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CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

AMELIA

“ W hat do the people of the internet have to say today?” Elliot asks as he saunters into the kitchen, shirtless, plaid pajama pants riding low on his hips and his hair a tousled mess from our pre-dawn fuckfest and post-fuckfest nap.

Fuck, he looks good in the morning.

Leaning over my shoulder, he kisses me, long and slow, before moving to the counter to flick on the coffee pot and grab a mug from the shelf and a Diet Pepsi from the fridge. He pops open the can and pours it, setting it in front of me.

I wrap my fingers around the mug, taking a sip. “You’re my favorite human, Elliot Wyles.”

He grins at me. “Because I poured your morning Pepsi?”

“Because you’re you.” I curl my feet under me and set my phone on the table, smiling at the way he leans casually back against the counter, his feet crossed at the ankles while he waits for his coffee to brew.

The whole scene is so perfectly domestic, and I would be thrilled to start every single morning like this for the rest of my life.

“So, what insanity did your phone bring you this morning?” he asks with a smile.

I huff out a laugh because insanity is right. “Six interview requests, four offers to buy my app for stupid amounts of money, eight job offers, and one email from a publisher asking me if I want to write a tell-all book.”

Elliot screws up his face in thought. “What do they want you to tell all about?”

I shrug. “I have no clue. It doesn’t seem to matter, actually.”

He snorts out a laugh, grabbing another mug and pouring his coffee. “Fame is wild.”

Ten days ago, right after our meeting with the dean, I officially withdrew from the PhD program and outed myself as the creator of Genesis.

All it took was one call from Gabe to a tech blogger he knows and trusts and a forty-five minute phone interview.

Twenty minutes after the blogger posted the story, I was officially famous.

It probably would have been a story for a day or two before some reality star did something ridiculous or a politician got caught saying something dumb on a hot mic and usurped the news cycle, but since Gabe is who he is, the media attention has been kind of relentless.

Sometimes it helps to have a brother who is already famous, because Gabe knew exactly what was coming for me once word got out, and for the first time in my adult life, I was happy to accept his help.

He worked some kind of genius phone magic so any calls and texts I get from numbers not saved in my phone get forwarded to a virtual assistant he keeps on retainer.

His assistant also screens my emails and sends me a digest every morning of anything legit so I can decide what to do with them.

And what I’ve decided to do with them so far is…nothing.

I’m not the least bit interested in interviews, and a book is an extremely hard pass.

I don’t want to sell Genesis, and I’m pretty sure I don’t want to work for anyone but myself either.

I’m extraordinarily fortunate to have the resources to be able to take some time and figure out what I want my professional life to look like, so for the time being, that’s exactly what I’m doing.

I shrug, standing from the table to wrap my arms around Elliot, leaning my head against his chest, right over his heart.

Everything inside of me settles at the feel of his arms coming around me and his spicy scent, his strong and steady heartbeat in my ear, the smell of coffee and the thought of an entire day stretching ahead of us with nothing to do.

“It all kind of feels like it’s happening to someone else, you know?

My life still feels normal. You, me, and mornings like this.

Disaster movie nights downstairs at Jordan and Jo’s and talking about books with the girls and your mom and Cece.

Your brothers barging in at all hours of the day and night, and Cece showing up whenever the spirits move her.

Molly and Gabe sending me pictures of literally everything Soph does and Liv harassing me for details about you.

” I lift my head, propping my chin on Elliot’s chest so I can look up at him. “It’s a really good life, El.”

And it is. It feels crazy to me that in December I was sitting around a Christmas tree in Gabe’s living room feeling entirely unmoored, keeping secrets and not sure of where my place was, or what the future held.

That’s a lifetime away from the secure, settled feeling that washes over me when Elliot leans down and kisses my forehead, grinning down at me.

“Mystery Girl, this life with you is the only life I want. It’s the best life, and it’s only going to get better.”

I press a kiss to his chest. “I’m not sure there is a better than this. This is already the best.”

“That’s what you think. Come with me.”

“Come with you where?”

Elliot winks at me and grabs my hand, pulling me out of the kitchen and down the hall. “You’ll see.”

