Page 41

epilogue

Two Years Later: Sunday of Labor Day Weekend

Holky

The kitchen smelled like roasted garlic, caramelized onions, and whatever witchy blend of herbs Nana had snuck into the potato salad. Afternoon sun spilled across the counter in hazy gold ribbons, and the heat rolling off the oven made everything shimmer. Frank Sinatra, Nana’s favorite, crooned softly in the background, and the only other sounds were the rhythm of Nana’s knife against the cutting board and the occasional clink of ceramic bowls as she worked her magic.

Chuck stood a few feet from her, pretending he wasn’t eyeing the coleslaw like a starving bear. He edged half a step closer, trying to be casual, and Nana snapped her fingers without even turning around.

“Don’t even think about it, Charles Madison.”

He flinched like she’d tased him. “You weren’t even looking. How do you always know?”

“I’ve known you all your life.” Her knife glided through a tomato like it owed her money. “I don’t need to look.”

I leaned against the opposite counter with my arms crossed, trying to appear innocent. My hair was damp from my post-yardwork shower, and I couldn’t stop smiling at the two of them. “Would now be a bad time to mention I already stole one of the little tomatoes?” I asked, popping the last half into my mouth with no shame at all.

Nana turned, knife still in hand, and narrowed her eyes. “I know. I let it slide.”

Chuck shook his head. “Why do you let him do it, but not me? I’m your grandson.”

“Because Nate carried in all the groceries. Where were you?”

He scoffed. It was barely audible, but the hook in Nana’s smile told me she heard it too.

“You know I was in the shower,” he said. “I’d just finished working out.”

“Still means he carried in the groceries.”

Chuck gave in and kissed her cheek. “I’m glad you appreciate my man so much.” Then he turned to me, mock scowling. “You’re a food thief. That’s the standard now?”

“It’s not theft if it’s charming.”

He grabbed a tomato and popped it into his mouth. “Was that charming too?”

“I ought to kick both your butts,” Nana said. “If I didn’t know this was all an act, I’d say you two share a single brain cell and no boundaries.”

Chuck grinned. “You love it.”

She didn’t answer, but she didn’t argue either, which was a “yes” in Nana-speak. I nudged Chuck with my hip. “She didn’t say no.”

He bumped me back, then slipped an arm around my waist. “Because she loves me more.”

“Not a chance. I built her a house in the backyard.”

“Because I talked you into it.”

“Boys.” Nana’s voice cut through the air. “Go set up the drinks station before I swat you both with a wooden spoon.”

Chuck turned to the fridge and glanced at me over his shoulder. “I miss the days when she made me cookies and called me her model grandson.”

“You were twelve,” she said. “You had a halo back then.”

“I still have one.” He pulled out two cases of beer and set them on the counter. “But now it’s held up by my horns.”

We all cracked up while Nana stirred the beans.

“I love you both,” she said, “but if either of you touches the deviled eggs before the guests arrive, I’ll give all the leftovers to Riley.”

Chuck gasped. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would,” she replied with alarming calm. “I believe that boy eats out for every meal.”

Chuck turned to me, eyes wide. “We’d better behave.”

“You’re not wrong.” I picked up one of the beer cases. “Let’s get these on ice.”

Outside, the late summer air was thick with the smells of cut grass and charcoal waiting to be lit. The garden looked good—smaller than it had been before we built the cottage for Nana, but still bursting with life. Tomatoes hung on the vine, and the herbs smelled wonderful.

“I’m glad it cooled off,” Chuck said. “Today’s perfect for a cookout.”

We knelt beside the big, galvanized tub and started arranging bottles and ice. About halfway through, Chuck leaned in and brushed a quick kiss across my lips.

“Not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?”

“Can’t I kiss you because I love you?” He trailed a finger down my arm. “I also love how much you care about Nana. Thanks for building the cottage so she could live here. That meant the world to her and me.”

I stopped pouring ice into the tub and reached for his hands. “You don’t need to thank me. I love her, babe. She’s been amazing to me since that first Thanksgiving when we met. I know you’re her grandson, but she treats me like I’m hers too. She’s…” I swallowed. “She’s the mom I never really had. I was telling Dr. Goodman last week how Nana gives me balance. She’s helped me believe I’m worthy of the kind of love parents give their kids.”

