Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 86573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Like the girl that I am, I cover my mouth, and tears continue to fall from my eyes. He sets the box on the table and takes my hands into his, never moving his eyes from mine.
“Peyton, I’m so goddamn sorry for what I said, for not trusting you when I know I should have. You mean everything to me, and not because of all the incredible work you’ve done for me, but because you’re so beautifully intelligent and witty and make me so fucking happy. I can’t imagine another day without you by my side.” He kisses my hand and says, “Will you forgive me and please move in with me?”
Unable to hold back my excitement or keep him waiting, I nod my head and chuckle as he pulls me into his chest and hugs me until I feel like I’m about to break.
Sighing into my neck, he kisses my cheek and then whispers, “I love you so fucking much, Peyton. I’m sorry I hurt you.”
Out of my mind with joy, I hug him even tighter and then pull away. I point my finger at him and say, “Don’t do it again. I don’t forgive easily.”
He chuckles, the sound no longer foreign to my ears. “Never.”
Gripping his cheeks, I bring his lips to mine where I place a soft, gentle kiss on them and say, “I love you, Rome, and I can’t wait to share a home with you, but . . .”
“But?” He cocks a brow at me.
“But we’re not living in that concrete jungle of an apartment you have.”
Smiling brightly, he says, “Don’t worry, I got the apartment two floors down. Fresh and new for the both of us.”
“You’re such a good man.”
“Good for you.”
He captures his mouth with mine and even though we’re in the middle of a coffee house most likely making a scene, I don’t care. He was known as a sadist and an egomaniac, and a tyrant, but I knew deep down, he was a soulful gentleman with an alpha tendency that was going to bring me to my knees.
And guess what? He’s all MINE.
When he pulls away, he sighs and rests his head against mine. “God, I love you.”
“I love you too.” Twisting my lips to the side in a smile, I add, “And by the way, I can’t live another day without your hugs and ‘quiches.’ Clever, Rome. Very clever.”
He shyly shrugs. “Who knew Pinterest could help win your girl back?”
Epilogue
HUNTER
I can’t even look at those two. They’re so disgusting.
My two friends; the one I’ve had for half my life, and the other because, well—he fell in love with her, and she’s fucking cool. I couldn’t help but become her friend.
She’s irresistible, and I fell for her too, only I don’t get to bang her.
Rome does, the lucky bastard.
On the outside, Peyton looks like the girl-next-door, and I wouldn’t have pulled her from a lineup if I were trying to find a date for him. Brunette when he preferred blondes. Petite when he’d preferred tall.
She’s the opposite of everything he thought he wanted.
Not that he thought he wanted anyone, the fickle bastard.
Then she had to go and say she wanted to bang him . . .
Cheeky little shit.
“Why are you just standing there? You look weird.” Peyton’s sweet but insistent voice interrupts my musing.
“I look weird?”
“Yeah, you look lost in space—and if you’re not careful, you’re going to drop that dresser right on your foot.” She taps hers impatiently.
“And if you do, don’t think for one goddamn second you’re claiming that injury on my homeowner’s insurance.” Rome gives me a bump with the other end of the heavy, mahogany dresser that’s going in their new bedroom.
We’re in their new apartment—just two floors below the one where Rome was living before—and Peyton has us doing the heavy lifting.
“Give me some credit, asshole.” I heft the heavy wood, blowing out a little puff of air. “Where are we putting this? I’m about to bust a nut.”
Peyton laughs, pointing to the large wall adjacent to their king-size bed. “Right there would be good; center it against the wall.” Her hands make a more that way . . . to the right . . . just a little motion, then she gives me the universal sign for stop. “Perfect.”
Hey. I’m all for the bastard moving in with the love of his freaking life, but how the hell did I get roped into moving all their shit on my only weekend off?
He owes me.
I hate this bullshit; I’d rather pay some college kid a hundred bucks to come heft this crap in my place.
Man—sometimes it sucks being such a good friend.
Rome leans his ass against the dresser, crossing his ankles and arms. Studies me. “What are you doing tonight?”
It’s Saturday.
“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll go out. Get a drink or three.”