𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐲

Epilogue

Warnings: This epilogue chapter contains 18+ NSFW material. Minors, click away now. This content is not for you.

A/N: It's finally here! I appreciate you all for being so patient with me. I make no apologies for how long this chapter got (it could've been split in two) (seriously, clear your schedule), but I do hope you guys enjoy it! Fair warning that Noah and Elliot do have sexual scenes in this chapter, so if you would like to avoid this or keep it to your own imagination, I would recommend stopping at Chapter 100.

Nevertheless, without further ado...

— Epilogue —
Four Years Later

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E L L I O T

"Noah! Noah, wake up!" Drawing back ivory curtains, I called for the bear-sized man splayed out on punished bedsheets. "Come on, we're late. We're so, so late!"

Wincing into his pillow, the grouchy bear grumbled back at me.

"Sunshine... it's eight in the mindfuck of morning..."

"You bet the sun's shining! And you're still not moving!" Letting go of the buttons I was so desperately trying to do up on my black shirt, my off-guard brain took a pause. "Wait, it's the what of what? No, nevermind—"

Kicking away discarded clothes strewn across the room's timber flooring, I shuffled to Noah's side and reached to pry away his beloved blankets.

"It's opening day!" I said eagerly. "You know, that one little thing we've been stressing about for weeks? I've been calling you to wake up for fifteen minutes!"

Indifferent to my ministrations and still dozy with sleep, my insomniac biker fussed against my meek attempts, trying to wave me off with his naked arms. Most of him was naked, actually. Noah preferred to sleep without friction, meaning I had to pick up the nightly burden of convincing him to wear boxers. It was a debate I usually lost.

The sharp smack of a pillow against his head had him seeing reason.

"Okay, okay—fiiine," he yawned, noncommittal.

Heaving onto his back, Noah rested himself up against the headboard and narrowed his bleary gold eyes into a heated smize.

Aaand he's checking me out now. Wonderful.

In all fairness, I probably looked insane. Half-dressed in unbuttoned black jeans, mismatched socks, and a black suit shirt that I'd thrown loosely over my shoulders, I was standing with only one sleeve rolled up and my marked-up chest on full display. My neck-length hair was an unkempt disaster thanks to the hairdryer, and my posture was painfully crooked—definitely from Noah driving it home all of the night before.

Flustered by the million sparkling shivers bubbling up my spine, I said with crossed arms and an impatient huff, "Are you going to get out of that bed or just keep gawking at me like a fish?"

Of course, the biker didn't reply, so I then inquired, "What is it?"

A breathy chuckle escaped his hoarse throat.

"Just so fucking... beautiful..." he mumbled in a stupor, turning to grin into another pillow. Rampant shivers blossomed into skittish butterflies. "I think I might still be dreaming."