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I swallow my nerves. I probably should have told him beforehand, but he would have worried or tried to convince me not to go. “I had to look him in the face. He stole so fucking much from me, and I had to…” I suck in a breath.
He rests his forehead against mine and palms the back of my neck, his grip possessive and calming. “I know, baby. How’d it go? Did it help?”
“Well, he was as pleasant as always.”
He snorts. “Surely you didn’t expect him to grow a conscience.”
“No. And I didn’t go there to try and make him understand anything, or even to gloat. I wanted him to see that he didn’t beat me.”
He dusts his lips over mine. “He could never beat you, Mase. It was brave to go see him.”
“I also told him that I love you and that we are really happy. And I told him not to worry because I’ll always take care of you.”
His eyes narrow, filled with emotion. “You told him that?”
I nod, my fingers gripping his T-shirt. “It’s true, mi rey. Always.”
He kisses me softly. “What did I do to deserve you, baby?”
I pull him in for a kiss, taking what’s mine. He’s always been mine, and he always will be.
Epilogue 1
KING - THREE MONTHS LATER
I fidget with my bow tie, trying to get it to sit just right. I hate these things, and with good reason—they’re ridiculous and pointless. The exception to that rule walks up behind me, his eyes on mine in the mirror. Of course his bow tie is perfect, and he looks fucking incredible.
Accepting defeat, I drop my hands and let the tie hang in a loose half-knot around my neck.
“Everything okay?” Mason asks.
“I hate tying these things,” I huff.
A small smile plays on his lips. “So don’t wear one, babe.” He reaches around my neck from behind and unfastens the mess I’ve made. “Or better still, wear it like this.” He leaves the two ends hanging loose and unfastens the top button of my dress shirt. “Looks good on you.”
I study my reflection. He’s right, it does look good. And it’s infinitely more comfortable. “But it’s black tie.”
He skims his nose across the back of my neck. “And you’re wearing a black tie.”
Technically, yes, but I’m sure this isn’t what the fancy invite meant when it specified the dress code. The gala dinner event is hosted by Amber’s charity, and I’ve had nothing but pleasantinteractions with the woman, but I know better than to get on the wrong side of her. Especially as this night represents so much more than a party for Mason and me. I want everything to go perfectly.
Aware of my unease, he wraps his arms around my waist and rests his chin on my shoulder.
“Relax, King. It’s our party, and we can wear whatever the hell we like.”
“It’s your family’s party,” I remind him.
He smiles at me in the mirror. “And you’re a James now, in all but name.”
I answer without thinking. “I like your name.”
“You can have it, mi rey. All you have to do is ask.” He kisses my neck, and a shiver of excitement runs up my spine. “Are you sure you’re not nervous about tonight for another reason?”
“I’m not nervous, Mase. I just don’t like bow ties.” I sound a little too defensive for the first part of that statement to be true.
“We don’t have to do this tonight, babe. We don’t have to do this so publicly.”
I swallow down my anxiety. It was my idea that we arrive at the event together. An idea that came to me during one of my therapy sessions. Me, in therapy! I was skeptical and certain I would never go back leading up to my first session, but I now go once a week. It’s unbelievable how much progress I’ve made processing and reshaping the fucked-up thought patterns I carry from my upbringing.
