What If You & Me (Say Everything #2) - Roni Loren Page 0,114

her hand to indicate Andi and Hill—“when we divorce.”

Ramsey chuckled, this interplay with Eliza a common one these last few months as Hill’s and Andi’s friends came together. “Who’s saying we wouldn’t make it?”

Eliza rolled her eyes.

“So,” Jasper said, clearly trying to save Ramsey from a conversation that would only continue to spiral, “when’s the cookbook due?”

Hill took a gulp of his champagne. “We have about four months. The publisher only wants to use a few recipes from the blog so that it’s mostly brand-new content, but they want me to keep the same kind of recipes that I do on the blog and in the videos. You know, keep it simple for new cooks, single people, busy couples, that kind of thing. Plus, Andi will be adding the movie recommendations.”

Andi was smiling so hard as Hill talked that she was sure she probably looked deranged or drunk, but she never got tired of seeing her guy explain his new projects. The man lit up when he talked about cooking and food. She’d noticed it pretty quickly when they’d first started seeing each other, but since he’d decided to give a cooking blog a real try, she’d watched him transform. First, when the blog had started to gain some traction, then when he’d agreed to do some cooking lessons with her on video. In their videos, they’d feature a meal and a movie that matched the theme and dubbed the segments Netflix & Hill as a play on Netflix and chill.

The segments had turned out to be the tipping point. An editor had started following the vlog and then contacted Hill to see if he’d be interested in doing a cookbook with Hill providing the recipes and Andi matching movies to them.

“So does this mean lots of movie marathons?” Hollyn asked between sips of gazpacho.

“Yep,” Andi declared. “And you ladies are always invited. I promise it won’t be only horror.” She bumped her shoulder into Hill’s. “I’ve grown to appreciate a good romance these days, too.”

Hill kissed the crown of her head, right over the spot where the hair had been yanked out by Jacob Alberts. Luckily, her hair had grown back with no permanent damage beyond her scalp sometimes tingling. And though her psyche would always have the mark of that attack along with what had happened to her as a teen, she’d gotten back into therapy and felt more in control of her anxiety these days than she’d ever been. Plus, she’d used the incident as fuel, which had helped her healing process tremendously. She’d poured all her anxiety, anger, and frustration into her book Doxed, and the joke was on Jacob. While he was sitting in jail, her book was on the bestseller list.

Fuck him.

Hollyn gave Andi a knowing smile and then sent Eliza a look. “Look at that. We’ve turned her into a romantic after all.”

“Hush your mouth, Hollyn Deares,” Andi said, tossing an olive at her. “You say that too loud, and you’re going to ruin my reputation.”

“It’ll be our little secret. And don’t worry, we’ll still allow you to have the occasional movie where everyone dies at the end,” Eliza said magnanimously.

“Except the final girl,” Hollyn added.

“Thank you.” Andi raised her glass. “To final girls.”

Hill gave her a squeeze when everyone repeated “To final girls.”

He leaned close to her ear. “To my final girl.”

Warmth moved through her, and she turned to brush her lips against his. “To my final guy.”

The words came out so easily because she knew them to be true. They’d been together for over a year, and not once had she doubted what she’d declared the night of her attack. She loved him. He loved her. They were meant to be together.

That hadn’t meant there hadn’t been work to be done. Both of them had issues they were working through in therapy. Andi still looked over her shoulder at night. She was still suspicious of strangers. Hill had to be vigilant to keep his depression from surfacing again, and he still had flashbacks to the fire if he heard certain sounds. But the difference was that they were a team now. They didn’t have to fight those battles alone.

Love meant someone had your back. Love meant you didn’t have to hide what you were struggling with. Love taught you that sometimes it was okay not to be okay.

But more often than not lately, Andi was so much more than okay. She was happy. Full-throated, screaming-into-the-sky happy. She’d worked really hard to