Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 128069 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128069 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Past the gate, down the concourse, toward security, through the doors, and into Wes’s arms on the other side.
He scoops me up in a koala hug. “You did it!”
“No, you did it.” I kiss him again and again. “You did.”
“Nope.” Then he shrugs, and smiles. “Okay, we did.”
The funding made it possible for Thalia to make my old job a regular one, where I can manage the Your Next Five Reads and also the library’s digital efforts, like I did before. I didn’t want to leave the foundation in the lurch, but I didn’t have to—Penelope is taking the permanent job they’d offered me in Boston.
With that behind us, and the future ahead of us, Wes takes me to the charming townhouse where I’ve laughed, cried, and loved. The second he pulls into the garage it feels just like that—home. I’m ready to race up the stairs and reconnect with him, but once we’re in the foyer, he says, “Remember that promise I made you?”
“Which one?”
He reaches for my hand. “I’ll show you.”
He takes me to my old room under the stairs and swings the door open. I gasp. He’s turned it into a library. Gleaming white walls are filled with shelves and books, fresh pillows line the window seat, and best of all—there’s a ladder resting against the shelves.
I tug him close to me, against the ladder, and kiss the breath out of him.
He’s always been the most generous person I’ve ever known, but to put himself out there like he did the other week? He’s not just my boyfriend. He’s the man I want to spend the rest of my life with.
But first things first. “Will you fuck me on this ladder? I feel like this belongs on a list somewhere after all.”
“Our new list,” he says, then fulfills a brand-new fantasy.
EPILOGUE: NUMBER TEN
Josie
As I settle into my new old job at the little library next to the fire station in the Upper Haight, I feel both like an explorer in San Francisco and like a regular.
When I first arrived here back in the fall, I connected instantly with the city. San Francisco is a vibrant tapestry of cultures and experiences. It’s a little like a new book. You crack it open and discover a story on every page.
When our schedules align, Wes and I explore the city’s neighborhoods, from the postcard charm of Chinatown to the edgier vibes of the Mission District. We go to bookstores, and we check out night markets, picking up some of Maeve’s lamps to decorate our place.
It’s not quite black and chrome now. It has a little more color.
Tonight, though, it’s time for that cocktail-mixing class at last. We’re taking it with our friends. We go to Sticks and Stones, a bar the guys on the team like.
We join Max and Asher at the sleek silver counter. Miles is here too. He’s a center on the team, and he’s started hanging out with the guys lately. He’s both sarcastic and thoughtful and that combo seems to keep the guys on their toes.
Everly and Maeve are here too, and so is Fable. As the owner—a friendly guy named Gage—guides us through how to mix an old-fashioned, Everly scoffs at Max’s efforts to mix in bourbon. He looks amused as he stirs, but then the famously grumpy goalie turns to her with a stern look. “What is it, sunshine? Got a tip for me on my cocktail?”
Sunshine? I look to Wes, whispering, “He calls her sunshine?”
Wes shrugs. “Evidently.”
“Not at all,” Everly says to Max with a bright smile. “I’m just enjoying learning all about your new skills.”
“You’re surprised I can mix a drink?”
She gestures to his face. “I’m surprised you’re not scowling.”
“Consider me shocked too,” Miles weighs in.
“Same here,” Asher adds.
“And I have to agree,” Wes adds.
“Looks like it’s unanimous,” Everly says.
Max harrumphs, almost like he’s been caught red-handed being un-growly. He resumes mixing, and I keep wondering what’s up with the two of them.
But I’ll find out another time.
For now, I shake my cocktail glass, the ice clinking against the metal, and I’m happy, surrounded by friends who feel like family and with my guy by my side.
A few weeks later…
The view. Seriously, the view. “A little to the left maybe,” I say.
Wes adjusts the frame and moves it slightly on the wall, then lifts the hammer again and smacks the nail behind it. “I think you just like watching me being handy,” he drawls.
“Maybe,” I say. “I mean, the arm porn is good from where I sit.”
He finishes hanging the artwork we both picked out, then asks, “Is this good?”
“It’s perfect,” I say, then pat the couch cushion. “Now come join us.”
He walks over to the sofa, and flops down next to me and our newest addition. “Hey, Pancake,” Wes says, then nuzzles the cutie—a Cattle Dog mix we adopted from Little Friends. He’s item number one on our new list, which we’re still building, but we have two items on it so far.