Page 113 of Tracking Wolfe

“Trace Bishop, I’ve trusted you for decades. It was me I didn’t trust. I’ve spent so long hiding parts of myself away, I lost myself a little.” He lifted his hand to my face. “But you tracked me down. You helped me find myself again.”

“Wolfe—”

He leaned his head against my shoulder and let out a long exhale. “You should know, I talked to Gabe. He deleted all Jake’s pictures. I came here tonight and announced to all of Legacy—and probably a couple million people online—that I’m Fletcher Coe because I wanted to. Because I chose to. Because loving you helps me remember that I’m brave and capable. But… fuck, please tell me you’re okay with it, Trace. Being out as Fletcher is going to be hard. And I don’t want⁠—”

“I love you.” I hoped the words were the answer to any question he had.

Wolfe’s arms tightened around me. “I know. I know you do. I finally understood that’s why you want to protect me and, you know…”

“Coddle you?” I supplied, so overwhelmed with pure, undiluted love, I felt giddy with it. I held the back of his head and pressed a kiss to the top of it. “Yes. Always.”

“I love you, too, Trace. So much.”

I smiled tenderly. “I got that, baby, when you announced to all of Legacy and millions of people on the internet that you wrote that song for me. But you were wrong, you know?”

He gave me a puzzled look. “About loving you?”

“No. About ‘Not Mine.’” I pushed back the sweaty hair that kept wanting to flop on his forehead. “I am yours. I have been for a long fucking time, even when I was trying to fight it. And you, Wolfe Marian, Fletcher Coe, love of my life… are mine.”

He leaned into me and kissed me before pulling back.

“I need to find my dads. And then I want to go home. To your cabin. With you. And I want to live there. With you. And I need you not to fight me on this, even if you’re not ready, because I’m ready enough for the both of us, and I don’t want to waste any more time.”

I forced his head up so I could meet his eyes again. So he could see the big grin on my face. I loved hearing him demand what he wanted. What he deserved.

“Okay. But my cabin is the size of a shoebox, so I think we’ll need to consider a bigger place. Somewhere you can make new music and park our camper van.” I winked at him.

And then I kissed him again, hard and long so he would know I was sure of him. Of all of it.

“Let’s go find Jude and Derek,” I suggested. “Jude’s probably drowning in happy tears, and Derek is probably threatening someone’s job if they don’t let him see you.”

Wolfe took my hand and led me out of the wing and into the waiting crowd. The poor singer who was supposed to go onstage next was being delayed while the volunteers tried to manage the fans.

Sure enough, Jude and Derek were front and center, Jude’s face damp with tears and Derek’s expression dark.

“There he is,” Derek said. “Fucking finally. Listen here, Wolfe Marian, I don’t approve of whatever the fuck this is.” He waved a hand, encompassing Wolfe, me, and the stage around us. “You’re my son. This is completely unacceptable.”

Wolfe’s entire body stiffened, and he shrank back against me.

I shot Derek a look.

“Baby,” I murmured into Wolfe’s ear. “He’s cranky that you told the volunteers to let me go backstage and not them. I already told your parents about us, and they’re fine with us being together. I promise.”

He turned to look at me with wide eyes before looking back at Derek, who pulled him into a crushing hug.

When Derek spoke against Wolfe’s hair, his voice was gruff with emotion. “Of course we are. We’re so fucking proud of you. Love you so much.” He repeated the words over and over until Jude was nearly crying again just watching them.

“Dammit, Bluebell,” he finally said, pulling Jude into the hug. “Going to break my heart.”

Jude took Wolfe in his arms and whispered words I couldn’t make out. Wolfe’s back hitched with a silent sob. I reached out to rub his lower back, reminding him I was right here.

Several people with phone cameras were capturing the moment. The volunteers were holding them far enough back that they probably couldn’t pick up on what was being said. But I knew it would all be posted on social media.

I hoped Wolfe had given Fletcher’s PR people a heads-up.

The Marians finally pulled themselves together enough for us to get out of there. We met up with Rosie and Lennon, who were shocked but thrilled. I could sense Wolfe’s nerves every time he encountered someone else and had to face their surprise at his news.

By the time we climbed into the Land Rover to head to Marian Lodge, he looked shell-shocked.