Page 117 of Heartsmashed
A slow grin curled my lips, and I reached for him, sealing the deal with a kiss.
Maybe we still had things to figure out and trust to rebuild. Dates and life once we got back to the city. Morning coffee and long conversations, and whatever happened once we left the resort and returned to a world without all the noise and family chaos and exes…and judgmental horses.
But for tonight, this was exactly where we needed to be. Beckett’s arms around me, his heartbeat under my ear. No lies left between us. Only the future ahead.
For the first time in a long time, my heart didn’t feel like something smashed beyond repair. It felt bruised. Tender, but wide open. And somehow still beating. Still hopeful.
Ready for whatever came next.
34
EPILOGUE
Sawyer
Three Months Later
“GOOD EVENING, YOU’RE listening to WZNY 105.7 FM. I’m Sawyer Montgomery, coming to you from the city that never sleeps, which is fun in your twenties, so enjoy it while you can. Tonight’s show is sponsored by Xanax and my therapist, both of which you have to thank for the fact that I’m no longer playing the saddest songs you’ve ever heard.”
Behind the glass, Leon was shaking his head at me, but at least he no longer slammed it in the door after one of my shows. It was progress.
Was I still capable of ruining someone’s night? Absolutely—I mean, I was a professional. But there was something to be said for personal growth and emotional stability, blah blah blah…not to mention a boyfriend who showed up to the studio with my coffee order exactly right, looking so insanely hot that I had to wipe a little drool off the corner of my mouth.
He was standing beside Leon holding two coffees and wearing dark jeans and a fitted charcoal Columbia Athletics quarter-zip, his blond hair a little mussed from the freezing weather outside, his cheeks still pink.
My man. My real, no-payment, no-fake-role,actualboyfriend.
Who made me wanna throw him up against a wall and have my way with him between commercial breaks.
“So tonight,” I said, trying not to get distracted, “we’re talking about what happensafterheartbreak. Give me a call, we’ll yap, I’ll play you a song, you’re welcome.”
The call board was already blinking full, and I hit the button for the first one.
“Hi, Sawyer.”
“Hello there, mystery caller. What’s your name and how fragile are you feeling on a scale of one to ten?”
She laughed. “I’m Maya and…maybe an eight?”
“Oof. Rough number. What’s goin’ on?”
“So my boyfriend dumped me four months ago.”
“Already hate him.”
“You don’t even know what happened.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m loyal to callers first, facts second. Continue.”
That got another chuckle out of her, and I leaned back in my chair, my gaze drifting to Beckett as he stepped into the studio and set my coffee carefully on my desk. He didn’t interrupt or make a big show of it, just placed the cup within reach, his fingers brushing mine as he did. When I glanced up, he leaned close enough that only I could hear him.
“Extra shot,” he said.
I covered the mic with one hand. “Marry me.”
He grinned. “Ask me when you’re not on air,” he said, winking as he walked away to sit in the corner like he hadn’t just short-circuited my brain.
Ugh, the man was perfect.
