I give in and humor him, because how can I not? He’s singlehandedly the most ridiculous person I’ve ever met, and it’s my favorite thing about him. “It was love at first shot.”

His jaw drops. “Now look who’s being cute with the puns,” he says, sounding awestruck.

“Seemed like your love language.”

“You know me well, pookie.”

I huff like the name is such an embarrassment. It’s not. “That’s stuck now, hasn’t it?”

“I’m sure I could think of something worse if you really hate it.”

I shut him up with a kiss. It’s how I win all our arguments and how I plan to win all future ones. Perry is easily distracted and kissing is his weakness.

He sighs against my mouth. “You really are perfect.”

“That’s because we match.”

He’s uncharacteristically quiet for a moment and I give us a little distance to read his face. Before I can ask, he whispers, “I’m going to marry you one day.”

Those body fluttering nerves fill me again. “Oh, yeah? You sound confident.”

“I am.” He looks me straight in the eyes. “Because you’re giving me that look.”

And I’ll give it to him forever. If he wants to marry me one day, that’s exactly what we’ll do.

Perry Nikov is himbo husband material. And he’s all mine.

EPILOGUE

PERRY

FIVE YEARS LATER

.

Everything turned out perfectly.

If you leave perfect up to interpretation.

So, I did need to take Elle’s money, but I haven’t missed a single week of repaying her, and I think, maybe five years later, my sister is starting to see me as a whole grown-ass adult.

Which is just in time, too, because St. Clare marrying me would have been a tad creepy otherwise. Well, that’s if he says yes. I’m proposing tonight, in front of all of our family and friends, because everyone knows that public proposals are impossible to say no to.

Peer pressure and all that. I’m not too proud to stack the deck if it gets him tied to me for life.

I’m almost confident he’ll say yes though. Mostly. At least … sixty-seven percent chance.

I lean over and press a kiss to Margot’s bulging tummy. “Sure you’re not in labor?”

“Nope. Now, stop shitting yourself and get the ring—I can’t goddamn reach anymore.”

“I could really use a baby to snuggle while I do this.”

She blinks at me, that perfect storm of a heavily pregnant woman past her due date and her annoying brother nudging her along. “Sure,” she snaps. “That’s why I’m having this kid. For you.”

I grab both her shoulders. “You really are the best sister ever.”

“I can’t wait to be back to my usual self so people—you—will take me seriously when I threaten to kick your ass.”