“The agent of my downfall,” we whispered together.
My nemesis wasted no time in getting us off the floor and up to my bedroom. By the time the door latched, my cardigan was on the bench, and his shirttails fluttered over his open trousers.
“I brought you to your knees,” I teased in his ear, then grinned at his chuckle.
“I brought you to yours. I like the idea of both of us on our knees. Imagine the possibilities.”
His fingers threaded in my hair, lips finding mine. I couldn’t hold in the whimper as parts of me that had been dark too long lit up.
Will smiled his easy smile before he nibbled my lip. His hands coasted over my shoulders and curved under my breasts. Thumbs swished, and I went limp.
“Shh, let me give you what you need,” he soothed when my shaky hands tugged on his shirt.
I needed slow and gentle. I craved his touch fiercely, but he knew without my saying that we should take it easy. Luckily, Will Langer can do slow just as well as he does rough.
Pleasure had made me dizzy and dreamy when he laid me back on the bed and peeled off my tank top. My hazy eyes opened when his shoulders tensed under my palms. He gazed down at the deep bruise which still stood out starkly on my abdomen.
“Hey,” I whispered. “Look at me.”
“I want to protect you, Liv. I’m so—”
But I pushed his shoulders and flipped us over. Straddling his lap, I threw my bra to the floor. “Would you rather waste your breath on silly apologies or have hot makeup sex?”
That brought him back. He sat up under me and flicked his tongue across my nipples, and I threw my head back and groaned.
“Good fucking choice.”
My orgasm was like finding heaven. Pure bliss washed away any shadow of doubt about us and smoothed all the rough edges of these ugly weeks. They were over.
And we had just begun.
39
Epilogue: Liv
We fell asleep on top of my quilt, woke in the middle of the night, and made love again. I always thought that term was corny, making love, but it fit much better than sex or fucking. When we were spent again, we rolled into the sheets and clung to each other until morning.
A gray, late-fall sun filtered into my room when I finally woke, completely wrapped in Will. His arms and legs were around me, my back to his chest, his breath warm on my bare shoulder.
“Happy Thanksgiving,” he said with a kiss to my ear.
I snuggled deeper into his arms. “Mmm, you’re so warm.”
“And you’re so soft.”
I pinched his wrist. “I am not. Badass CrossFit body right here. I’m tough as nails.”
He laughed, and I flipped to face him. “Fine, tough as nails and skin like satin. Better?”
“Better.”
“You were pretty docile last night, though,” he teased.
“Just you wait. I’ll be raiding your ties again in no time. Consider that a warning to behave yourself at dinner today, FYI.”
“Oh, you’re in for it now.” He laughed.
We dozed and petted each other in easy silence. Somewhere between asleep and awake, I mumbled, “My parents know about us. How weird.”
“Indeed.”
“What did you say to Mom? She didn’t really tell me.”
He yawned and groaned, one arm over his eyes. “That was easily one of the most awkward moments of my life. Well, it would’ve been if I had given a damn about anything other than you.”
“Tell me the story.” I put my head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat.
“Things were crazy and tense when they first came in. I was with Megan and Adam, waiting like everyone else. After several hours, your friends went home when it was clear you were being admitted. Tom and your dad went for coffee, and your mom looked over at me. She asked if I’d come with Tom. I didn’t answer, but she hugged me, and I guess she just knew. Her eyes got big, brows up, all that. She said something like, ‘Oh. You’re not here for Tom.’ And I said, ‘No, Claire, I’m here for Liv.’”
“What did she say then?”
He laughed. “She said, ‘Just say it so we can move on.’ So, I told her I was in love with you—and I was flattened with guilt over this. She smiled, folded me into a forever kind of hug, and whispered, ‘It’s about time you two saw it.’”
I didn’t need to hear any more. I jerked his boxers down his hips and climbed on top of him. My hair brushed his jaw as I bent for a kiss.
“I love you.”
God, it was so easy to say. Why had I ever thought otherwise? Especially when I got his broadest, most perfect grin every time the words left my mouth.
Eventually, we got up, showered, and went to make breakfast. I refilled the coffee and found a good playlist, then began the potatoes and brownies I’d promised to bring for dinner. Will sat at the kitchen table and watched until I made him peel spuds while I did the batter.
