Alicia walked out of the courthouse.

The August sunshine warmed her bare legs. Heat seemed to radiate off the grey pavement, rising up in shimmering clouds of sweat and expectation. London commuters rushed by, brown satchels slapping rhythmically against their thighs. The air smelled like gasoline and freshly cut grass.

And there, standing at the bottom of the courthouse steps, was Oliver.

He looked up as she approached, a smile creeping over his face. His hair — now back to its sandy blond color — seemed to glow in the late afternoon sun. A suit jacket was slung over his shoulder, and he was holding a bouquet of white flowers.

"Hi, gorgeous."

She collapsed into his arms. "It's finally over. Thank god."

"And?"

"I'm not sure." Alicia nibbled her lip. "The judge hasn't decided yet. But Greg and his lawyer weren't looking very confident towards the end."

"Good." Oliver's grip tightened on her waist. "I don't want that bastard within ten feet of you ever again." His paused, looking at her hopefully. "Actually, how would you feel about having your own bodyguard? Or better yet, a team of bodyguards?"

"Bad."

He sighed. "I was afraid you'd say that."

She pulled back, meeting his blue eyes. "You know what, though?"

"What?"

"Regardless of how it all ends, I'm pretty damn proud of myself. For standing up and facing him. For finally putting an end to all of it." She shook her head. "A year ago, I never thought I'd be able to do it."

He kissed her forehead. "That's my girl."

Alicia took a step back, and Oliver offered her the bouquet. She studied the flowers — five soft white petals with a honey-yellow center — and smiled. "Star jasmine?"

"Well, I know that you like your stars."

"They're beautiful."

He winked. "Just like—"

"If you say you, Ollie, I swear I'll never speak to you again."

"Well," Oliver said dryly, slinging an arm over her shoulder, "I'm not going to finish that sentence, then."

They slid into an idling sedan. Brooks was already sitting in the passenger seat, wearing his usual leather jacket and holster. He lifted up his dark sunglasses, meeting her eyes in the rear-view mirror. "Hattie told me about the qualifiers for the Ladies Junior Open." He grinned. "Congratulations, Leese."

She flushed. "Thanks."

Alicia was going to kill Hattie. Kill her. She had phoned her friend a few days ago with the news, telling her — discreetly — that she had been accepted into the qualifiers in January. Hattie had sworn to secrecy, hung up the phone, and then proceeded to text absolutely everyone they knew with the news.

Alicia wouldn't be surprised if people on Mars had heard by now.

Oliver squeezed her hand. "She's going to be brilliant."

"Ollie!"

"What?" He shrugged. "You are."

She sighed. The trouble with being Oliver's girlfriend was that the press would give a play-by-play of her performance, regardless of whether it was brilliant or not. But at least she would get to see Mary during the qualifiers, Alicia reflected, slightly cheered. That was something to look forward to.

Alicia was living in London full-time now with Oliver, but she had become close with the Irish woman during her last few weeks in St Andrews. She had trudged to Mary's office a week after the tournament, her resignation letter in hand, only to have Mary crumple it up and chuck it into the bin.

"Now, listen here," Mary had growled. "If you think I'm going to give you the sack because some deranged man's been stalking you, Martinez, then you can feck right off."

So that was that.

Mary had also shooed off any paparazzi still tailing her, grimly batting at them with her plastic umbrella. It had even been Mary's idea for Alicia to visit the golf shop across the road from Steve's store, drawing the press — and more customers — into it.

"Serves the bastard right," Mary had said, her dark eyes gleaming. "First we ruin his business, then we burn down his house."

Alicia was unsure if she was joking.

"Leese?" Oliver asked.

She blinked. "Hmm?"

"Has Tess texted?"

Oliver sounded amused. It took Alicia moment to realize that he must have asked the question several times already, and her cheeks grew warm as she dove for her phone. Sure enough, Tess had sent a message ten minutes ago.

Just got here! I'm legit SO excited! xxx

"She just arrived." Alicia sighed. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"I mean, I did promise to take her backstage before a concert."

"But it's Tess."

"It'll be fine." Oliver squeezed her hand. "We're in a locked room surrounded by security guards. What could possibly go wrong?"

Alicia had never seen three boys look more frightened.

Tess was bouncing around the dressing room, gleefully picking up objects at random. A can of hairspray. A discarded plaster wrapper. A picture tacked to the mirror of Max and Ella wine tasting on a lake in Niagara. Tess paused as she picked up a white trainer, cradling it as if it was a small child.

"Hello, darling," Tess crooned. "Aren't you pretty?"

