Late Love

by Scarlett Hopper

  Her hands cup his face, her round head tilting to the side as she looks him over, pinching parts of his skin. He just takes it, completely mesmerized by her.

  I blink a few times, attempting to rid myself of the tears coating my eyes. If I ever had any doubts of Owen’s permanence in my life, that one word from Rosie squashed them in an instant.

  I snap back into the present, my body warm from the memories of that day. My sight sets upon the two people whom my days end and begin for.

  “It still doesn’t feel real,” he whispers without looking at me.

  I come up to his side, leaning my head against his shoulder as my hand rises to play with her curls.

  “Sometimes I wake up and wonder if this is all just a really good dream,” I admit. I never thought being a mum would be in the cards for me, especially this early in life. Yet now that it’s happened, I find it impossible to imagine any other scenario.

  “I know the feeling.”

  “You changed everything for me, Owen. You revived me.”

  His grip on me tightens. “No, Lottie, you revived me first. You gave me the family I’ve always wanted, and I can’t thank you enough for that.”

  “I don’t need thanks, puppy. I just need you.”

  He bends down, connecting his lips with my own. I don’t hesitate to reach up and link my free hand through his hair before a small hand grabs my face.

  We pull apart, laughing as Rosie eyes us both, clearly upset to be left out.

  “I love you, Charlotte Knight.”

  “Not more than I love you, Owen Bower.”

  Years Later

  Owen

  “Daddy, you can’t catch me!” Rosie screams as she runs past me, the wind seizing her blonde ringlets with each step. The hem of her red tartan dress is covered in mud from our backyard antics all afternoon and we’ve no doubt left footprints on the kitchen tile, but neither of us seems to mind.

  “Be careful!” Lottie calls out from the steps of the garden, Leo on her hip. He eyes his sister, clearly jealous of her ability to run around when his eight-month-old legs have yet to master it. Unlike Rosie, who was blessed with an abundance of curls from birth, he only has a patch of brown fur on his bald little head, but his eyes are a duplicate of hers.

  “I’m okay, Mumma!” Rosie calls back. “I promise!” Grabbing onto the ladder of her tree house that Steve built her last Christmas, she begins her ascent to the top.

  It was only a matter of time for Lottie and me to realize the apartment life wasn’t great for our little girl. After her third birthday we got a place a little outside central London. Although the commute is longer and we don’t see everyone as much as before, it’s worth it because it means we get to have this house, this home. Plus, Stana and Ali seem to be looking for a place around here, their growing family needing more room than their two-bedroom flat can provide.

  “Hey, puppy,” Lottie calls to me. The old nickname occasionally makes a reappearance. It brings me back to where it all started with her. Who would have thought Saint Street would bring so many people together?

  I look to Lottie and raise my shoulder. She rolls her eyes, but I see the grin peeking out. I walk over to her and take Leo from her arms, giving him a big wet kiss on the cheek.

  “How’s my little lad doing today?” I ask. He replies by taking my cheeks in his hands and smushing them together, something Rosie used to do.

  “Everything okay at work?” I ask.

  Lottie lifts a shoulder. “As okay as it can be without me there. But I’m sure Liz can handle it.”

  Around two years ago Lottie bought a local pharmacy ten minutes from our home. It was no small purchase, and a risk for sure, but so far it’s been paying off. She’s never been happier, and I’ve never been prouder.

  Since then, I’ve become a stay-at-home dad, still doing my graphic design, but now it’s more of a side hobby. Life has never been better.

  Lottie snakes her arm around my free side, her body leaning into me.

  “Everyone is going to be here in less than thirty minutes and Rosie looks like she’s been swept up in a hurricane.”

  “At least she’ll be the cutest girl here,” I say, to which Lottie nudges me in the ribs.

  “Don’t let Reeve hear you say that. He might scoop your eyes out with a spoon. As far as he and Em are concerned, that spot goes to Penelope and Mirabelle.”

  “As any parent would think, that spot goes to their child.”

  I laugh, thinking about Reeve with his twin daughters. For a guy who didn’t know if he wanted kids, he sure came around quickly. When those two were born two and a half years ago, you would have sworn he thought the world started and ended with them. As it should be.

  “Are Stana and Ali bringing Billy?”

  Lottie looks over my shoulder and her eyes light up. “Speak of the devil.”

  Lottie

  I slip out of Owen’s embrace and bolt over to my cousin. She looks stunning in her flowing maxi dress with her newly cut dark hair sitting just past her shoulders. Her small belly is slightly rounded, my new niece set to arrive in less than four months.

  Three-year-old Billy bolts from his father’s side, searching for Rosie. Despite their three-year age gap, they’re attached at the hip.

  “It looks like America treated you well,” I say, pulling her in for a hug. I haven’t seen her in nearly two months due to her and Ali galivanting through the States together.

  “I’ve missed you, Lottie,” she says into my hair, and a calmness settles over me at having her back.

  “How’s the baby?” I ask, my hands going to her stomach.

  “Honestly, amazing. Nothing like with Billy where I was sick for what felt like forever.”

  “God, I remember how it was with Rosie and Leo, bloody hell.” I pause, looking around. “Now where did that handsome husband of yours go?” I scan the garden, only to spot him holding Leo while Owen grabs Ali a beer. I suspect it will only be a matter of hours till those two, plus Reeve, pull out the instruments and attempt to relive their time at Saint Street.