“Aren’t we cute?” I teased, bumping his hip.
“Precious.”
“Aren’t you glad you’re here instead of all alone today?”
He smiled at his hands. “Yeah, pretty glad.”
We fell silent and let the music fill the room while we worked. Once the brownies were in the oven and the potatoes were whipped, I wandered to the living room to watch TV, and Will disappeared.
He came into the room and leaned on the top of the recliner, gazing at me while I lounged on the sofa. “I’ve been thinking. I don’t want to be alone anymore.”
I smiled and wiggled my feet. “I’m right here, silly.”
“Well, exactly. You’re here, which means I have to miss you and wonder when you’ll be free next. I’d like to know your thoughts on this.”
He reached into his pocket and tossed me something. I lifted a hand to intercept before it beaned me in the forehead. It was a key ring with a little pyramid on it, a single key on the loop. I looked at it, then up to him.
Will sat on the couch, so I tucked my legs and sat up. “Move in with me. I was serious the first time I said it. I’m more serious now.”
I yelped. “You’re crazy. We’ll—we’ll—we’ll never get out of bed. We’ll annoy the hell out of each other. We’ll… drink coffee on Sundays. We’ll make dinner together and talk about our workdays. We’ll not share a toothbrush.”
My eyes got wide. “You’re insane.”
“We established that long ago. But I’d be a damn fool not to want all I can get with you. Come on, Liv, what do you think?”
I spun the little pyramid between my fingers. That Girl didn’t move in with guys. She only stayed the night after a month had passed. More rules from the book.
But That Girl wasn’t me anymore. I’d been through too much, changed too much. I still had whims, still liked my bourbon straight, and would never, ever shy from being myself.
But I’d become someone new.
This girl, Liv, I, looked up at the man I loved and smiled. Just before we tumbled to the couch in a kiss, I shrugged and bopped his nose.
“I could be into that.”
Coming Soon: Megan’s Story
“I’ve been in a funk lately,” I admitted, getting concerned stares from Liv and Will. “I think I need to get out of Nashville.”
Liv’s eyes were saucers. “Shut your damn mouth.”
“I know, but I don’t care about work, I’m not feeling the bars, and I’m itching to do something totally different. I need a reinvention. A new chapter.”
“Will you come back?” she whispered.
“Can’t really say. But that won’t mean anything. Soul mates for life don’t care about mileage.”
She flashed a smile, but I knew it wasn’t what she wanted to hear. Will covered her hand with his and squeezed her fingers.
For a moment I wished I had someone to squeeze my fingers too. But then again, maybe not. Maybe I didn’t need anyone to hold my hand anymore.
Acknowledgments
Sarah, Lily, Jess, and Lauren, you
r feedback was invaluable as I rounded out Liv and brought Nemesis into the world. Avery, as ever, your artistry on the cover is incredible.
Lindsey, thank you for the feedback, for Scotland, and for the 20-year start of a forever friendship. Most of all, thanks for being my person. I love you, soul sister.
Brian, you were an amazing resource on Will’s character. Will is the right kind of stylish (fancy) thanks to you. Here’s to glass blowing, inflection points, and the Madness.
Readers, you are making this series grow! So thank you for your support, your reviews, and for being your perfect, Anti-Belle selves!
About the Author
Skye McDonald is the author of the Anti-Belle series, contemporary romance novels set in her hometown of Nashville, Tennessee. She is also a podcaster, an English teacher, a fitness instructor, and a life coach. Skye’s Anti-Belle series are standalone books featuring sassy GRITS (Girls Raised In the South) learning to love themselves before they can claim their happily ever after. (Spoiler: they always do!) Her classes and blog content seek to teach individuals to do the same. In all realms, Skye’s goal is to light you up and inspire you to love life and yourself. If she can accomplish that goal via fiction, nonfiction, podcasts, fitness, or pictures of her adorable dog, then she is honored!
When not cheering for you to live your best life, Skye can be found adventuring near and far, usually with Winston the Corgi by her side.
Anti-Belle Lifestyle Website
Also by Skye McDonald
Not Suitable For Work: Anti-Belle Book 1
Off the Record: Anti-Belle Book 2
Nemesis Page 26
