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BONUS EPILOGUE

Ella

I FIND Blake on the mezzanine floor of London’s SoHo House creeping around like some sort of cat burglar. I shouldn’t be surprised that he’s hiding at his own book release party considering he fought Marion tooth and nail on having it in the first place. But here we are at the exclusive venue, surrounded by celebrities and journalists decked out in Gucci and Balmain. They’re all eager to get their hands on a signed copy of Blake’s book, but giving my boyfriend a Sharpie isn’t in their best interest. He’s more likely to stab them in the eye with it than sign a book. In his words, “ Isn’t the fact that they have a whole bloody book about me enough? They want my signature now, too?”

The sound of clinking champagne glasses, laughter, and animated conversations mask the sound of my arrival, so I take a moment to drink Blake in. He looks drop-dead-gorgeous in his fitted black pants—that hug his ass like a well-worn baseball glove—and a charcoal dress shirt with the top few buttons undone. He’s tanned to perfection thanks to the impromptu trip we took to Fiji last week. Yep. That’s the kind of thing I can do now that I’m dating Blake and working for myself.

Making my way toward the man of the hour, I slip my arms around his waist, hugging him from behind. His tense muscles relax under my touch, and he settles his hands over where mine rest on his abs.

“Hey, love,” he greets me in that rumbling British accent I can’t get enough of.

“Hi.” I press a brief kiss against his back, knowing there’s no risk of lipstick getting on him since that wore off about fifty hellos ago. “You do know the party’s down there, right? And that you can’t use the excuse you were looking for the bath-room since there’s one on the first floor?”

He turns around in my arms with a smirk on his face. “Exactly why I’m up here.”

“Well, it wasn’t very nice to leave me all alone down there. Especially because my brother accidentally introduced Finn to the word fuckwad and your sister isn’t pleased.”

“I figured it wouldn’t take you long to come and find me.” He tucks a stray piece of hair behind my ear. “And I’d hardly call it all alone. Our families plus two hundred other people are down there. Intimate my arse.”

I bite back a smile at his grumbling. Now is definitely not the time to tell him that he looks absolutely adorable when he gets all grumpy. “Considering Marion wanted this party to be about triple the size, I’d call this intimate.”

He hmphs before eyeing the crowd like they’re zombies out for blood a week into an apocalypse. I could live without the paparazzi and press maneuvering through the crowd taking photos, but other than that, the party’s been great. The canapés being passed around by the waitstaff are delicious and the live jazz band even has my dad—who has two left feet—dancing.

“There’s no reason to be nervous,” I remind Blake, running my hands up his chest. “They’re here to celebrate you, babe. And if anyone asks you a question you don’t want to answer, just tell them to read the book and find out. Easy.”

The corners of his lips twitch up. “They should be here to celebrate you . You’re the one who wrote the damn thing. All I did was answer your questions.”

“All you did was answer my questions?” I throw my head back and laugh at how casually he says it. “Blake Andrew Hollis. It took me weeks just to get you to answer a single one of my damn questions.”

He leans down and presses his forehead against mine. “I was worth the wait though, right?”

“Yeah, yeah. You were.”

He tucks me against his chest, holding me as he observes the crowd with discerning eyes. Even though Marion’s probably having heart palpitations not knowing where either of us are, I don’t push Blake to head back downstairs right away. He’s been anxious about the book launch all week, and if he needs to hang out here for a bit to take a deep breath, then so be it.

Blake breaks the silence by saying, “Theo’s finally here.”

I peer down and spot the blue-eyed Aussie slapping some soccer player on the back in greeting. “Surprised he didn’t hire a herald with trumpets to announce his arrival,” I tease.

Blake chuckles. “He’s probably trying to play it cool, calm, and collected for Josie.”

“You really think he’s going to pursue her?”

Blake lifts an eyebrow. “Josie’s finally single for the first time in forever. He’s one hundred percent going for it.”

“Hmm,” I muse. “Well, if there’s one person who can get him to settle down, it’s definitely her.”

“You got me to settle down.” Blake chuckles. “And some may argue that’s harder than winning a Grand Prix.”

I tilt my head up and mold my lips against his. The butterflies in my stomach do the cha-cha-slide just like they did the first time we kissed and every time since then.

What starts as a quick kiss spirals into a need as Blake’s tongue tangles with mine. He tastes like home and feels like safety, so I sink into the feel of him. My hands slide into the hair on the nape of his neck and I scratch my nails against his scalp in a way that drives him crazy. He replies with a deep moan before directing us away from the banister overlooking the party and toward a darkened alcove behind us.

“Blake,” I laugh breathlessly. “We can’t stay up here much longer. People are probably wondering where we are.”

His lips ghost over mine. “You’re forgetting something.”

“What’s that?”

“I don’t care about people. I care about you.”

And with that, the conversation is over, and his lips are back on mine. His touch is firm as he sandwiches me between his body and the wall, placing a large hand on the back of my spine. His fingers feel cold against my skin, which is exposed thanks to the open-back style of dress I’m wearing. “Fuck, I want you so badly right now, El.”

I swallow a whimper that’s fighting desperately to slip out. It’d be a lie if I said I didn’t want him just as much and he knows it. Smirking at my lack of response, he languorously licks up the column of my neck.

“Fuck,” I swear, resting my head against the wall.

“Oh, we’ll be doing a lot of that later, baby.”

I roll my eyes and start to admonish his very correct assumption when footsteps clap like thunder on the marble staircase to our left. I readjust my dress and hair to try and look like I wasn’t making out with my boyfriend in a corner instead of being a guest of honor at this very fancy party.

“There you two are!” Marion’s voice travels a short distance to us. “Blake, Jessica from The Sunday Times just got here and wants to say hello. And then there’s the—”

Blake groans into the crook of my neck as Marion chatters at rapid-fire-speed about the who’s who of the party and what photo ops he has to do. As if on command, the tension in his muscles coil up again.

“You’ll be fine,” I reassure him, softly enough so only he can hear. “I’ll stay by your side the whole time.”

“Pinky promise?”

I kiss him with a smile on my face. “Always.”