by Whitney G.
“I’m pretty sure that she didn’t.”
“Is that so?” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Is it still going on? Is that still your personal motto?”
“To a certain extent,” he said, pressing his lips against mine. “Since I still like the sound of it, and will only be dating her from here on out, I’ll just replace the word ‘one’ with ‘more’…”
Epilogue
Six Years later…
New York, New York
Andrew
I stood in front of a classroom at New York University—counting down the seconds, asking myself why I’d ever agreed to this.
“Are there any questions?” I looked at my watch.
Several hands flew into the air.
“I’m only answering three of them.” I pointed to a young woman in the front row. “Yes, you. What is it?”
“Um…” She blushed. “Good morning, Professor Hamilton. My name is—”
“I don’t care what your name is. What is your question?”
“Um, it’s been about two weeks since the semester started and you have yet to give us a syllabus…”
I ignored her and pointed to a jock in the back row. “Yes?”
“You also haven’t told us what books we need to buy…”
“Does anyone in this classroom know the definition of the word, question?” I picked the last student, a redhead sitting by the window. “Yes?”
“Is it true that we’re required to take turns bringing you coffee every day?”
I looked at the coffee mug on my desk, at the sign-in sheet that listed which student had brought it today.
“It’s not a requirement,” I said, picking up the cup. “But if you miss your day to bring me my coffee, I’ll make sure everyone in this class regrets it.”
They groaned collectively and shook their heads. A few of them still had their hands raised, but I was officially done for the day.
“Read pages 153 - 260 from the printout by next class. I expect you to know the ins and outs of each case. Class dismissed.” I walked out, saying nothing further.
Slipping into my car, I noticed a new email on my phone.
Subject: Bathroom.
Thank you for sending me that very inappropriate note with my flowers today. Everyone in my cohort now knows that you and I have yet to fuck in our brand new bathroom.
Why are you so ridiculous?
—Aubrey.
Subject: Re: Bathroom.
You’re very welcome for the flowers. I’m hoping that you liked them.
And that wasn’t a “note” that I sent you. It’s a demand that’s about to be addressed within the next few hours.
Why do you deny that you love it?
—Andrew.
I could picture her rolling her eyes at my last message, so I revved up my car and sped back toward our home.
Even though I’d spent the last six years here, I was still building my tolerance for the things I once hated, things that now bothered me less and less, but I still had a long way to go.
Some memories can never be replaced…
Aubrey was completely captivated and entranced by this city, though. Whenever she wasn’t incessantly touring with the ballet company, she was insisting that we try every restaurant, theater, and tourist attraction possible—trying to make me fall in love with everything again.
I parked in front of our brownstone—a newly purchased brick building in Brooklyn, and walked up the steps.
“Aubrey?” I said as I opened the door. “Are you in here?”
“Yes.” She called from a distance. “And I’m not in the bathroom.”
“You will be eventually.” I walked down the hallway, stopping when I saw her hanging another frame in her office.
The walls were covered in pictures of her standing at center stage, a different picture for every night she’d opened a show.
“Do I need to have another room built for you and your photos?” I asked. “You’re running out of space.”
“No, I think this is the last one.”
“Are you still retiring at the end of the month?” I stepped behind her and kissed her neck. “Or have you changed your mind yet?”
“I’m not changing my mind.” She turned around to face me. “I think it’s time for me to focus on something new.”
“Becoming the female version of Mr. Ashcroft when you teach?”
“I won’t be that bad,” she said. “But I do need a break like you said, I think…”
I nodded. I’d been extremely supportive throughout her professional career—traveling with her out of the country to see some of the shows, hiring a personal massage therapist who was at her beck and call, and documenting all of her achievements from the newspapers.
But I’d recently noted a change—a shift, in her attitude: Although she was happy when she went to rehearsals, even happier when telling me about new things the company was trying, she seemed to be more interested in a life outside of the company, so I suggested that she take a short break.
I was still trying to figure out how she’d interpreted my suggested “break” as a “retirement.”
“I loved dancing in Russia.” She smiled, pointing to the picture. “Do you remember that?”
“I do remember that...” I said, continuing my assault of her neck, slipping my hand under her shirt.
She murmured as I rubbed my thumb around her nipple, as I gently bit her skin. But then she stepped away. “I actually need you to go fax my revised contract to the company…I have to let them know officially by five o’clock.”
“After the bathroom.” I clasped her hand. “We have four hours.”
She rolled her eyes, but she gave in, taking my lead into the bathroom.
I turned on the water and pulled her dress over her head. “If you’re hell bent on retiring from performing and simply teaching, we’ll have more time to spend together.”
“More time for you to convince me to leave New York?”
“We really don’t have a reason to stay,” I said, threading my fingers through her hair. “If you’re going to teach, you can commute.”
“And if I don’t teach? If I decide to continue dancing instead?”
“I’ll buy season tickets.” I cupped her face in my hands, raising my eyebrow. “I never asked you to retire, Aubrey…I just think you need a break. You haven’t taken a week off in more than six years…”
“I am going to take a break…”
“Is it going to last longer than two days?”
“A lot longer…”
“Two weeks?”
“It’ll be at least nine months…”
“What?” I backed up, shocked. We’d stopped using protection once we moved in together, but she’d still taken birth control. "What are you saying, Aubrey?"
"I’m saying you’re going to be a father," she said, nearly whispering. “And I think that’s a good enough reason for us to stay…”
I was silent for several seconds, pressing my palm against her flat stomach.
“Are you okay?” she asked. “Is this not something that you wanted? I wanted to tell you this morning, but you were in a rush, so—”
I cut her off with a deep kiss and pulled her close, rubbing my hands against her bare back. “I’m more than okay…” I looked into her eyes. “It is something I wanted…”
She murmured, “I love you,” against my lips and I said it back.
