My heart overflowed with joy and hope for the two of them. I had faith they’d find their way back to each other.
“Hey, aren’t you gonna call Oliver to make sure he was watching?” he asked, giving me a curious look. “I figured that’d be the first thing you wanted to do when you got inside.”
Nodding, I lifted up on my tiptoes and kissed the dimple on his chin. “I’m about to go do that, but I just wanted to tell you how proud I am of you and how much I love you. Just because we’re not married or don’t live together doesn’t mean I won’t be here for you.”
He grinned. “To the very end?”
“To the very end.”
As I bounced up the stairs to my bedroom, eager to call Oliver and find out how quickly he could get to me or I could get to him, I heard the front door open and shut, followed by a chorus of voices I assumed to be Barry, Allison, and possibly Seth. Even though I wanted to talk to all of them about what happened, Oliver was my first priority.
Slipping into my room, I grabbed my phone off my dresser, hurriedly found his name in my contacts, and connected the call. I paced the floor next to my bed as it rang and rang, but it eventually went to his voicemail. Irritated, I waited about thirty seconds then tried again. Same result.
How was he not waiting on my call? He knew the first thing I’d do once the press conference was over would be to call him, especially with what it meant for the two of us. But he still didn’t answer.
Nearly ten minutes and twelve unanswered calls later, I was on the brink of tears. I didn’t understand why he wasn’t picking up, and with each passing minute he didn’t call back, a pocket of self-doubt began to form inside of me.
A knock on the door startled me, and though I didn’t want to be rude, I needed a few more minutes alone. “I’ll be downstairs in just a little bit,” I called out, hoping whoever it was would take the hint.
I picked up my phone to try him one last time before giving up for a while, but before I made the call, the person knocked again.
“Just a minute! I’m on a phone call and I’ll be out shortly!” I yelled as I pressed Oliver’s name on the screen with my shaky finger.
This time, when I heard the phone ring, it sounded like an echo effect. Like it was ringing inside my phone and outside of my door at the same time.
Confused, I rushed over to the door and threw it open, not knowing exactly what—or who—I expected to be there. But when my eyes landed on Oliver and all that dark, messy hair that I loved to pull, standing there holding a brown grocery sack, I gaped at him incredulously.
“What . . . how . . . when did you get here?” I finally managed to get one of my questions out.
His mouth curled up in a wicked grin. “I never left, Rizzo. I just couldn’t, not when I knew you might need me,” he replied.
“B-but you said you were at your parents,” I contended.
“I know, and I’m sorry I lied.” His smile disappeared. “I promise you right now that I won’t ever do it again. I felt like such crap afterward, even though I knew I was doing it for you.”
“So how did you know to be here? And what’s in the bag?”
“Colin called me last night and told me what he was going to do today so he asked me to be here for you,” he answered matter-of-factly. “If you’ll invite me in, I’ll be happy to let you look inside, and if you’re lucky, I might even let you kiss me too.”
Laughing, I shook my head, still in utter disbelief he was there, and motioned for him to come inside my room where he sat down on my bed and waited for me. I hopped up on the mattress next to him, giddy to the point of ridiculousness, and began to go through what he brought.
“Peanut Butter Captain Crunch,” I announced as I removed the orange box from the sack then continued to do the same for the rest of the stuff. “Chocolate milk. Popcorn. Grease DVD. And what’s this?” I questioned, pulling a shiny metal key out of the very bottom and holding it up between us.
His amber eyes sparkled when I peered over at him expectantly. “It’s a key.”
“Yeah, I got that, Einstein,” I joked nervously, wondering if I was reading too much into the object. “A key for what?”
“For the apartment I signed a year lease on first thing this morning.”
My heart slammed against my chest as butterflies fluttered in my belly. “You’re staying in Boston?”
Shaking his head, Oliver scooped me up and pulled me into his lap, crushing my lips with his in a kiss that left me little doubt to what his answer was. When we finally broke apart for air, he rubbed the end of his nose against mine and murmured, “And you got it wrong, silly girl. I’m not staying in Boston . . . we are.”
“in the end,
when our eyelids
find their
infinite darkness,
you will know
that our bodies
were tiny
universes,
and that I
loved you
with a thousand
seas.”
–Christopher Poindexter
Seven Months Later
Monroe
“HAVE I MENTIONED how much I hate wearing heels?” I complained, peering down at my feet inside the pretty, sparkly blue torture devices that matched my evening gown.
Oliver, who looked downright delectable in his tux, chuckled as he stepped into the closet behind me and circled his arms around my waist, open-mouth kissing the side of my neck. “Only every time you put them on, Peaches.”
Rolling my eyes at the absurd nickname, I twisted around in his embrace so I could see his handsome face and straighten his bow tie. “Next year, let’s have this thing at the zoo or something, where we can wear shorts and tennis shoes.”