  Despite Ali still owning it, their playing has drastically decreased. After we all started having babies, their weekly performances began to slow. Now they’re lucky if they get to play every other month, but that’s life. Growing up is giving up some of the things you enjoy in order to gain the fulfillment of others.

  “Have you heard from Em?” I ask, leading Stana over to put her bag down.

  “Knowing her, she’s gonna be late.”

  “Oh God, I can already imagine Reeve being all ready to go on time and Em still putting on her makeup.”

  Stana’s mouth turns up. “I swear she and Reeve are polar opposites. I see that in Mirabelle and Penelope too.”

  I think of their two raven-haired twins. Mirabelle is her father’s spitting image physically and personality-wise. She’s got a kept-together seriousness about her for her young age, always appearing to be watching while Penelope is an outgoing and outrageous tornado. They give their parents a run for their money, that’s for sure.

  “Can you imagine when they’re teenagers? The trouble those two are going to be…”

  Stana’s shoulders shake, her mind clearly thinking about the future. “I can’t. I’m sure Reeve will have a heart attack the first time one of them brings home a boyfriend. Although they’re only two and a half, I sometimes see him glaring at the small boys on the playground when they get too close.”

  “Lord help us.”

  Giggles are heard around the corner before Em and Reeve round the side of the house, each with a twin on their hip. Em’s strawberry locks are piled atop her head, and Penelope twists in her hold, clearly attempting an escape.

  Mirabelle, on the other hand, rests her head on her daddy’s shoulder, while his other arm is piled with bags.

  “Someone is early,” Stana calls out, walking over to her sister-in-law, myself in tow.

  “It was no easy feat,” Reeve replies, dropping the bags to
the grass, Mirabelle still glued to his side. Pen is already on the ground, running to find Billy and Rosie. Bless her, at less than three years old, she thinks she’s already one of the big kids.

  “You want to go play with the others?” Emilia asks her daughter. Mirabelle snuggles into her dad’s side, shaking her head. My heart melts a little with each action.

  “I’ll take her over,” Reeve says, quickly giving Stana and me a kiss on the cheek each before heading to the others.

  “Now that I’m child free, give me a hug, you two!” Em tries to hug us at the same time, a sort of squished sandwich of an embrace.

  “God, it feels like forever since we’ve all been together,” Em says, pulling away.

  “Only two months,” Stana adds.

  “It feels like longer,” I reply. Life without all of them in it just doesn’t feel like life at all.

  “It’s weird, you know. I’m so used to being around you ladies all the time for the past eight years, it felt so strange leaving for two months. It was even weirder being in America for that long.”

  Since Stana moved to London eight years ago, sure, she’s had the occasional trip back to LA, but never for more than a few weeks. I think with Billy being older and them about to have another, it was the perfect time to show Ali and Billy where Stana was from.

  “Are Steve and Evie coming?” Stana asks.

  “Yeah, they’ve been away for the weekend with Mum and Dad. I think all four of them should arrive this afternoon. Plus Hugo and his girlfriend are coming too.”

  “Wait, the girlfriend?” Em asks, her body jolting forward.

  I nod. “Yep, that one.”

  “Ah, I can’t wait to meet her,” says Stana. “Is Louis coming?”

  I look toward Em.

  “From what Reeve said, I think he’s coming with Hugo.”

  “The gang’s all here.” I smile.

  “Man, it’s so good to be home,” Stana says.

  “It’s good to have you home,” I tell her, linking our hands together. “It’s good to have everyone home.”

  Em’s eyes crease at the sides. “It just isn’t home unless we’re all here.”

  I nod, feeling my throat tighten slightly, my emotions running high. I don’t know if it’s all that’s changed for us over the years—coming together, creating these new families with one another—or just the fact we’re getting older, but I’ve never been more at peace with my life. With where I’m at.

  We head over to the lads, and Owen pulls me into his side as I watch the children play, Leo rolling around on his mat on the floor as Mirabelle looks upon him with a watchful gaze. Billy chases Rosie around while Penelope does a good job of catching up, never being one to be left out of the action.

  It’s this peace right here that means everything to me. All the bullshit we’ve overcome—the ups and downs, fights and tears, breakups and makeups… It’s all led up to this moment.

  To us being right here together as a family.

  Being home.

  Thank you for reading Late Love.

  Start Ali and Stana’s story in SAINT STREET, out now!

  Thank you to everyone who helped Late Love come together. To Nikki, my beta reader and editor, my story would be incomplete without you. My beta reader Emily, thank you for taking your time to give me invaluable feedback. Thank you to Sarah Hansen for a beautiful cover. To Brenda, for a beautiful interior as always! My PA Aurora Hale, thank you for everything you do for me. To all the bloggers and ARC readers who read and promoted Late Love, thank you! And my incredible readers, thank you for continuing to read. The biggest thanks to my team at The Next Step PR, you all guide me every step of the way, I’d be lost without you. A huge thank you to Kiki, who is not only a colleague but also a friend, I don’t know what I was doing before we met! And finally, to my friends and family, thank you for always supporting me.

  Scarlett Hopper was born in Sydney, Australia and moved to Los Angeles when she was 10 years old. She currently lives back in Sydney with her family and their two pugs. When she isn't writing or reading, she spends her time traveling and searching for the best record stores while eating at 24-hour diners. Eventually, Scarlett hopes to begin a new adventure in Edinburgh, and then Seattle.

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  SAINT STREET

  NEVER NOW

  THE ENCOUNTERS SERIES:

  BRIEF ENCOUNTERS

  CHANCE ENCOUNTERS

  MISSED ENCOUNTERS