Chuck gave me the soft, goofy smile that always wrecked me. “You are worthy of it, and I love you more every single day.”

He kissed me again—a real one this time—and I sank into it, remembering all the ways I was different now than before we met. I was better, calmer, and exponentially happier. So much of that was because of him.

When we pulled back, he looked into my eyes. “It was still a generous thing to do, building a place for her. Thank you.”

As wonderful as the moment had been, things were getting a little heavy, considering a bunch of our loveable asshole teammates were due soon. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, even if the cottage did take up half the garden.”

Chuck rolled his eyes. “I know how much you love working out here, but we still have the biggest garden around. There’ll be ten of us tonight, and we’ll have room for ten more.”

I held out a hand, tipping it back and forth. “Maybe seven.”

He snorted. “Whatever. Let’s finish this and check if Nana needs anything else. I don’t want her giving the leftovers to Riley.”

* * *

The grill was hot, the air was balmy, and the backyard buzzed with the laughter that came from too many hockey players trying to out-chirp each other over the sound of old-school hip-hop. Party lights sparkled overhead and threaded through the lower branches of the red maples, making the garden glow. The table was loaded with Nana’s masterpieces, and the beer tub was half-empty. This was summer’s last stand before training camp started next week.

Chuck had manned the grill with Gabe and Harpy flanking him like sous-chefs, and everyone cheered when they brought the last round of burgers to the table. Nana had been holding court, armed with her razor-sharp humor and lack of tolerance for anyone sneaking seconds before the three chefs made their first plates.

“Aidan Riley, if you so much as look at that potato salad again before the grillers get some, I’ll send you home with no dessert.”

Riley put both hands in the air, grinning. “Sorry, Nana. I was just admiring it. That paprika looks real fine tonight.”

“You’re not fooling anyone with that pretty smile,” she said, making the whole table roar.

Logan elbowed Brody. “I told you, she’s immune to his charm. Only person on Earth.”

“Besides me,” Gabe said, dropping into the seat on the other side of Brody.

Logan pointed his beer bottle toward Chuck and me. “Are we not going to talk about how fucking domestic these two are? They’ve got matching guest towels in the bathrooms, twinkle lights strung up everywhere, and an herb garden that smells like a spa. It makes me think of a gay Hallmark movie.”

“I am not in a Hallmark movie,” I said. “There’s way too much swearing around here for that.”

Chuck grinned as he put a perfectly charred patty on a sesame bun. “And not enough reindeer.”

“I don’t know,” Luca said. “I caught you humming along to Sinatra when we got here. That’s dangerously close to a 1950s housewife.”

“Excuse you.” Chuck didn’t look up. “I am so far from being Nate’s housewife.”

Logan snorted. “I can guess what that means.”

“What’s wrong with being a housewife, anyway?” Nana asked. “The world used to be different, and I was a housewife for a while.”

“Sorry,” Luca said. “I guess that was out of line.”

“You bet your ass it was,” Nana said.

Riley grinned. “Nana, who’s the bigger pain in your butt, Dog or Holky?”

She didn’t hesitate. “Depends. Today Chuck’s ahead, but it’s still early evening.”

Chuck gasped. “Traitor.”

“Don’t sass me. You still haven’t brought out the iced tea.”

“You hear that?” Harper asked, elbowing Luca. “Nana’s keeping score.”

Luca swallowed a sip of beer. “Someone has to.”

“The fuck does that mean?” Chuck asked. “The only thing I do that anyone needs to keep up with is play hockey. Something I do very well, if I say so myself.”

“Modesty, Chuck,” Nana said. “Just because you won that best player trophy doesn’t mean you get to lord it over everybody.”

I laughed. “That’s right, babe. Winning the Calder was amazing, but you’re not a rookie anymore.”

Chuck flipped me off. “You could’ve brought the tea out here. I was busy at the grill.”

“And you did a terrific job.” I flicked his earlobe. “But let’s be honest. Nana asked you to bring it.”

“Fuck off. Nobody wants it anyway. Even Nana’s drinking beer.”

