one thing’s certain—whatever comes next, it’ll be amazing and real.
We’ve found our rhythm in the midst of all the chaos—a melody that plays on, a story that continues to unfold.
And you know the best part about real love stories? They never end.
The End.