What If You & Me

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What If You & Me Page 28

by Roni Loren


  He’d searched for answers for so long, but maybe the answers didn’t matter. The past couldn’t be changed. The future couldn’t be controlled or guaranteed. All he could do was deal with what was going on now—here, in the present. What did he want his life to look like now?

  When he was with Andi, he was happy. And she seemed happy with him.

  Maybe it was that simple.

  Hill was broken from his train of thought when Eliza sat down next to him. She’d arrived at the station a little while ago, after Andi had called her to tell her what happened. She handed him a Snickers bar from the vending machine.

  He took it even though he wasn’t hungry. “Thanks.”

  “Do you think she’s going to be in there much longer?” Eliza asked, opening a package of Reese’s Cups. “I’m afraid when the adrenaline wears off, the reality of what happened tonight is going to settle in for her and she’s going to need us.”

  Hill frowned. “I don’t know how much longer it will be, but Christina’s in there with her. She’ll watch out for her and let me know if Andi needs anything.”

  “Christina the ex?” she asked. “That might be awkward.”

  “I don’t think so. We’re on good terms now, and she already met Andi a while back. She’s the one who helped figure out that Andi had been doxed. I wouldn’t have gone to the house when I did if Chris hadn’t told me what happened.” He leaned back and sighed. “I don’t want to think about what would’ve happened if Andi had been forced to bang on neighbors’ doors for help. If the guy had caught up with her…”

  “God, me neither,” Eliza said. “Though I suspect she would’ve figured something out. She’s a warrior, that one.”

  He glanced over at Eliza. “One hundred percent.”

  Eliza looked down at her chocolate, a little smile touching her lips. “That’s why you two make a good pair,” she said casually. “From the outside, it seems a weird match. You, the quiet, stoic type. Andi, the quirky, bubbly one. But underneath that, you’ve both experienced real trauma. The kind of stuff that distills life down to its most vital parts.” She peeked over at him. “You both know how to cut through the bullshit.”

  “The bullshit?”

  “Yeah.” She peeled off the brown wrapper on one of the peanut butter cups. “Everyone says life’s too short, but the two of you know it. Because you’ve each had to contemplate that yours was about to end. That matures a person real fast.”

  Hill stared at her, processing the words.

  She smirked and took a bite of her candy. “Andi’s like an eighty-year-old woman with a nose ring.”

  He chuckled. “I don’t know about that.”

  Eliza swallowed the bite, and her expression went serious. “I do. And my unofficial advice to you—because I know something happened tonight at the dance to send Andi home early—is don’t insult her by underestimating her. Andi is whimsical, but she doesn’t do anything or feel anything on a whim. She’s an overthinker. Every choice she makes is made with thought and purpose. Including the choice she made to spend time with you.”

  Hill released a breath, the words resonating. He had insulted Andi. He’d told her she didn’t know what she didn’t know. When the truth was, he was the one who didn’t know shit about relationships. He’d never had one last. “I told her I was falling for her and then broke things off.”

  Eliza’s brows arched. “Wow. That’s a dick move, bro.”

  “I’m aware,” he said grimly. “I thought I was doing it for her own good.”

  She snorted. “Oh, that’s our favorite thing. When men do things for our own good. Super fun. I’m sure Andi loved that.”

  He groaned and tossed the candy bar onto the seat next to him. “I screwed everything up.”

  Eliza laughed and patted his knee. “Oh, honey, that’s obvious. If you don’t do something about it, she’s definitely going to murder you in a book.”

  He gave her a droll look. “You must be a really encouraging therapist.”

  “I’m the best,” she said, popping the second half of her peanut butter cup in her mouth and clearly not taking offense.

  “Hold up. There is candy and no one brought me any?”

  Hill’s attention snapped to the left to find Andi standing there with her hands on her hips. He reached out for the Snickers bar and handed it to her. “Courtesy of Eliza.”

  Andi took the candy bar and smiled. “Thanks.”

  Eliza was on her feet and headed to Andi, wrapping her in a hug before Andi could open the candy. “Oh my God, hey.”

  Andi kept her eyes on Hill as she hugged Eliza back. “Hey, girl. Thanks for coming.”

  Eliza leaned back, tears in her eyes, her gaze scanning her friend. “Are you okay? For real, for real?”

  Andi nodded and reached out to squeeze Eliza’s hand. “I’m okay. I’m going to have to do some creative hairstyling for a little while to cover my newly acquired bald patch, but other than that and a few scrapes, I’m good.”

  Hill watched them. Eliza checking her friend over. Andi reassuring her and smiling like she hadn’t just been through an assault. He could see every little scrape, every war wound, even though someone had helped her clean up a little. He wanted to soothe each spot, take her in his arms, make her feel safe.

  Safe.

  A feeling was filling him, slow and steady, making everything swell inside his chest. He’d told Andi he didn’t want to be her safe choice, but now he realized how wrong he’d been looking at it. Feeling safe with someone was part of what made love love.

