Page 131 of How Good It Was (Excess All Areas 3)

“And concealer, because I look like I died about several hours ago and rigor mortis is setting in.”

“Fine. A bit. Not because I’m trying to control you, but I think it’s time we took a stand on the pressure of trying to live a social-media-perfect life. It’s fake and doesn’t exist. Let them see you, Willow. Let them see the woman who’s supported her family all these years. Let them see the woman her father has attempted and failed to control. Let them see the woman who changed countries to protect her career. And let them see how much I love you, flower. Because I really fucking do.”

Willow dabbed the corner of her eye. “Don’t make me cry. And I love you too.”

Jase made a barfing sound, and the tension in the room broke into laughter.

As Cerys finished signing, Zoe said, “I wish someone would speak to me like that.”

Chaya fanned her face. “Same. Who knew Luke had hero potential in him?”

It took thirty minutes for everyone to finish eating, another fifteen to set up a spot to record. Because it was a nice day, everyone stepped out into Nan’s small yard so they could have some privacy.

“We should have a script,” Willow said.

“We don’t need a script.”

“Questions, then. A structure, maybe.”

“No. Because you can edit it together when we are done. Let’s just speak from our hearts, yeah?” He kissed her softly, her lips pliant beneath his. “We’ve got this.”

“Okay.”

Willow reached forward and pressed the record button. “Hey, everyone. This is going to be a different kind of video. It’s going to be an honest one. The truth. It’s the only statement we’re going to make.”

Willow looked at him and smiled. “It’s the story of a man and a woman who had the craziest meet-cute in history.” Her eyes never left his. “And while the story is wild. At its heart are two things: Social media can be fake, but real love isn’t.”

Luke kissed her again, not giving a shit it was being recorded. “No, it isn’t. Tell ’em, flower.”

Willow woke the following morning, back in their own apartment, wrapped up in Luke’s arms. And as memories of the day before began to filter through her mind—the sense of anger and confusion at Riley and her outrage that her father would attempt to sabotage her in this way—she buried deeper beneath the covers.

John and Kelly had both left sympathetic and apologetic messages informing her that Riley was in a whole heap of shit, and they wanted to hear from Willow as soon as she felt up to it. She’d messaged them back to say thank you, and that she’d call when the dust settled.

Luke slid a hand over her belly, holding both her and Cletus close. Cletus kicked firmly against the weight of his hand.

“Holy shit,” Luke cried, waking up fully and pushing himself up on one arm. “Did you feel that, flower?”

Willow yawned and placed her hand over his. “You can finally feel it?”

As she asked the question, Cletus obliged by kicking again. “Shit. That’s ...” Luke kissed her stomach. “Hey, bud. Go easy on your mum. That was some kick. I’ll sign you up for kickboxing when you’re old enough, okay?” He shifted his hand so it was on top of hers, not beneath it. “That’s some wild shit.”

Willow smiled. “It is, isn’t it?”

“And you’ve been feeling that inside for a couple of weeks?”

“Yeah. He’s a squirmer.”

“He’s a miracle. We need to think of names.”

Willow turned onto her side. “We already have one, don’t we?”

Luke shook his head. “No. I mean, Cletus is going to stick as a nickname, but I don’t think we should lump the kid with it for real.”

She laughed and stroked his shoulder. “I thought we should name him after your dad.”

Luke stopped. Stopped moving, stopped circling her stomach, definitely stopped blinking as he stared at her wide eyed, and quite possibly stopped breathing given the way he exhaled and sucked in a breath moments later.

“For real?”

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