Page 73 of The Final Draft

I’m thinking about what my dad said when Chance escorts Harper to me at the bar. “I’m wiped. It’s like I’m playing in a double-overtime game.” He loosens his tie and guzzles a glass of water.

“You hockey players need more yoga and cardio. Ask Zac. He’s feeling the difference,” she teases him.

She settles into my side and fits perfectly. Yep, she’s my missing puzzle piece. Or missing peace? Maybe my dad is right.I’m content with Harper by my side. Content. I let that word sit with me. This peaceful, slower pace is definitely something I could get used to.

“The newlyweds are leaving soon, and then we need to head out too,” I tell Harper. “We’ve got a flight to catch tomorrow.”

“Headed back to New York?” Chance asks.

“No. Italy. We’ve got a cooking class to attend.” Cole isn’t the only one who can pull off a grand gesture.

“What?” And there it is. Her surprised expression that I’ll continue to chase, no matter how content I am.

CHAPTER

FORTY-SEVEN

HARPER

After a whirlwind week of amazing people, places, and things, I’m back in New York with nothing but my imagination to keep me company. Zac’s games are on the west coast for the next few days, and Julian is in California on a work trip. I considered going to Raleigh to see Lawson, but the Renegades are doing the Canada sweep. Everyone is away from home.

So it’s just me and Noodle. My laundry is done. The apartment is clean. My Christmas shopping is underway. I’ve practiced several meals we prepared in Italy, ready to serve them at our next hockey dinner. I’ve even binged the latest season ofBridgerton. Now what?

I had my last meeting with Professor Daniels today, and because of Julian’s work travel, he had to reschedule his check-in. The meeting was encouraging, although his feedback was critical and fair. I’ve taken it and grown as an author. He thought the ending could be reworked, but the editor thought it was appropriate for Charlotte and Gavin. The book is getting a finalproofreading and then a rush to print by the new year, maybe even before Christmas.

Forget the tight deadlines and brutal feedback. Falling in love took my storytelling to the next level. Julian’s love has changed me personally and professionally. And I still haven’t told him how much I love him.

I considered saying it while we were in Italy. Everything about that trip was amazing. We stayed in a charming villa overlooking the ocean, and every day we got a cooking lesson from a private chef. And in between meals, we biked through vineyards, wandered through museums or shopped in the local market. Four days was not enough time, but we had to get back to reality and obligations. He promised me a return trip soon. Without me telling him I love him.

Why didn’t I tell him? I don’t want it to be reactive. I want it to be just because. When we’re spending a Tuesday at home watching TV and eating popcorn. Normal life. That’s what I want him to know. I love him in the boring and mundane parts of life. But the problem is nothing with Julian is boring and he doesn’t know how to have an uneventful Tuesday. I don’t want him to think I love him because of his incredibly romantic gestures. I love him because of who he is as a man. At the next opportunity of mundane, I’ll tell him.

We haven’t talked much these past few days. The time difference makes it difficult, and he’s dealing with some crisis with a basketball player in LA. He sends the sweetest texts that I see when I wake up.

Noodle and I are settling in for the evening with a new puzzle and a pint of Ben and Jerry’s when I get an unexpected call.

“Hey gorgeous, what are you up to?”

“Just telling Noodle how much I miss you.”

“Miss you too. Are you home right now? Kat is dropping off your dinner. Should be downstairs in a few minutes.”

“You really don’t have to do that. I bet she enjoys her downtime when you’re gone.” Apparently, he pays her a generous salary to be at his beck and call, and she doesn’t seem to mind, but I hate to be a burden.

“She was out anyway,” he says casually. “Hey, Ashleigh’s calling. Let me see what she needs. I’ll call you later. Enjoy dinner. Love you.”

And like that, he’s gone. Downstairs I discover a Chick-Fil-A bag, a bouquet of peonies, and a newly released book by one of my favorite authors. It’s not fancy or expensive. No, Julian’s romantic gestures cover the entire spectrum from outrageous to simple and thoughtful. I don’t know if Julian knows how to do boring and mundane.

He told me to listen to my heart. And my heart shouts we belong together. I hug the flowers to my chest to calm my butterflies. Yeah, next time I see him, I’ll tell him, no matter what.

CHAPTER

FORTY-EIGHT

JULIAN

Hearing Harper’s voice raises my spirits and makes my shit day bearable.

“Hey Ash, what’s up?”

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