  He wanted to be that person she could be with without worry, the person she could let all her guards down and be herself with. She had become that person for him. She got him talking when he was prone to quiet. She made him laugh when his depression tried to smother him. She was the one who had gotten him cooking again, giving him back something that had always made him happy. She saw him and loved him, and tonight, she’d shown that she wasn’t going to let him off the hook so easily. The tools he’d used to push other people away since his accident—and maybe for his whole life—weren’t going to work on her.

  She was going to be his final girl.

  The thought rang through him as loud as church bells.

  There was knowing you felt things about a person. But this was more than that. This was…confidence. Confidence in the future. Confidence in himself. Something he hadn’t tasted in a long time. He had a lot of work to do still, but he was going to do it.

  Andi was a warrior.

  Well, so was he.

  He stood so quickly that he knocked the chair back against the wall. Andi and Eliza turned to him, both with questioning looks on their faces.

  “Hill?” Andi asked. “Everything okay?”

  He had no idea what his expression must be saying. He probably looked like a lunatic. There were too many feelings and words trying to come out at once. “I’m in love with you.”

  Andi stared, and Eliza grinned, taking a step back and giving them space.

  “I know this isn’t the right place or probably the right time,” he rambled on, phones ringing in the background, police officers walking by. He stepped closer and took her hands in his. “And I know I’ve screwed this all up. I know I said all the wrong things earlier. I got scared. I’m still scared—fucking terrified, actually.”

  Andi’s expression softened.

  “But I’ve been sitting here and looking at you and thinking about the last couple of months… And I know it’s quick and I know I have a lot to work on but…I don’t want you to go off and look for other guys. I don’t want to be practice. I want to be the guy. I am the guy.”

  Andi blinked, her eyes glittering with tears. “Yeah?”

  He let out a breath, getting the words out feeling like an exorcism. “Yeah.”

  She squeezed his hands. “I already knew
that you were. I just wasn’t sure you were ever going to figure it out.” She put her hands on his jaw, her teary gaze holding his. “I love you too, you hardheaded man. I’m glad you finally got a clue.”

  He laughed softly and then dipped his head, touching his forehead to hers. “You’ve completely ruined my life plan to be a grumpy hermit. I would’ve been so good at it.”

  “Sorry not sorry,” Andi said, a smile in her voice. “You ruined my plan to be an eccentric horror writer who lives alone in a creepy mansion.”

  “You’ll always be eccentric, neighbor.”

  “Thank God.” She lifted her head, meeting his gaze and letting her hands lower to his shoulders. “So are we doing this?”

  He cupped her jaw and brushed his thumb over her lips. “Yes. How about every day for the rest of our lives?”

  Tears spilled over, her smile like sunshine. “Deal.”

  Light suffused through him, brightening all the dark corners that had gathered inside him over the years. This one. This one. This one.

  “I’m going to kiss you now,” he warned. “I don’t care who’s watching.”

  “I’m going to let you.”

  With that, he lowered his head and kissed her, finally knowing it wouldn’t be the last. This was only the beginning.

  In their movie, there would always be another sequel.

  Epilogue

  One year later

  “To Andi and her sick, demented mind!” Eliza announced, raising her glass of champagne.

  Andi laughed as Hollyn, Jasper, and Ramsey raised their glasses. Hill set the tray of sliders he’d carried out to the back porch onto the table and grabbed a glass. “May Doxed continue to climb the bestseller list and keep people the world over from getting a good night’s sleep.”

  Andi grinned and raised her glass, clinking it to each of her friends’ and then Hill’s. “Thanks, y’all. I’ll drink to reader insomnia.”

  Hill set his glass aside and put together a plate of food, getting a few of each of the finger foods he’d made for the party celebrating Andi’s new book’s success, and then handed the goodies to her.

  “Thanks, babe,” she said, setting her drink on the side table. “This all looks great.”

  “It does,” Hollyn agreed as she chose items for her own plate. “This whole spread is gorgeous. Totally Instagram worthy.”

  “Right?” Eliza agreed. “Maybe Hill should do this for a living, huh?”

  “What a brilliant idea,” Ramsey said, piling mini-hamburgers onto his plate. “You should give that some thought, Dawson. I think a good friend of yours suggested that a long time ago. What was his name? He was the really smart and good-looking one?”

  “Humble too.” Hill smirked as he took the spot next to Andi on the pretty blue outdoor couch they’d bought for their new place and draped his arm across the back of it. “I hope it all tastes as good as it looks. I’m using y’all as guinea pigs for some recipe testing for the cookbook.”

  “Always happy to be of service,” Jasper said, sharing a towering plate with Hollyn. “To be a guinea pig or just a pig in general.”

  Eliza grabbed one of the shot glasses Hill had filled with his version of gazpacho and plopped down cross-legged in one of the chairs. She took a sip and hummed her approval. “Yum. If everything tastes as good as this soup, I volunteer as tribute for recipe testing, too.”

  “Same,” Ramsey said, taking down a slider in one bite. “Hey, Eliza, can I be your recipe-testing date?”

  Eliza gave him the side-eye. “Stop trying to date me, fireman. I don’t want to fight about who gets custody of the children”—she waved her hand to indicate Andi and Hill—“when we divorce.”

