Living With The Bad Boy

Epilogue) Ugh, That Was So Cheesy

"Are you two kids serious right now?" the officer asked, rubbing his temple. With his bald head and tall structure, he looked a little terrifying so I gulped. Sam? He was relaxed and leaning back against the uncomfortable wooden chair. I forgot he's been here before.

"It was just a little joke," Sam shrugged. We were lucky to not be sitting in the jail cell, rotting our lives away.

"Just a little joke?!" the man fumed. "The entire house was covered by eggs!" Now let's rewind for a second. After college, we moved back to Nana's house and decided to stay there until our house in Massachusetts was completely ready to move into. Sam insisted that we'd do something fun to celebrate and we ended up trashing Elisa's house with eggs, since she still doesn't know how to leave us alone even after four whole years. It's not our fault she can't take a little joke.

"She still pays girls to throw themselves on me!" Sam protested, glaring at the man. "That's sexual assault."

"Then you come to the police, not ruin private property," the officer said in a slow voice, as if he was talking to a child. "You kids are lucky you're not sitting in a jail cell. I should make you sit in a jail cell."

"Did I mention that I have a broken leg because of her?" I pointed out. "Sorry, I had a broken leg." Just because it's been a long time doesn't mean that I forgot about it.

"I have no proof of that," the officer shrugged. "Both of your legs seem to be functioning perfectly fine. However, there's a recording of you two-"

"Can I call my dad?" Sam interrupted, raking his fingers through his attractive hair. It's been four years and I still find that gesture hot. That cocky idiot knew it too. "I'll pay you if you let us leave."

"Call your dad first," he instructed, handing Sam his cell phone. I found mine a couple feet away and quickly grabbed it when he wasn't looking. My poor baby needed a bath the second I went back inside.

I heard Sam grunting at the sound of James not answering his cell phone and sent a quick text to the group chat, asking them to do something.

"He's coming right now," I reassured, giving the cop a fake smile. I flipped my waist-length hair to the side and found it funny how Harvard graduates were sitting in a police station. I examined my ring finger and smiled at the ring that sat there. He proposed to me a couple months ago and my insides still turned giddy every time I looked at the ring.

Sam looked at the message and held back a smile, squeezing my hand. Ah, the butterflies and dragonflies. "I'm glad you'll never change," he whispered, tracing the ring he put on. I'm glad he'll never change too.

"I grew another inch," I whispered. "I've changed a lot."

He looked up and down my body and slyly smirked at me. "Yeah, you have," he grinned. Pervert.

I wanted to point out that it took me until college for the curves and an extra six pounds to kick in. Along with that, I was a good 5'9 and 123 pounds, and most importantly, only half a foot shorter than Sam. That means that if I wore six-inch heels, we would be the same height. I had to learn to balance properly in heels higher than three inches first.

"Stop whispering before I throw you inside," the man barked, interrupting our conversation. I jumped a little at his loud tone and rolled my eyes. It's a good thing he didn't listen to what we were talking about.

I felt a little buzz in my hands and saw a couple messages from our friend group. Nena and Chase, who broke up twice due to distance but are now together again and married, texted us that they were ready. Prepare for chaos.

"FIRE! FIRE!" Nena and Chase screamed from outside. That was smart, I thought with a snort.

The officer jumped up and narrowed his eyes at us. "Don't move," he ordered, sprinting outside. The second he left, I ignored all the people who were locked up and yelling at us and ran outside with Sam, jumping into the half-broken car that my brother was driving.