Page 64 of Dirty Lyrics
Her lips are curved in amusement, her eyes sparkling.
“Mine too,” she adds, tipping her head toward Balor, who’s standing at the edge of the crowd with his mismatched eyes scanning the yard like he’s ready to take out anyone who so much as breathes wrong.
I snort, clapping a hand over my mouth, and Lucy grins.
“They’re ridiculous, aren’t they?” she says, sipping her drink. “All that brooding, all that ‘I’ll set the world on fire for you, baby’ intensity. I mean, who’s gonna try to do something crazy here?”
“Totally ridiculous,” I agree, my chest warm with laughter. “And we eat it up like candy.”
Her laugh is low and knowing. “Exactly.”
We stand shoulder to shoulder for a moment, watching our husbands—Rico practically vibrating with restless energy, Balor a silent storm.
And instead of embarrassment, pride blooms in my chest.
“They’re a lot,” Lucy admits, shaking her head, “but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
She is stunningly beautiful, and frankly, it would’ve devastated me at any other time to draw comparisons between us.
But not now. Not when we are both so blissfully in love with our own men.
“Same,” I confess, smiling so hard my cheeks ache. “I think they’d lose their minds if they ever tried to be normal.”
“Oh, they’d die,” Lucy says, eyes twinkling. “And honestly? I’d miss it. All that obsession, all that devotion—it’s exhausting sometimes, but it’s also just beautiful.”
“Yeah,” I whisper, my hand drifting to my belly. “It really is.”
We share a look then, two women who know exactly what it feels like to be adored beyond reason, to be claimed in ways that make you laugh and swoon in the same breath.
“Well, we better go sit by them before they implode,” she jokes, but I see her shiver as she crosses to where Balor stands.
And when the lights dim and the big screen flickers to life, introducing Ella es de él,
I feel Rico’s gaze lock on me across the yard.
And I know—this song, this night, this future—it’s ours.
I walk over to him, and I slide my hand in his and his black eyes glitter.
He lifts our joined hands and kisses my wrists, tugging me to the row of chairs where ours sit, reserved just for us.
“You ready, Songbird?”
“I’m ready.”
And I am. Ready to take this next step. Ready to show the whole world what we can do.
With Rico by my side, I know there’s nothing we can’t accomplish, and I’m champing at the bit to see what’s next.
epilogue 1-rico
Five months later. January,
Maya’s belly is round, swollen, and fuck—she’s never looked more beautiful in her life.
Nine months pregnant, glowing like she swallowed the sun, and still managing to boss me around with that sass I can’t get enough of.
There’s a foot of snow outside, Montclair blanketed in white from the latest blizzard.
