Page 158 of Wardrobe Malfunction

I step off the stage, and a glass of champagne is put in my hand.

“Congratulations,” the guy says.

“Thanks.”

I take a sip. Taking it all in, I look at the gold statue again.

I did it.

A minute later, I’m ushered out of the Dolby Theatre and into the adjoining Loews Hollywood Hotel where I do photographs and press.

The Oscars are over by the time I’m finished with the press. So, I meet back up with Charly in the limo. We’re heading to an after-party.

“Hey,” she says as I slip into the seat next to her. “Can I look?”

I hand the statue to her.

“Wow,” she murmurs.

“Right?”

We look at each other and then both let out yelps of excitement.

Charly throws her arms around me. “You freaking did it, Vaughn! I knew you would!”

“You never doubted.”

“Not a moment.” She smiles, handing me the statue back.

I put it on the seat next to me. I consider actually strapping it in with a seat belt, but that would be weird, right?

“So, that was quite an acceptance speech you gave.”

“You liked it?”

“I loved it. But I could’ve lived without you telling everyone that I stabbed you.”

“At least I didn’t tell them where you stabbed me.” I gesture to my cock.

“True. There is that to be thankful for.” She nods.

“And I didn’t tell them that the underwear you made was a cock warmer.”

“It wasn’t a cock—”

I cut her off with a kiss, like I always do when we have this debate, which has happened many times over the years.

“Warmer,” she murmurs.

“I love you,” I tell her.

“I love you, too.”

“How’s my son doing in there?” I press a hand to her bump.

“Our son is doing good. Sleeping now, I think. He was on the move when you were giving your speech. I think he was excited for you.”

“Not as excited as I am to meet him.” I lean down to talk to my son. “Three more weeks, and we get to meet, buddy. Your mom and I are so excited. And your gran and granddad, great-grandma, aunts, and cousins are all excited. There are a lot of people waiting to meet you, Elijah.”