“The zoo?” he asked, trying to keep a straight face. “Because nothing says ‘Please donate money’ quite like hairy, stinky elephant ass or monkeys flinging their shit at you. Maybe if we’re really lucky, it’ll be mating season for the giraffes, and we can all see what a four-foot erection looks like in action.”
I swatted at his arm and shook my head. “Is that all you took away from that show the other night? The size of their penis?” I asked, referring to Babies of the Serengeti- Giraffes, an Animal Planet special we’d watched in bed a few nights before. Well, I had been watching the show, while Oliver played some game on his tablet. He hadn’t been too impressed with the part about the males tasting the females’ urine to determine if they were ovulating, so he’d tuned it out . . . or so I thought.
Humor danced in his eyes as he nodded. “Baby, a man hears the words four-foot penis and he takes note. That’s some serious competition.”
“Well, maybe you should’ve also taken note on the part where they said that up to 94% of giraffe sexual encounters are between two males,” I mused, tapping the end of his nose with my finger. “So chances are, if you ever got to see one of those four-footers in action, you’d probably get to see two at the same time. I texted Colin and told him he should come back as a giraffe in his next life, but he told me he wasn’t a fan of sleeping while standing.”
He threw his head back with laughter then grabbed my shoulders and steered me out of the closet and into our bedroom. “As fascinating as I find this conversation about giraffes’ genitalia and their progressive sexual behaviors, I’m nixing the zoo idea now. And if you don’t stop talking about next year’s gala, we’re never gonna make it to this year’s,” he playfully slapped my ass, “so grab your purse, beautiful, and let’s go. The driver just texted and he’s downstairs.”
I did a final check of my makeup and hair in the mirror before snatching my beaded clutch off the dresser, making sure I had everything I needed in it. “Okay, I’m ready,” I announced with a smirk, “but for the record, I’m not giving up on the zoo thing. I think it has real potential.”
Oliver grinned but said nothing. Holding out his arm toward me, I slipped my hand in his and allowed him to lead me out of our apartment and down to where a car aw
aited to take us to the Second Annual New England Mending Hearts Gala. During the short elevator ride to the first floor, I silently went over my speech in my head for at least the hundredth time that day. Even though I had grown accustomed to talking in front of groups of people over the previous year, it still made me a little nervous to have all those eyes trained directly on me. I’d mostly gotten over the fact that the vast majority of the world had seen me topless, and I rarely thought about it any longer on a day-to-day basis, but there were still times—particularly when speaking at a large event such as this one—when the self-doubt and insecurities would creep up and wrap themselves around my throat, cutting off my air supply.
“Come on, Slowpoke McGoke,” Oliver prodded, gently tugging on my hand as we stepped off the elevator and into the lobby. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”
“A surprise?” I parroted excitedly as fell in step next to him, forgetting about the building nerves in my stomach. “What kind of surprise?”
Ignoring my questions, he smiled roguishly while ushering me into the glass revolving door that led outside. As soon as my heels met the sidewalk in front of our building, I froze, slack-jawed and wide-eyed, staring in disbelief at the car parked at the curb directly in front of me.
“Oh, my God,” I whispered, my vision blurring with the happy tears I couldn’t stop. “How in the world . . .”
“You like it?” Pulling me toward the street, he beamed with pride as we approached the iconic vehicle. “It’s the real Greased Lightning they used in the movie. Colin helped me locate it and get everything worked out, but I thought since this is the first anniversary of Rizzo and Sandy D. meeting, we should celebrate in style.”
Unable to contain the overwhelming happiness bubbling up inside me, I threw my arms around his neck and peppered kisses all over his face. “You are the craziest, quirkiest, sweetest person I have ever met, and I thank God every day that you’re mine. I love you so much, Ollie!” I exclaimed.
Laughter rumbled deep in his chest as he lifted me off the ground and twirled me in the air. “I love you too, beautiful girl. But it’s still a no to the zoo.”
Oliver
The top floor of the Sixty State Street building was even more impressive than I’d remembered it from the year before. Crystal chandeliers, white twinkling lights, and the floor-to-ceiling wall of windows created the perfect ambiance for the perfect night with the perfect woman by my side. The car surprise had gone over better than I expected, as she didn’t mention the wind from the convertible messing her hair up once on the drive over, and I only hoped the rest of my plan would follow suit.
“Hey, man, you ready for this?” Colin asked under his breath, sidling up next to me as I sat back and watched Monroe and Allison greet the guests.
Taking a sip of my cocktail, I nodded and glanced over at him. “As ready as I’ll ever be. Is she here?”
“She’s here, and everything’s all set up,” he assured me with a pat on the back. “Once you’re in place, Seth will draw Monroe away from the party, saying he needs to speak to her privately about Effie’s trial, and bring her to you.”
