I’ve never been happier in my life.

47

Sophie

I’m insanely excited about the house we’re seeing today. I’ve been flipping through the photos on the realty site while waiting for the guys to pick me up.

Miles’ numbered texts continue to come through, but stop at four, just moments before my doorbell rings. I race around to grab my purse and slip on my shoes before meeting him at the front door.

“You’re early.”

“Ok, so it takes twenty-six minutes,” he replies with a shrug, walking with me to Brody’s car. He’s parked in the center strip between the front two townhouses on the property. “Maybe it’s this maniac’s driving.”

I roll my eyes, sliding into the front seat, even though I’ve told Miles several times that the back is perfectly fine.

Our realtor, Sam, takes us to a home in Echo Park the next day. She lets us enter first and my jaw drops. The photos didn’t do it justice. It’s all jewel tones and dark wood and looks like a turn-of-the-century home that has been restored.

“Like it?” asks Sam, arms crossed as she follows us around. Her heels make that satisfying clicky sound when she walks.

“It’s beautiful,” I breathe, walking further into the home to look at the kitchen.

“Built in 1909,” she goes on as the guys follow me further in. “It’s been restored with as much of the original woodwork as possible. Some of it had to be replaced, but it’s all solid wood.” She taps a perfectly manicured nail on the ornate frame of the front door. “You’d never know the difference.”

“How many bedrooms?” asks Miles, walking backward into the living room while staring at the light fixture on the ceiling. It’s a small chandelier that fits perfectly with the rest of the aesthetic.

“Six,” Sam answers, following us. “Plus a separate office space. Four bathrooms and a two-car garage. Plenty of backyard space, too. Good for pets or kids.”

“What do you think, Sophie?” asks Brody, sidling up behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist.

“It’s perfect,” I giggle. “Miles?”

“If Sophie’s happy, I’m happy.”

Halloween passes quietly. Natalie and I spend the evening running through our annual rewatch ofStranger Things. Not many kids ring the doorbell, given that we’re at the back of our property. I’ll say one thing for Brody–our doorbell cam hasn’t malfunctioned since theincident.

With a week left until we officially move in, the guys invite me over for dinner.

“A real dinner,” says Miles over the phone. “No distractions.”

It makes me giggle because I know damn well those two get distracted easily, whether I’m there or not. I’ve seen the way they look at each other, seen the way they touch each other when we’re together, even fully clothed. I was happy with each of them before, but I’m happier than ever knowing they have each other in the way that they do.

When I arrive, I still have half a mind to do some distracting. Miles is bouncing on the balls of his feet when he answers the door, like a puppy excited that his human has come home from work.

“You know we aren’t moving in for another week,” I point out as he leads me inside.

“Yeah, yeah. That’s exciting. But Brody and I have something else we’ve been talking about.”

I frown as he leads me to the kitchen island where a manila folder is sitting on the nearest corner. There’s nothing to indicate what’s inside, other than the thickness.

“Do I get to open this?” I ask, looking between them. Brody is standing by the fridge while Miles sits at one of the bar stools next to me.

“Please do,” says Brody, waving his hand with a hint of a smile on his face.

“It’s a bunch of… paperwork. Thanks.” I don’t sound grateful, just confused. There’s mention of an LLC. A few papers later is a business plan with the words ‘rough draft’ along the top. I look back up at them, my head turning back and forth to meet each gaze, green and gold. “What is this?”

“It’s the beginning of a production company,” Miles explains.

“You haven’t talked a lot about what you would want to see in a production company if you owned one,” Brody goes on, “but we put this together to show you it’s possible.Much sooner than I think you realize. This isn’t set in stone, nothing is signed. It’s more symbolic.”