Page 119 of The Road Less Traveled By

After I regain my composure, I dispose of the condom and return with a warm towel so I can clean Bree up. She came all over my sheets, but I can’t find it in me to care.

That was the best sex of my life—not just because it was good sex, but because it was with Bree. Sex with her feels so much different than all the meaningless flings I had while on the road for my job, and I know it’s because I was meant to be here with her all along.

I clean Bree up, and she’s fast asleep as I carry her to the shower. We smell like sex, and I know Bree would hate to wake up tomorrow nakedand unclean. The girl hates going to sleep without showering, and she might hate me when I wake her up, but she’ll thank me tomorrow.

“Baby? Wake up. We’re gonna shower, okay?”

She only grumbles in response. “I can’t feel my fucking legs.”

“Then I did my job. How are you feeling?” I ask her as I place her on my counter.

“I feel fantastic. How do you feel?”

“The same. I hope you know that your pussy is mine now.” I lean into her, pressing a kiss beneath her ear. “And your ass too. That’s fucking mine.”

She shivers where she sits on the counter, and her eyes lock with mine, heat still blaring in her gaze.Is she still turned on?“I’m yours, Vince. I told you that from the start.”

“Good, baby. Now, let me fuck you in the shower.”

“It’s like you read my mind.” She smiles before I carry her into the shower. The two of us spend all night getting lost in one another's bodies before we eventually fall asleep, tangled up in one another like we were always meant to.

Chapter thirty-six

— WOULD’VE, COULD’VE, SHOULD’VE BY TAYLOR SWIFT

I’m counting down theminutes until I can leave this show.

Don’t get me wrong, I adore fashion, but all I can think about is going home with Vince, watching a movie, and cuddling on the couch.

I’ve officially become someone who would rather stay in with my boyfriend than be working on a Saturday night. Plus, it’s September; Tristan’s birthday is coming up, and I don't have a clue what to get him.

What do you get a guy who has everything he already wants?

The designer comes out, signaling the end of the show, and everyone stands, applauding her work. I did see a couple pieces I have my eye on, and this show felt more like art than it did clothes.

I lock eyes with Vince, his gaze already on me as I tilt my head toward the exit. His hand goes to his ear, probably letting Emerson, Chris, and Duncan know we’re leaving as soon as this is over. There’s some sort of exhibition dinner after the runway, but Connie told me all I had to do was make an appearance tonight. I haven't been going to many events, and since this was one close to home—about an hour away—Connie said a small appearance would work.

Since the break-up hit the internet, people haven't seen me, so the speculations were crazy. Some people thought I cut my hair and changedmy whole look, some said I was heartbroken, some thought I had moved on a few times since.

And those people weren't wrong. Vince and I have moved on quite a few times since Alex has been out of the picture, and all of it has been on my terms.

I stand up from my front-row seat and saunter over to him.

“Ready?” he asks as his hand slides to my back.

I smile at him. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Vince steps in front of me, and I feel Emerson and Chris flank me from behind. Duncan is most likely outside with the cars, and I’m counting down the steps until I’m safely inside.

Ralph hasn't said a single word lately. No notes, no texts, nothing. And although Vince has been trying to distract me for weeks, my mind still races every time I leave the house.

As we leave, a few people try to stop us for interviews, and I can hear people whispering about me and Alex, even though they think they’re being quiet. I sigh heavily before Vince stops and throws his arm out behind me.

“Is something wrong?” I ask, but before he can answer, I spot a familiar face up ahead, her gaze locked on me.

Ellie.

Her heels click over to where I stand, Vince’s body still covering mine, but I tap his arm, signaling for him to move out of the way.

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