Page 118 of The Love of My Next Life
Maybe I’ll dye it too. Maybe I’ll go blonde. Or red.
I smile, and it’s not fake.
A new Lennon for a new life. I’ve outgrown the last one.
EPILOGUE
My phone is ringing.Not the regular tone. Not the alarm.
I feel around the bedside table for it in the dark, knocking it on the floor with a thud. I leave it, close my eyes, and start to drift back to sleep.
It’s ringing again. I groan and kick off the covers. The balmy air tickles my naked skin, hardening my nipples and bringing attention to my already sticky thighs.
“Who is it,chérie?” Franco mumbles from beside me, his French accent thicker in sleep.
“Je ne sais pas,” I say as I kneel on the floor and feel around for my phone. It stops ringing again. I huff. My fingers finally close around the phone, and I grin in triumph, standing up and climbing back into bed before checking the Caller ID.
My heart stops and my brow furrows when I see the name. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen that name on my phone.
“Qui est-ce?” Franco asks again. I barely hear myself answer.
“Claire.”
“Your sister?”
“Step,” I correct, just as the phone starts ringing again. I let it ring six times before I answer.
“Hello?”
Lennon?
“Yeah, it’s me.”
It’s Claire.
“I know.”
Lennon. You need to come home.
* * *
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FROM THE AUTHOR
WHOA what a ride.
If you’re hurting right now, me too.
If you’re angry with me, I get it. I’d be angry with me also.
But I promise I’ll fix it. I can’t promise book two is smooth sailing, because it’s not, but I swear you’ll get your HEA.
Like Macon said, “Isn’t that how all the best love stories play out? It’s not love if it doesn’t hurt first.”