I cringed, but didn’t argue. Effie’s trial wasn’t something I liked to think about, especially not on a night that was supposed to be so positive, but I was happy that Monroe had agreed to press charges against the psychotic woman. Unfortunately, after the press conference where Colin had come clean to the world about his sexuality, Effie hadn’t taken it so well and ended up taking out her frustrations with a golf club on the inside of the Mending Hearts house, which she still had a key to. When she had finished her handiwork, there wasn’t a piece of furniture left intact or a wall that didn’t have a hole in it. Over two months of work we’d put into setting the home up was demolished in less than two hours, but thankfully, when the word got out about what happened, volunteers from all over the area had shown up and pitched in to get the house cleaned up and refurnished just in time for Heather, Alex, and Aaron to move in on March first.
“Sounds good. As soon as she finishes her speech, I’ll head that way and get ready,” I told him, pushing aside the bad memory.
“Perfect.”
An hour and a half later, I was outside on the rooftop deck, hiding in the shadows up against the building, when I heard Monroe and Seth’s voices approaching. They walked out to the center of the small space, presumably talking about the trial, and on cue, Seth’s phone rang and he excused himself to answer it, leaving her alone under the pale moonlight. Not wasting any time, fearful she might venture back inside and not wait for him, I made my move.
With my saxophone in hand, I began to play the opening chords of “When A Man Loves A Woman” as I strolled out toward her, reveling in the surprised expression on her face when she spun around and saw me. I continued playing as I approached her, and like the goofball she was, she began dancing around me wearing the biggest smile I’d ever seen. My heart was pounding so hard, so loud, that I honestly feared my chest my split right open.
The song came to an end and she stilled, her expectant gaze locked on me as she waited to see what I was going to do next. Carefully lying the instrument down next to me, I reached inside my pocket and fished out the small black velvet box then dropped to a knee in front of her, beaming up at her breathtaking face.
“Monroe, I know your divorce has only been final a little over a week, but I didn’t want to take any chances that some other yahoo might flash his jazz hands in your direction tonight and steal you away before I could put a ring on it,” I teased. “I’ve pulled out the stops tonight—the over-the-top car, the tuxedo, and even a little Michael Bolton in case you were on the fence about me. So I’m begging you, please do me the honor of making me the happiest man in the universe by saying you’ll marry me.”
Dropping to her knees next to me, fancy dress and all, she cupped my jaw in her petite hands and brushed her thumbs over my beard. “Only if you promise me that you’ll never shave this off again or cut your hair short,” she choked out through her tears.
“Promise!” I exclaimed as I engulfed her in my arms and claimed her mouth with mine.
The sound of someone clapping broke through our kiss and startled her, causing her to pull back to see who it was. I kept my eyes on Monroe’s face as I watched her expression morph from confusion, to skepticism, to all-out exhilaration. Jumping up to her feet, she took off running in her heels to the young girl who was doing the same. The same young girl who was holding her court-signed papers that granted Mending Hearts’ full custody of her, effective immediately.
JoJo was finally all Monroe’s.
And Monroe was finally all mine.
ERIN NOELLE IS a Texas native, where she lives with her husband and two young daughters. While earning her degree in History, she rediscovered her love for reading that was first instilled by her grandmother when she was a young child. A lover of happily-ever-afters, both historical and current, Erin is an avid reader of all romance novels.
Most nights you can find her cuddled up in bed with her husband, her Kindle in hand and a sporting event of some sorts on television.
Contact Erin
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BOOK BOYFRIEND SERIES
Metamorphosis (Book Boyfriend Series 1)
Ambrosia (Book Boyfriend Series 2)
Euphoria (Book Boyfriend Series 3)
Timeless (Book Boyfriend Series 4)
Book Boyfriend Series Boxed Set
LUMINOUS SERIES
Translucent (Luminous Book 1)
Transparent (Luminous Book 2)
DUSK TIL DAWN SERIES
When the Sun Goes Down (Dusk Til Dawn Book 1)
As the Dawn Breaks (Dusk Til Dawn Book 2)
A FIRE ON THE MOUNTAIN SERIES
Spark (A Fire on the Mountain Series 1)
Flame (A Fire on the Mountain Series 2)
STANDALONES
Surviving Us
MILF: Wrong Kind of Love
The Perfect Life
CO-WRITTEN
Conspire
EACH OF THE books that I write is like one of my children and these people are the village that helps me raise them. Thank you all so much for everything you do and all of your support.
My kick-ass family
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Stacy Kestwick ~ my incredible CP and bestie
Chelle Northcutt ~ for your amazing insight and talking me off the ledge repeatedly
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My betas ~ for keeping me on track and entertained with your shenanigans
Jammy Jean Lovers ~ ‘Cause y’all are just fucking awesome
Kayla Robichaux ~ My awesome editor and Twinnie. I owe you big time.
Jenn Van Wyk ~ I still don’t know how we did it, but thank you so much!
Jessica Prince ~ I’m the worst work-wife ever and yet, you still love me.
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Readers ~ I have the most fantastic readers imaginable. You’re the main reason I continue doing this! Love you all!
Giraffes ~ because . . . four-foot penises
Erin Noelle, The Perfect Life
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