Breathless, she leaned against the shower door. “Can you go fax my letter now? It would really be nice if, for once, I wasn’t late doing something because you have no self-control and were too busy fucking me.”
“I’ll definitely fax your letter…” I drew her lip into my mouth and squeezed her ass. “After the bathroom.”
**End of Episode 3**
Acknowledgments
WHOA. JUST WHOA.
This is probably going to be one of the most unprofessional author notes ever, but if you know me, you shouldn’t be surprise
d. LOL.
Thank you, Tamisha Draper for being there for me throughout my entire career—for pushing me to do my best each and every time, and for reminding me what’s most important. I could never do this without you, and even though I’m sure your husband shakes his head at the forty times my name crosses your phone’s screen a day, I’m happy you ignore him and still pick up. You are the best friend a girl could ever ask for, and I couldn’t be more grateful that you’ve stuck by my side through all the good, the bad, and the utterly insane. I love you.
Tiffany Downs, OMG I’m so happy to have you back again. You are the balance—the perfect balance, and your support, advice, and friendship mean the world to me. Thank you for telling me that my “style” is just “my style” and that it’s okay to be different.
Alice Tribue, OMG. OMG. THANK YOU for being my anchor in the sea of self-publishing. I had no idea that authors could be friends. No. idea. But I’m so happy to have someone like you who understands my version of crazy, someone who’s there for me through thick and thin, and someone who actually thinks I don’t suck. LOL
Keshia Langston, you are the most humble and honest author I know and I can’t tell you how refreshing it is to know someone who just “gets” me, you know? #FLY HARD (Or as you would say…#FLYbitch LOL)
Brooke Cumberland, I’m sure I won’t be winning any “book signing assistant of the year” awards and that I’m like the worst texter ever (Okay…There has to be someone worse than me…has to be LOL), but I want you to know that your friendship is invaluable to me. You are kind, thoughtful, compassionate, and even though you’re crazy (Yes. You are crazy LOL), I wouldn’t trade you for the world.
Laura Dunaway, even from afar, even thousands of miles away, I feel your support and love and I can’t thank you enough for being there with me through it all.
Bobbie Jo Malone Kirby, I’m struggling with the words to write right now because how can I possibly say that I love you more than you’ll ever know? That you believe in me more than I believe in myself, and that you keep me sane through it all? I am so damn happy that you walked into my life last year—still can’t believe how seamlessly everything fell together, and now that you’re here, you’re mine forever and I’m never letting you go.
Natasha Gentile, thank you for being the crazy, nonstop emailing, nonstop *shut up Whitney and finish this book* person that you are. You’re awesome inside and out, and I just might see you in Montreal soon…
Natasha Tomic, I’m utterly speechless at the amount of love and support you’ve shown to me and this series, for the magical strings you managed to pull while you were in NOLA back in May (THANK YOU), and for the heart filled messages you sent me when things were in disarray. I can’t seem to find the proper phrasing that says, “I heart you big, I think you’re incredible, and I’ll never ever forget all you’ve done for me,” so I will leave it at this…and then re-upload this book with the proper phrasing LOL
Nicole Blanchard, thank you for the teasers that saved my book. Literally. You have no idea how critical those were for RD1, and I’m so honored that you stepped in to be my PR/PA during this series when things were getting bigger than I could’ve ever imagined. THANK YOU.
Kimberly Brower, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU for reading this book over and over and helping me smooth out all of the flaws while I was losing my mind. You have no idea how much that means to me! You kept me sane during a very stressful time period, and I will never, ever forget that.
Thank you to all my friends, new and old, that I’ve made so far—Kimberly Kimball (You’re going to kick ass this September, don’t’ worry), Stephanie Locke (I can’t wait to meet you in St Louis, in person), Michelle Kannan (Did you catch your name in this? LOL), Lisa Pantano Kane (Thank you for reading everything, and I’m serious about that beta gig lol), & Lauren Blakely (You are my role model and you seriously inspire me more than you’ll ever know…).
Thank you to every single blogger who promoted the hell out of this series and made it as successful as it became—to list a few, Milasy & Lisa at The Rockstars of Romance, Jenny & Gitte at TotallyBooked, Christine at Shh Mom’s Reading, Nadine Colling at Hook Me Up Book Blog, Michelle Cole at The Blushing Reader Blog, Lori Economos at Sinfully Sexy, Tara and Tracie at Halos and Horns, Alison East at Three Chicks and Their Books, Hetty Rasmussen at BestSellers and BestStellars, Christine Cheff at Unhinged Book Blog, Miranda and Amie at Red Cheeks Reads, Cara Arthur at A Book Whore’s Obsession, and COUNTLESS more! (Okay, now seriously…I *am* a scatter brain, so if I left you out, it wasn’t intentional (I promise!), and since I self-published this, I can definitely add your name/blog and re-upload this book. LOL But seriously, though just tell me…)
Thank you to Evelyn Guy for the final proofing as always.
Thank you A MILLION TIMES OVER to Erik Gevers for stepping in to do the formatting. (Sometimes it’s better to let a professional handle it LOL)
Thank you to my mother, LaFrancine Maria, for being there for me every step of the way, for making sure I keep everything in perspective, and for believing in everything I do. I LOVE YOU.
Last, and NEVER EVER least, THANK YOUUUUU to the best readers ever! You have made this Southern girl’s dreams come true and I owe you everything! Yes, this is the last book for Aubrey & Andrew. Yes, I am known to change my mind but I think this one is sticking LOL. And no, no, no, I will not update their lives on my blog…just kidding. I totally will. I love you more than you’ll ever know, and am grateful to have you aboard the F.L.Y. crew…
F.L.Y. (Fucking Love You)
Whit