Who only makes you cry.
Too long I’vewanted no one else but you.
But you see me. I know you see me.
Damn Maxim.Here I thought he’d been writing from his own experience. The asshole was writing about us the whole time.
But I don’t care about that. I don’t care that my dad will find out, or that we might go viral. I don’t care that I don’t know what will happen to the band or me and Lily after tonight. I’ll figure all that out later.
Right now the only thing that matters is me and Lily. This song. This stage. This moment.
We end the song with less than an inch between us. So I cradle her jaw in my palms, tell her I love her, and kiss her. She is my best friend and the love of my life.
Finally, we belong together.
EPILOGUE
Bo—Two Years Later
It’s impossible to keep my hands to myself tonight. Lily smells like heaven and looks like a goddess in a black-and-silver gown that dips low over her spectacular cleavage and fans out over her legs. She’s also got on these sky-high glittery silver heels, and all I can picture is those stilettos scratching my back as I dive under that voluminous skirt to lick her.
Which would be entirely inappropriate right now. I’m sure this limo driver’s seen it all, but we’re pulling up to the red carpet at this very moment.
Bummer timing.
“We’re here!” Lily stares out the window and clasps her hands together. “I know you don’t love award shows, but this won’t be so bad. They announce best music early, and we can slip out afterward and hang with the band. Janelle said she ordered a ton of food, and—”
I close the small gap between us and drop a kiss on the corner of her mouth. I don’t go further. I know how long she spent getting ready for today, and I’m not going to get yelled at by her nice-but-determined stylist for messing up his creations twenty seconds before we step onto a red carpet. Even this little touchgrounds me. Being in love with Lily feels like finding my second half.
“I love you, Bo.” She kisses my cheek gently. “Just let me know when you’re ready to leave.”
An assistant with a clipboard opens the car door. “Welcome to the Oscars,” they sat flatly.
I step out first, buttoning my suit jacket as I stand, then extend a hand to help out Lily. Behind us, the crowd roars and howls. I don’t think we’re going to win for our song, “One Ride or Die,” on the sleeper blockbusterGlorious’s soundtrack, but that’s not the point of coming tonight. I’m here for Lily and the rest of the band. We’ve spent two years of hard work to get to this stage, and they deserve to be celebrated.
Lily slides out of the car, her mass of skirts falling around her hips as she balances on those killer heels. Her blond hair is full Adele curls, and her lips are a kissable red. There’s a tug of something low in my gut. I am the luckiest man in the world.
We stroll down the red carpet, blinded by flashbulbs and waving to the Howl fans in the crowd. It’s impossible to lose my smile when Lily is beside me, both basking in and awed by the attention. I get it. These last two years have been a blur of work and Lily. Mostly Lily. Lily in my house, Lily in my bed. It’s the kind of happiness I never expected to feel.
K changed his name to Kev, and the last thing he did in the public eye was a DUI arrest in Yuma. Supposedly, he’s in a new reality competition pilot for Ain’t Dead Yet Duets. It hasn’t been picked up by any network.
My phone buzzes in my pocket and I chance a look at it as a stylist pulls Lily aside for more photos. It’s a text from my dad. This is another unexpected twist. After that night in Chattanooga, he called as expected. When Lily forced me to listen to the message, though, it turned out he was calling to congratulate me. He promised he wouldn’t try to controlanything, and so far, he hasn’t. I’m always waiting for the other shoe to drop, but since he’s been on very good behavior—he even reached to apologize to my mom— I’ve been tentatively opening the door to a relationship with him.
Lily and I get cornered for interviews on our walk down the red carpet, and she deftly fields questions about our upcoming world tour as well as the modeling she’s been asked to do. Some call it plus-size modeling; I say they’re lucky to have her. She’s as smart as she is gorgeous, and when she left law school for Howl full-time, it was her choice and on her own terms. Her parents fly out to almost every show.
I keep her hand in mine and we enter the theater, nodding and smiling at people who nod and smile at us. Another assistant with a tablet shows us to our seats, and we settle in. Lily squeals and grabs my arm.
“It’s Julianna Margulies!” she whisper-shouts, pointing discreetly at the actress.
“We’ll go talk to her after the show.” I use the opportunity to kiss her ear lobe, and she beams. This woman.
“You two look nauseatingly cute,” Maxim says, plopping into the seat next to mine. He’s wearing a classic black tuxedo with leather and steel bracelets at his wrists. “What are the odds we’re actually going to win this thing?”
“My parents said my hometown is taking bets,” Lily says. She pulls a compact and lipstick from her purse and starts to re-apply. I could watch her do that for hours. It’s one of those little intimacies I hadn’t realized I was missing out on, but I love it. “We’re fifteen to one.”
Maxim groans and leans his head back into the seat. “I have no idea what that means, but it doesn’t sound good.”
She shrugs and stows the compact back in her purse. “It’s not bad. Where are Dan and Janelle?”