As if on cue, Abby got up and handed her another bottle, then got one for himself. “I am here for burgers. And to see if Chuck and Nate kiss in front of everyone so Logan chokes on beer.”

Logan scowled. “Once. That happened one time .”

“Very dramatic,” Abby said. “You flailed.”

“Did not.”

Riley, sitting beside Logan, snickered. “I hate to say it, blond boy, but you did. It was like watching a tall goose panic in slow motion.”

Laughter exploded, and after we quieted, Chuck looked around. “It’s damn good to have everyone here. Between weddings, vacations, and half the team pretending they know how to golf, we’ve barely seen each other all summer.”

“I’ve missed you guys,” Gabe said. “But next week, it’s back to the grind.” He lowered his voice to a stage whisper. “And back to seeing Holky’s ugly mug every day.”

I put a hand to my chest, pretending to be scandalized. “Excuse me? Go straight to hell. Everyone knows that except for Chuck, I’m the best-looking man on the roster.”

That earned a round of groans and boos.

I shot Chuck an accusing glare. “You’re not defending me? You’re the one who’s always telling me how gorgeous I am.”

He looked into my eyes, and all the noise dropped away. “You said ‘except for Chuck,’ but that’s not true. You’re breathtaking.”

My heart stuttered, and I was about two seconds from melting into a puddle when Abby wrecked the moment with a loud, “So sweet. Now kiss for us, lovebirds.”

Still riding high on Chuck’s words, I reached for him. The moment started soft and went hot enough to have people clearing their throats. Who the hell cared? These guys had all witnessed our first kiss on that trip to Minnesota.

Surprisingly, no one heckled us, and we slid back into chirping like the moment had never happened. Brody caught heat for his new haircut that made him look like he was trying to be a teen idol. Riley got torched for his outrageous Hawaiian shirt that could’ve doubled as a traffic signal. And Logan took a few jabs for going off the grid for a full month before reappearing with a suspicious tan and no explanations.

Chuck leaned into me and brushed a kiss to my temple. “You doing okay, sweets?”

I looked around at our friends—our family —and let it wash over me. The string lights overhead cast a soft, golden glow as laughter rose and fell like a tide. Chuck’s hand found mine and squeezed, and there was nothing else in the world more perfect.

“Yeah,” I said, my voice husky. “Never better.”

Two years earlier, I would have second-guessed every smile and laugh around me. I’d spent most of my life expecting people to leave once they saw the real me—too intense, too messy, too broken—and I almost lost Chuck because of it.

Fortunately, I’d had the sense to double down on my therapy with Dr. Goodman, and she helped me peel back the bullshit and see things for what they were. It had been painful facing my demons, and it still was, but I was nowhere near done putting in the hard work. I was worth it, and so was Chuck.

He wasn’t simply my boyfriend; he was the love of my life, and he wasn’t going anywhere. And these crazy guys around us weren’t merely teammates; they were our family. They’d accepted me long before I learned how to accept myself.

Now, as I watched them razz each other and sneak extra dessert when they thought Nana wasn’t looking, I didn’t feel like an outsider trying to earn his place. I belonged, and that feeling was pure magic.

Monday, the Next Day

Chuck and I had taken the boat out that morning, letting the late-summer sun soak into our skin as we drifted on Lake Erie. When we got home, sunburned and ready to crash, we stripped and crawled into bed for a nap. We enjoyed the sweet, heavy kind of sleep that only comes after a perfect day on the water. There was no fooling around, but I hoped for some action later.

Growling stomachs woke us after a couple of hours, and since Nana had driven to Ithaca to spend the day with friends, we ordered dinner from Scionti’s and wandered into the garden to wait for delivery. The sun was going down, and we turned on the twinkle lights overhead. They wrapped us in a glow as magical as our lives.

We danced while we waited. Chuck had mostly succeeded in turning me from a wildebeest into a man with rhythm, and we always joked we were practicing for our wedding. Sometimes we went wild with EDM, bumping into furniture and making Nana laugh, but slow dances were the best. Tonight, we chose “Love Is Here to Stay,” one of Nana’s old favorites that had become ours too. It wasn’t modern, but it said everything we felt much better than we could.