“Your spare room?” I ask, as he pushes open the door to his second bedroom. Because Elliot is who he is, it’s a lovely room. A big space, with soft green walls, a comfortable looking bed draped in a white duvet, and pretty furniture.

“My spare room,” he repeats, tugging me into the center of the room and standing behind me, wrapping his arms around me. “Otherwise known as your future office.”

“My what?” I ask, turning my head so I can look at him.

“Imagine it with me,” he says into my ear.

The bed and the furniture will go, obviously.

No one has ever slept in here anyway—I just hated the idea of an empty room.

Bookshelves on that wall…” He points to the long wall we’re facing, where the dresser currently sits.

“We’ll paint them purple, and I’ll stock them with all the smutty books your heart desires, with a side of true crime for your freakishly weirdo brain. ”

I laugh, my heart exploding with love for him as he continues to describe a space just like my office in the townhouse.

He turns us, pointing to the opposite wall.

“That’s for your desk. I know you have your monitors sitting on your desk at your house, but I think we should mount them on the wall—that way you can have more of them.

A genius coder needs all the monitors she can get to create her brilliance.

The kitchen is close by, but I’m thinking a mini fridge by the desk, shelves for your snacks so you don’t have to go anywhere when you get into a groove, and the most comfortable chair we can find, obviously.

Somewhere you can curl up and read or dream up your next greatest project.

A space you can use to decide what path you want to take.

What you want your career to look like next.

I can’t wait to see what you do, Mystery Girl, to watch you soar. ”

Emotion tightens my throat as I spin in Elliot’s arms, resting my hands on his chest. “You want to turn your spare bedroom into my office?”

He leans down and kisses my forehead. “I know you have a whole townhouse like ten minutes from here with a perfect office that you designed yourself, and if you want to live there, work in that space, say the word and I’ll pack my stuff right now.

We can move there tonight. I just want to be wherever you are, Mystery Girl, because you’re my favorite human too.

But if you thought maybe you could be happy in a brownstone full of brothers with parents who drop in unexpectedly, a meddling grandma next door, and a dog with a penchant for eating plants, I wanted to give you that, starting with a space for yourself to do every single amazing thing I know you’re going to do. I can’t wait to watch you get started.”

Lacing my fingers behind Elliot’s neck, I pull his mouth to mine in a kiss that tastes like happiness and a promise for the future and so, so much love.

God, the love. It just pours out of me and him and meets right at the spot where our lips touch in an explosion of rightness that takes my breath away. “Yes,” I murmur against his lips.

“To which part?” he asks, trailing his lips over my jaw.

“Yes to absolutely all of it.” I tilt my head to the side to give him better access.

“To the brownstone full of brothers and Jo just downstairs and plants named after famous Bostonians. To the visiting parents and the meddling grandma and walking your dog together late at night and big noisy dinners with your family. To going to sleep with you at night and waking up with you in the morning and this life that we’ve already started to build.

The townhouse was never mine, El. It was Gabe’s and I just lived there.

But this?” I glance around the room and back at him.

“This is so much better than that because this will be ours. This house. This life. It’s the only life I want. The one with you.”

“I love you,” he manages, his eyes glossy as he drops his forehead to mine, tightening his arms around my waist. “I love you so fucking much, Amelia, and this is the only life I want too. It’s a really, really good life.”

I lean up and kiss his forehead. “Bet your ass it is.”

“When can we move your stuff in?”

I consider this and then start laughing.

“What?” he asks, confusion in his voice.

“Well, I’m not sure if you’ve been paying attention, but most of my stuff is already here. I haven’t slept at my house since before we went to Maine. We came back from the trip and had that big dinner here with your whole family to tell them Henry and Clara’s story, and I kind of just never left.”

He studies me thoughtfully. “Shit, have we been living together all this time without realizing it?”

I grin at him, pressing a kiss to my favorite spot on his jaw. “I’m pretty sure we have.”

He shrugs. “Cool. But let’s do it on purpose this time. Move in with me, Amelia. I love you so damn much. Let’s make this our home, together.”

I smile, happiness bubbling up in my chest. “There is literally nothing I want more.”