Rory leaned close to Alicia, dropping his voice. "Should I be concerned that she's cuddling with my shoe?"

She smirked. "Oh, Tess is just getting started."

"You're joking."

"I'm really not."

Tess carefully wrapped the shoe in tissue paper and then deposited it in her bag. She skipped towards the dresser next, her dark ponytail quivering with excitement. She snatched up a spray deodorant.

"Oh, my god," Tess breathed. "You use Dove, Max?" She examined the deodorant. "All of your fan blogs swear that you use Gillette. One girl even claimed to see cannisters in the dumpsters outside your hotel. Talk about fake news, am I right?"

Max looked alarmed. "Why the hell are people rifling through my bins?"

"It was just the one bin, I think."

"Oh." Max paused. "Still creepy, though."

Tess set down the deodorant, picking up a pair of red glasses. She turned to face Theo, who was slumped on a sofa, looking torn between terror and amusement.

"These are yours, aren't they?"

Alicia paused. There was something shy in her younger sister's voice; something unusually bashful. She flicked her eyes to Oliver, but he was still strumming his bass, oblivious to the exchange. Theo grinned.

"You can try them on, if you want."

Tess bit her lip. She popped them on her face, and Alicia snorted. The glasses were at least several sizes too big for Tess, giving the overall effect of a befuddled, red-eyed bug. Still, with the way that Tess was looking at herself in the mirror, you would think that Elton John was staring back at her.

"These are wicked!"

"Keep them." Theo shrugged. "I have plenty more."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Go on."

Tess squealed, doing a little dance in front of the mirror. Alicia caught Theo's eye. Thank-you, she mouthed. He grinned.

"What do you think?" Tess spun to face her. "Aren't they ace?"

"Totally," Alicia agreed. "Very eighties rock star." She kicked her legs up on a dressing table, turning back to the article on her phone. Then she smirked, flipping up her screen so that Oliver could see it. "Hang on. You won People's Sexiest Man Alive award?"

"Give me that!"

He abandoned his instrument, diving for the phone. Alicia sprung out of the chair, holding it aloft gleefully.

"Baby blue eyes," Alicia read aloud. "A smile warm enough to melt butter. You know who we're talking about, of course; it's the sexiest bassist in town, Oliver Hogarth, a man whose muscles make Hercules look like—"

"Alicia!"

Oliver sprang at her, and she sheltered behind Max, who smirked at her. She couldn't stop herself from giggling, though. God, he just made it so easy.

"Oh, that's not even the best one." Rory fastened his cufflinks. "You should find the YouTube clip where Ollie tries sardines for the first time. Now that's something."

Oliver scowled. "Ror!"

"What?"

"I just love Googling you, Ols," Alicia sighed, collapsing in a chair. "I learn the most fascinating things." She held up the phone again. "Did you know that there's a picture on the internet of you passed out on a party bus in Vegas?"

He closed his eyes. "Leese, I swear—"

There was a knock on the door.

They all turned to see Margaux stick her head through the door. Rory's girlfriend — and also their manager, Alicia had learned — was wearing a headset, her curly brown hair pulled up into a knot. Rory gave her a peck on the cheek.

"Is it time?"

"Yes." Her eyes darted around the room. "You all have your instruments? And you remember your opening places? And—"

"Margaux," Rory said, amused. "Breathe."

He placed his hands on his girlfriend's shoulders. Margaux blinked, as if remembering where she was. Then she smiled sheepishly. "Sorry. You know how I get before shows." And then, quieter, "Thanks, Ror."

"Always."

"Right." Margaux stepped back. "Alicia, Tess — you're with me. Let's go."

Alicia stood next to the curtain, her heart swelling.

Oliver was bathed in a blue stage light. He was grinning from ear-to-ear, his hands dancing lightly over the bass, plucking at the strings with an almost breathtaking speed. Everything happened in staccato. The roar of the crowd. The pulse of the music. The dizzying, electric camera flashes.

Alicia smiled. She wondered if she would have ever stopped running, if she hadn't met Oliver. If she would have ever slowed down.

Probably not.

Every ship needed its anchor. Every bird needed its nest. Things that were born to fly needed a reason to come down to earth, just as ground-dwelling creatures needed a reason to look up at the stars. Everything had its place.

And her place was right here.

With Oliver.

A/N: Only the epilogue to go, now!

What did everyone think of Tess meeting The Patriots? I was such a huge One Direction fan as a teenager, and I'm pretty sure I would have passed out if I met Harry Styles lol — anyone else a OneD fan?

Affectionately,

J.K.