Page 102 of Darlin'

"Two women remain. Please take center stage, Alabama and Iowa." Connie and I shuffle to the middle of the platform, bright lights illuminating our faces. I hate it. I can't see into the crowd anymore. "One of you is only a moment away from being awarded the crown. If for any reason, the winner can't perform her duties, the first runner-up will take her place." Connie squeezes my hand so tight my fingers feel like they'll burst open. “This year’s Miss USA is…Iowa!" Connie dang near blows my eardrums out as she screams and darts to the front of the stage. Holy moly, girl! "Congratulations Iowa! Please take your first walk as Miss USA!"

Cheers burst from the audience, and confetti pours from the ceiling as all fifty contestants converge around Connie as she's crowned the new Miss USA. Although I want to celebrate her win, I want something else a little bit more.

I wait as long as possible, counting down the seconds when I know the cameras are no longer rolling. As soon as I see the host lower his microphone and loosen his bowtie, I leap off the stage, ignoring every single person trying to get my attention as I elbow my way through hordes of people, looking for one. The one. The only one that matters at this moment.

All the lights and chaos and noise and people disappear the moment I set my eyes on him. With anticipation, nerves, giddiness, and adrenaline pumping through my veins, I'm surprised that when I stop in front of Jesse and the rest of The Sons, I'm unable to say a damn word.

He lowers the sign and stares at me. Not Savannah, the beauty queen. But me. The real me. And boy, is it terrifying. Terrifying and wonderful and so goddamn freeing.

"I didn't win," I finally say, swallowing away a ball of nervousness as he stands a foot away from me, his chest rising and falling, pieces of confetti stuck in his groomed beard. "I...lost."

"Not true," Jesse says, taking a purposeful step forward. He hesitates for a second before cupping mycheek, his thumb tenderly stroking my hairline. "You've always been a queen."

"Really?" I lean into his warm touch, my body melting with peace. "I thought I was a princess?"

Jesse smirks, wrapping his other hand around my waist as he gazes longingly into my eyes. "Maybe it's time for a promotion?"

"I don't know..." I shrug coyly, unable to stop grinning. "I kind of prefer princess."

"Kiss already!" Ellie groans, and we turn our heads to Pippa's five-year-old.

"El!" Pippa scolds, slapping her hand over her child's mouth. "Ignore her?—"

Before I can get a word out, Jesse grabs my chin and slams his lips against mine with rough urgency. His tongue darts inside my mouth as my arms snake around his neck. His moans enter my lungs and join my own as we exchange sweet, reunited breaths.

"I'm sorry I left without saying goodbye," I whisper as we pull away, still tangled in each other's arms. "I shouldn't have?—"

"Shh," he hushes me, sweeping his thumb across my lips. "It doesn't matter, princess." He arches over, whispering in my ear, "I told you I wasn't gonna let you go."

A shiver tingles my spine. "But you stopped calling me."

"Because you asked," he says, gaze flitting across my face. "Figured you needed some time." He cocks his head. "Can I assume that time's up?"

I grin up at him. "What do you think?"

"I think that we should get out of here." He looksaround at the dispersing crowd. "What do you say? Up for a ride?"

"I'm wearing a dress," I note, lifting a playful brow.

Jesse smirks. "Not for long."

"I have a better idea," I say, lacing my fingers through his as I drag him away from the boys and Pippa, tossing 'em all a wily wink.

"Where are we going?" he asks as I lead him through the ballroom toward the lobby of the hotel.

"Upstairs.” I give him a suggestive smile. "Every queen deserves a coronation, right?"

Jesse smirks. "Maybe even two?"

"Queens only get coronated once?—"

"Savannah!" Oh, you've got to be kidding me! I speed up, hoping to outrun the walking Ken doll, but the sucker is fast despite his ridiculously tight suit. "Savannah! Wait up!"

"Shoot!" I grumble as James stops us outside the elevator doors. Dreading the interaction, I kindly address him, "Can I help you?"

James frowns, his prissy gaze darting between Jesse and me and then to our clasped hands. "Where are you going?"

"Why does it matter?—"

---