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I grab my phone from the rice and check the messages. There are several from him, all unread. But then I see what I sent him in a drunken stupor. “Oh, God.” I slap myself on the forehead. “What I texted you before I dropped my phone... It’s so stupid! I’m so embarrassed...”

“It’s not stupid, baby.” He cups my cheek. “You were worried. I flew off the handle and got you worried.” He grabs my face with both hands. “You know I love you, right? You mean the world to me.”

My cheeks burn and my heart gallops, brimming with emotion. I wish I could look away, but he holds my face in both hands and won’t let me avert my eyes.

“I love you, too,” I finally whisper. My relief at the words being out washes away all embarrassment.

We wrap our arms around each other and hold tight, so tight, like we’re letting each other know that this is it, no one’s going anywhere. I enjoy listening to Joe’s heartbeat, rapid at first but then back to slow and steady, how I’m used to hearing it when we lie together, relaxed, at the edge of sleep.

“I’m sorry I made you worry,” he says.

“I will live. Just ... please don’t disappear on me when you freak out. You come to me when you freak out, okay? I’m the person who’s supposed to hold your crazy.”

“I will give you all my crazy,” he says thickly, grabs the back of my head and kisses me so voraciously, all teeth and tongue and forceful lips, that my knees buckle and my head starts to spin. Normally, Joe going feral would turn me on in no time at all, but the dizziness right now is not entirely due to a surge of passion.

“I wish I hadn’t gotten so drunk last night,” I say as I gently push Joe away. “It’s such a big moment, I feel like we should fuck in a big way to celebrate... But I’m really fighting the urge to puke.”

He laughs and kisses the top of my head. “No worries. We have all the time in the world. Right now, how about I get you some Gatorade and something salty to snack on, and we watch a comedy on Netflix?”

I pull away with mock dismay. “You propose the literal Netflix and chill?”

Joe chuckles. “I know. So quaint.”

I grab his head and kiss him hard. “I love you so fucking much.”

He grins and hugs me around the waist. “Me, too, baby. Me, too.”

Epilogue

Liz

About eighteen months later

It’s a Sunday in the middle of the football season, and the Minnesota Vikings are playing the Green Bay Packers. We are sitting around two joint tables at Hops & Curds, also known as the bar where Joe and I first met more than two years ago.

Joe, Bobby, and I wear the colors of Purple People Eaters and proudly represent Skol Nation here on enemy territory. The local Cheeseheads—Roxie, Trey, and Trey’s sister Taniyah—are here to cheer for the Packers.

Taniyah is a nurse and has a school-aged son. She was widowed when the boy was very young. She doesn’t have time to hang out with us very often, but today her mom is babysitting, so Taniyah is able to join us and let loose. She looks a lot like Trey, tall and beautiful with glowing dark skin and long, graceful limbs. She wears glasses and pulls her hair back in a tight bun, but the seriousness she cultivates cannot hide how gorgeous she really is. She’s also an avid Packers fan and has a quick, biting wit, particularly hilarious when she’s got a couple of beers inside her. Like she does now.

Trey and Bobby aren’t together anymore. I was a bit heartbroken about it, probably more than either one of them, by all appearances. They remain very good friends. I’m not really sure what happened, although I do have a theory or two, but Bobby keeps saying they agreed it’s for the best. I suppose he’ll tell me if and when he wants to.

Trey continues to be a great friend to Joe, and still the best-dressed man I’ve ever met. I don’t see him as much as I used to since he and Bobby split up, but Joe often regales me with tales of Trey’s work hijinks.

Bobby works at the service center associated with a large car dealership here in town. He makes good money, has his own place, and seems quite content. He’s almost fully reverted to a wardrobe of jeans, flannels, and trucker hats, but with an occasional flare of style. He’s made new friends and goes out all the time, but I still see him about once a week, which makes me happy.

Mom and Dad have since come around—well, sort of—regarding Bobby’s sexual orientation, but, like me, Bobby’s never going back.

Mickey is the only one left working for Dad. He’s still not married to Emily.

Roxie is Roxie. She’s the best, most loyal friend anyone could have, and I love her to death, but sometimes wish she’d take herself more seriously, and make others take her seriously, too. She certainly does that at work, but not in her personal life. She got promoted to manager last year, and immediately bought a condo and not one, but two cats. She took to decorating her place with the ferocity she pours into everything.

Joe and I are disgustingly happy.

We got engaged in August of last year, on the anniversary of our first meeting, which is also when he moved in with me into what was once Melanie’s place. Joe let Bobby take over his bachelor-pad lease.

We got married earlier this year, in May, in a small ceremony with Roxie as the maid of honor and Trey as the best man. Bobby, Taniyah, and a handful of people from work were in attendance. We went on a two-week honeymoon in Spain and bought a condo across the hall from Roxie.

Joe and I both still work at Qpik, but I’m also working on my Masters in Education part-time online. For now, I’m happy doing what I do, and plan to move into teaching in a few years’ time.