In the twilight, we swayed under the stars, surrounded by the perfume of phlox and roses. I let Chuck lead, breathing him in, resting my head on his shoulder, and surrendering to the strength of his arms. My mind drifted back to before I knew him, when I’d been so lost. Unloving and unloved, I’d lived for hockey because it was the only good thing I’d ever had. No one knew the real me because I never let them close. How could I, when I didn’t even know who I was and was too scared to find out?

Somehow, Chuck had found me anyway. He peeled back every layer and loved what he discovered underneath. Hockey still mattered, it always would, but Chuck was my greatest win. He was my real home, and it was time he knew it.

It was wild to think how far we’d come, especially considering we’d both spent most of our lives convinced we were straight. We’d told ourselves what we felt for other men was only admiration, competition—or nothing at all. About a year ago, we finally admitted it: bisexual fit us, not because we needed a label, but because it made sense.

We still noticed beautiful women, but that only meant we were human. There was a big difference between admiring a body and craving a soul, and I craved Chuck’s every damn day. We weren’t simply in love. We were two guys who’d stumbled into something bigger than either of us had ever expected, and now we’d fight like hell to keep it.

After dinner, we went inside, and Chuck headed for the basement to pick a movie. I stopped by our bedroom, my heart thudding as I grabbed what I’d need later. It felt heavier than it should have, as if it knew the stakes.

Chuck had promised to choose something romantic, and when I made it downstairs, Bros was already queued up. Of course he chose that one. We’d seen it so many times we could quote half the lines without thinking. Chuck patted the cushion beside him, and I sank down, curling into his side.

At first, everything felt easy. We laughed, said the dialogue with the actors, and teased each other about who was the bigger Billy Eichner fan. But as the movie rolled on, I couldn’t stop fidgeting. I fingered the hem of my shirt and practically wore out the legs of my shorts from running my hand across them. Sweat prickled at my hairline and crawled down my back, and when my stomach clenched into a hard knot, I wondered if the shrimp scampi had been a mistake.

Is it too soon? What if he says no? Oh fuck—what if he doesn’t want to?

I tried to tell myself there’d be no harm in giving things a little more time, maybe ten years or so, but although my jumpy nerves practically broke out in a cheer, the rest of me screamed a loud “no.” I didn’t want to wait any longer. I loved Chuck, and I wanted forever with him.

First, I had to get myself together and figure out how to put my thoughts into words. I’d never been good at that, and I wished like hell I’d written something and memorized it. Fuck that, though. The only things I’d ever been able to memorize were playbooks and code words to use on the ice. Unfortunately, feelings didn’t come with diagrams and drills.

“I have to use the bathroom,” I said, untangling myself from Chuck’s warmth. “Be right back.”

He nodded, keeping his eyes on the screen.

I ducked into the small bathroom off the laundry. After taking care of business, I stared at the sink before splashing cold water on my face. It helped, but only a little.

Back in the game room, Chuck was still laughing at the movie, his face soft and relaxed. Meanwhile, my stomach was doing jumping jacks. I paced slow laps along the side wall—back and forth, again and again. Each turn, I told myself, would be the last, but I kept going.

“Did I do something wrong?”

I stopped mid-step and faced him. He’d paused the movie in the middle of a bright, sunlit scene, and the glow from the projector spilled around him like a halo. He wasn’t laughing anymore. His brow was drawn tight, and he was chewing his bottom lip, something he only did when he was worried.

“No,” I said. “Why would you think that?”

“You haven’t been yourself since halfway through dinner. You’ve been quiet, twitchy even. Now you’re wearing a hole in the carpet and mumbling to yourself.”

“I wasn’t mumbling,” I said, although I probably had been.

“Yes, you were. Something about needing to tell me and stop being afraid.” His voice softened. “What’s going on, sweets? Are you mad at me?”

I felt bad for making him worry. “Not at all. I… Hold on.”

I rushed to the laundry room where I’d stashed it, heart thudding as I grabbed what I needed. My hands were shaking—no turning back now. I hurried back to him.

“What’s that?” he asked, eyeing what I was holding. “The underwear?”

The underwear referred to the now infamous pair of neon blue boxer briefs. They had become a favorite toy that added unexpected spice to our love life.

His eyes sparked with interest. “You want to do it down here?”