  Ramsey chuckled, this interplay with Eliza a common one these last few months as Hill’s and Andi’s friends came together. “Who’s saying we wouldn’t make it?”

  Eliza rolled her eyes.

  “So,” Jasper said, clearly trying to save Ramsey from a conversation that would only continue to spiral, “when’s the cookbook due?”

  Hill took a gulp of his champagne. “We have about four months. The publisher only wants to use a few recipes from the blog so that it’s mostly brand-new content, but they want me to keep the same kind of recipes that I do on the blog and in the videos. You know, keep it simple for new cooks, single people, busy couples, that kind of thing. Plus, Andi will be adding the movie recommendations.”

  Andi was smiling so hard as Hill talked that she was sure she probably looked deranged or drunk, but she never got tired of seeing her guy explain his new projects. The man lit up when he talked about cooking and food. She’d noticed it pretty quickly when they’d first started seeing each other, but since he’d decided to give a cooking blog a real try, she’d watched him transform. First, when the blog had started to gain some traction, then when he’d agreed to do some cooking lessons with her on video. In their videos, they’d feature a meal and a movie that matched the theme and dubbed the segments Netflix & Hill as a play on Netflix and chill.

  The segments had turned out to be the tipping point. An editor had started following the vlog and then contacted Hill to see if he’d be interested in doing a cookbook with Hill providing the recipes and Andi matching movies to them.

  “So does this mean lots of movie marathons?” Hollyn asked between sips of gazpacho.

  “Yep,” Andi declared. “And you ladies are always invited. I promise it won’t be only horror.” She bumped her shoulder into Hill’s. “I’ve grown to appreciate a good romance these days, too.”

  Hill kissed the crown of her head, right over the spot where the hair had been yanked out by Jacob Alberts. Luckily, her hair had grown back with no permanent damage beyond her scalp sometimes tingling. And though her psyche would always have the mark of that attack along with what had happened to her as a teen, she’d gotten back into therapy and felt more in control of her anxiety these days than she’d ever been. Plus, she’d used the incident as fuel, which had helped her healing process tremendously. She’d poured all her anxiety, anger, and frustration into her book Doxed, and the joke was on Jacob. While he was sitting in jail, her book was on the bestseller list.

  Fuck him.

  Hollyn gave Andi a knowing smile and then sent Eliza a look. “Look at that. We’ve turned her into a romantic after all.”

  “Hush your mouth, Hollyn Deares,” Andi said, tossing an olive at her. “You say that too loud, and you’re going to ruin my reputation.”

  “It’ll be our little secret. And don’t worry, we’ll still allow you to have the occasional movie where everyone dies at the end,” Eliza said magnanimously.

  “Except the final girl,” Hollyn added.

  “Thank you.” Andi raised her glass. “To final girls.”

  Hill gave her a squeeze when everyone repeated “To final girls.”

  He leaned close to her ear. “To my final girl.”

  Warmth moved through her, and she turned to brush her lips against his. “To my final guy.”

  The words came out so easily because she knew them to be true. They’d been together for over a year, and not once had she doubted what she’d declared the night of her attack. She loved him. He loved her. They were meant to be together.

  That hadn’t meant there hadn’t been work to be done. Both of them had issues they were working through in therapy. Andi still looked over her shoulder at night. She was still suspicious of strangers. Hill had to be vigilant to keep his depression from surfacing again, and he still had flashbacks to the fire if he heard certain sounds. But the difference was that they were a team now. They didn’t have to fight those battles alone.

  Love meant someone had your back. Love meant you didn’t have to hide what you were struggling with. Love taught you that sometimes it was okay not to be okay.

  But more often than not lately, Andi was so much more than o
kay. She was happy. Full-throated, screaming-into-the-sky happy. She’d worked really hard to get there, and she wasn’t going to take one second of it for granted.

  Andi settled in and enjoyed the evening with her friends, laughing a lot, drinking a little, and eating too much of Hill’s bread pudding. But when the sky went full dark, her friends started the dance of It’s getting late, we better get going. They gathered their things and headed out as if they’d mutually agreed on an exit time. After exchanging hugs with everyone and sending them all home with containers of leftovers, Andi shut the front door, locked it, and turned on the alarm. The sound of it activating was a comfort to her even in this quiet neighborhood. She spun around, leaned back against the door, and sighed.

  Hill was standing in the middle of their living room, watching her with a look of affection that made her want to clutch her hands to her chest like an overdramatic actress.

  “What’s that sigh for?” he asked.

  “Tonight was great. I love my friends.”

  “They’re awesome.”

  “And I love you,” she said, taking in the view of him—dark hair mussed from the breeze outside, T-shirt clinging just enough to give her dirty thoughts.

  “I love you back,” he said as he took a few steps closer. “In fact, you’re my favorite. Like, in the world.”

  She closed her eyes and took in the sweet words, contentment winding through her like a drug. “Did you mean what you said about me being your final girl?”

  He took her hands, and she opened her eyes, finding him right in front of her. “I did. Well, woman, not girl.” His lips kicked up at one corner in a suggestive smile. “You’re definitely all woman.”

 

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