A slow smile spreads over Elliot’s face as he presses his lips to mine in the sweetest kiss of my life. The one that says future and family and forever. All the things I want more than anything, as long as they’re with him.

We’re interrupted by the sound of the front door flying open and a stampede of feet.

“I hope no one’s naked!” Noah’s voice calls out from the living room.

“If you are, get dressed,” Cooper yells. “Jo brought cinnamon rolls.”

“Sorry, guys,” Jo calls. “I couldn’t stop them, so I figured I would at least bring breakfast.”

“Oh, good, you’re not completely naked.” Jordan grins at us from the bedroom doorway, eyeing Elliot’s shirtless chest pointedly. “Jo Jo got the good cinnamon rolls from the diner, so get your asses out here. I’m starving.”

Pam appears with Rob behind her and slaps Jordan on the shoulder. “What did I tell you about giving them a minute?”

“Like you didn’t barge in right along with the rest of us,” Jordan grumbles.

Pam smiles, hands on her hips. “I raised all of you little shitheads. I reserve the right to barge into any room I want, anytime I want.”

“That’s parenting facts,” Cece says, peering around Pam and looking at us, her face lighting up. “I see an announcement is in order.”

“What kind of announcement?” Noah asks, sauntering into the room.

“That Elliot and Amelia decided to move in together, of course.”

I stare at her. “How did you know that?”

Cece shakes her head. “Oh, honey, I just know what I know.”

Jo squeals and bounces over to me, wrapping her arms around me from behind. “We’re neighbors! Oh, my god, it’s going to be so much fun. Forget monthly book clubs. We need weekly, men-free hangs now that you, me, and Hannah are all living in the same house.”

“I don’t see Hannah anywhere,” Noah grumbles.

Jo waves that away. “She’ll be back. She just had some stuff to take care of in Pittsburgh that took longer than expected.”

Cece pats Noah on the shoulder. “She’s right, sweetheart. Boston isn’t done with Hannah Evans yet.”

“Neither am I,” Noah mumbles, slinking out of the room.

“Eventually we’re going to have to shake him down,” Cooper says from the doorway. “Make him tell us what his deal is with Hannah.”

“He can’t have a deal with her,” Jo says. “She has a boyfriend.”

“For the moment,” Cece says with a smile.

“What does that mean?” Jordan and Jo ask together, and then they look at each other and burst out laughing.

“If you all don’t get in here in the next thirty seconds, I’m leaving and I’m taking all the cinnamon rolls with me,” Noah yells.

“Come on,” Pam says. “Seems like my third son could use some more cheering up. And probably caffeine. He’s an asshole when he works a night shift and doesn’t caffeinate well enough.”

Rob laughs and wraps an arm around Pam’s shoulder, guiding her to the door. “You really shouldn’t call our sons assholes, you know.”

I hear Pam scoff as she walks away, Jo, Jordan, and Cooper following her. “I birthed them. I raised them. I reserve the right to call them assholes when they’re acting like assholes.”

I laugh, and Cece gives us an appraising look, smile playing around her lips. “I always knew it would be the two of you,” she says, before she glides out of the room in a cloud of Chanel No. 5.

Elliot sighs and leans his forehead against mine again. “I guess privacy was too lofty a goal to strive for. Maybe we should reconsider living at your house.”

I snicker, wrapping my arms around his neck in a tight hug. “Never. I love it here.”

Elliot frames my face with his hands, stroking his thumbs over my cheekbones. “I love having you here.”

I lean into his touch, feeling contentment right down to my bones. “I think this is my favorite place, meddling family and all. And once I have the office of my dreams right here in this room? Forget it, I’m never leaving.”

Elliot leans in and kisses me. It’s light and tender and sweet. A kiss between two people who know they have all the time in the world and all of life stretching ahead of them. “That’s my plan, Mystery Girl,” he murmurs against my lips.

We break apart, grinning at each other, and I fucking love him and this room and this day. All of it. Everything. “Cinnamon rolls?” I ask.

Elliot grins and swings an arm around my shoulder, pressing a kiss to my hair. “Cinnamon rolls, Ames.”

And with our arms wrapped around each other, we head out to join the chaos.