A/N: This is the epilogue. No "M" rating on this one. I wanted to end the story where it should end—with happiness and fluff. No sense dragging it out, especially since I've started on my next story! (It will be a little darker, with some fantasy overtones—kind of a departure for me.)
I awake in gradual stages, noting first the firm warmth of the body beside me; second, the smell of morning, of sex, of Eames's tea-rose perfume. I lie still for a minute, drinking in the bliss of feeling utterly at peace. Then Eames lets out a small, sleepy mew, and burrows herself more closely into me.
"This is better," she murmurs drowsily, "being here with you."
"Better than what?" I ask, stroking one finger down the side of her cheek, causing her to shiver, goosebumps rising in the wake of my caress.
"Better than everything," she says. "Better than before."
I heartily concur.
She shifts around until we are facing—her bedroom tawny eyes blinking up at me. I feel a moment of disconnect from reality. Everything just seems too good. Too much. My entire life up until now has had its share of joyful moments, but the bottom always seems to drop out. The day at the beach building sandcastles is always tempered by the night spent locked in the closet, listening to my mother raving, the dull thud of my father's fists. The nights spent with Lewis, hitting on girls, working on cars, always ending with the knowledge that I had to sleep on his floor, that my family wouldn't miss me. Even later, drinking margaritas with Eames, laughing at her jokes, ultimately having to walk home alone, picturing her smiling, tequila-flushed face, realizing that memories were all I would ever have of her.
She snuggles against me.
"I know what would make this morning even better," I joke, as she presses against my not-so-subtle morning erection. I wiggle my eyebrows suggestively as she feels tentatively around under the sheets, grinning.
"So do I," she says seductively, leaning in to whisper in my ear—"waffles."
I let out a short laugh at this, and prepare to hop out of bed.
"Listen, Alex," I say, wanting to get this out of the way before I leave the comfort of our embrace. "The last few months—hell, the last few years, I'm— " Alex stops me with a tiny hand over my mouth, clamping down with surprising strength.
"Don't you apologize to me, Bobby Goren," she says warningly. "I want to put all of that behind us. Yeah, we had a rough time of it, yeah things got shitty for awhile, yeah we both went through the ringer—but we came through it. We survived. Our partnership is stronger than ever. And we're going to continue to grow. As a couple. Together. So let's not start this out with apologies."
She waits for a second before withdrawing her hand.
"Actually," I say, "I was going to say that all of that drama was a clever ploy to get you in the sack. And it worked!"
Eames threw a pillow at me.
God, she's beautiful when she laughs.
Ok that's it! Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Stay tuned for my next story—intrigue, mystery, sex, and jealousy. Everything you'd want! Xoxo.