“No… Well, yes, but not yet. I had to get them because…”

Fuck being nervous and acting like a bonehead.

Before I could second-guess myself again, I dropped to one knee and grabbed his hand. “Happy endings… I never thought they were meant for me. Growing up, I figured I’d always be the guy left standing in the rain.” I swallowed hard and made myself keep going. “Before you, I was lost—confused and depressed, trying to survive one day at a time. Then you crashed into my life and spilled coffee on me. Nothing’s been the same since.”

A wobbly smile tugged at his mouth, and he squeezed my hand.

I took a big breath and went on. “The day you moved in here, all wide-eyed and goofy, everything changed. So much for being straight, because after that, I never wanted anyone but you.” Emotion clogged my throat, but I powered through. “Now, I can’t imagine a day without you. You haven’t just loved me. You’ve helped me rebuild my life and become the man I always wanted to be.”

Chuck’s forehead relaxed, and his eyes went wide and shiny. “Nate?”

“You’ve made me believe I’m worth loving. I used to be afraid I’d screw that up, but now the only way I can screw up is by not asking you this tonight.”

I let his hand go and held up the underwear, unrolling it to reveal a small robin’s-egg blue box. He gasped when I opened the lid and revealed the ring. Nana had laughed when I called it badass and beautiful, but it really was. The platinum sparkled in the light, and the emerald-cut diamond caught every glimmer and threw it back with the same dazzling force as one of Chuck’s smiles.

He put a hand over his mouth and moved his head back and forth between me and the ring.

“You make me the happiest man in the world, Chuck. I love you more than anything. Will you marry me?”

His lips trembled, and two fat tears rolled down his cheeks as he trailed his fingers across my lips. “You helped me too. I was a fucked-up mess when we met, lonely as hell and trying to laugh my way through it. You made everything brighter. I may not have known what to do with my feelings for a while, but I knew I didn’t want to be without you. I love you, Nate.”

His words were everything I’d wanted to hear, but the knot in my stomach didn’t budge. “That’s beautiful, but you didn’t answer me.”

His eyes went wide—and then a grin, that grin, burst across his face like sunlight. “Yes,” he said, then repeated it louder, shouting like it needed to echo off the walls. “ Yes! Let’s get married tomorrow if we can.”

Relief hit me like a crashing wave, and as my stomach relaxed, I gave him what was probably the dumbest, goofiest, most ridiculous grin of my life. “Put out your hand.”

He hesitated, looking a little dazed, and I jabbed a finger at him. “Now. Before you change your mind.”

Laughing, he did as I asked. “I won’t change my mind. You asked, so now you’re stuck with me.”

“That’s the best thing I ever heard.” I slid the ring on his finger, and he held it up so we could see how it caught the light. “As much as I loved your hand already,” I whispered, “it’s even better now.”

He tilted his head, and his grin turned wicked.

“What?” I asked. “Why are you looking?—”

He launched himself off the couch and tackled me to the floor, landing on top. Our eyes met, and we both hummed while he licked the corners of my mouth, then took my lower lip between his teeth and tugged. When he pressed his warm lips against mine, I opened to him, enjoying our tongues’ slow dance while he combed his fingers through my hair. We ground against each other, but by silent agreement, kept it light. I’d brought the underwear downstairs, and we both wanted to make the most of it.

When we drew apart, we locked eyes again and broke into a loud cackle. Anyone watching might have thought we were crazy as we rolled around, wrestling and vying for the advantage even though we both knew I’d let him win.

And I did. We kissed again, and when we came up for air, Chuck pressed his forehead to mine. “You brought the underwear.”

“Yeah. We’re going to play with it, right?” My heart was already racing.

“Goddamn right we are. You bring lube, too?”

“Like I’d go without it. I brought it down earlier and hid it under the couch.”

We went quiet, and when I spoke, my voice was choked with emotion. “I know we’ve said it already, but I love you, babe.”

“Love you too. We’re going to have fun every day for the rest of our lives.”

The rest of our lives. Boy, did that sound amazing. It would hopefully be a long time, and I was certain that, wherever fate took us, we’d be okay. Things wouldn’t always be perfect, but we’d be together. That’s all that would ever matter.