Epilogue
EPILOGUE
LARK - 5 YEARS LATER
“Where the hell is he?” I mumble to myself, checking the time on my phone for the millionth time. It wasn’t the smartest idea to schedule a grand opening in the month of October, but to be fair, the beginning of the season wasn’t looking very promising for the Fury. I should’ve known better than to count them out, since an unexpected run for the World Series is why I’m trying to hold off a little longer, even though people are waiting. My husband wouldn’t be happy if I did this without him being here to cheer me on.
After a long engagement, Ace and I tied the knot this past February, right before pitchers and catchers had to report for spring training. We didn’t feel like there was a need to rush after how fast everything happened leading up to his proposal, so we slowed it down. I moved into his apartment, enrolled back in school, and graduated with my master’s just a handful of months ago. Since then, I’ve been working to open my practice right outside of Daytona.
It seems like just yesterday that I was telling Ace about my dream to become a sex therapist. I was reluctant at first because I had been told so many times that it was a disgraceful career choice and that I’d be an embarrassment to my family if I followed through. But he didn’t just accept it—he encouraged me every step of the way. There were moments over the last five years that I wanted to quit. The work felt impossible, and I doubted myself on more than one occasion. But there, in my weakest moments, he was my strength, holding me above water when I felt like I was drowning.
Last year, I almost put things on hold to take care of him when he tore his meniscus in a game. He was laid up in bed for a while after surgery, and my only concern was making sure he was okay. Some nights, I’d check on him and deliver pain medication between study sessions. I lost count of the number of practice quizzes I took in my car outside the physical therapy clinic—but, in the end, we made it work, and here we are.
“Sorry, Sweets. Practice ran late. I got here as fast as I could,” he says, running up to me and pressing a chaste kiss to my cheek. He looks delicious in a pair of gray sweatpants and a tight white t-shirt, the wet tips of his freshly showered hair sticking out from under his backwards Fury hat.
Still fuck-all hot.
“It’s okay,” I reply, wrapping my arms around his waist and breathing in his fresh scent. The nerves I’ve been feeling since I woke up this morning fade away, and suddenly, I’m excited to get this thing going. “We should probably get started. The people from the Chamber of Commerce and some reporters have been here waiting.”
He looks around nervously. “Can we hold off a few more minutes?”
“Why?” I ask, scrunching my nose. Something fishy is going on, and as always, I’m sure Ace is at the helm.
“Ummm…” he trails off, making me tilt my head slightly as I try to figure him out. But before I can, his eyes light up, and an ear-to-ear grin spreads across his face. I turn, looking toward whatever’s caught his gaze, finding several expensive vehicles pulling into the lot. The crowd turns to watch, excited whispers filling the warm Florida air as Jackson, Hawk, Riggs, Monroe, Taylor, Brent—or Friggle, as he’s also known—and both Mrs. and Mr. Durst emerge, making their way toward the front of the building. Looking up at my husband, I smile excitedly, so happy that our Fury family could make it on such a special day. I know it’s a busy time of year for them, so I was afraid to ask. I should’ve known Ace wasn’t going to let that fly.
“Yes, my little sex goddess!” Monroe yells, running up with her hand on her swollen belly. Riggs has done a pretty phenomenal job of proving me right about that suspected breeding kink, since they’re now expecting baby number three. “I’m so proud of you!”
“Thank you,” I reply on a laugh. She’s been my comic relief over the last five years, always knowing exactly how to lighten things up when they seem too heavy. I consider her to be one of my closest friends, and I’m grateful to have her in my life.
One by one, the others give their well wishes and hugs, with Mr. Durst saving his for last. When Ace told me what he said at the graduation about not letting anyone come for his players, he wasn’t kidding. I’m not saying he had a direct hand in Dean Dawson resigning shortly after Ace was awarded his passing grade in Human Sexuality—but I’m not saying he didn’t, either. We’ll never know for sure, but this man is a true gift to the lives of every player who’s ever played for him, and all of their loved ones alike.
“I knew you could do it, sweetheart,” he says, tears pricking at my eyes as he takes my hand in his and squeezes. I’ve had many deep conversations with him about my hopes and goals, and he was always supportive, telling me what a difference I’d make in the future.
“Thank you, Randy,” I say softly, using the name he insists we call him. “I couldn’t have done it without you all.”
“Let’s fucking go, baby!” Ace shouts as the guys whoop loudly, just like they do before every game. I roll my eyes playfully, walking toward the front of my new practice and stepping behind the podium.
“Thank you all for coming today,” I begin. “Five years ago, I was unsure if I’d ever have a purpose. My life was changing, and I was full of resentment toward the people who told me that my dreams were worthless. I was on a path to carrying that heavy burden with me forever, not realizing that it was breaking my spirit. But then someone told me I’d be the best sex therapist there ever was, and that weight began to lift, until I was finally strong enough to let it go and allow myself to be happy.
“Happy really isn’t the right word for what I am today. I have a husband who’s supported me through all my good and bad days, parents who—although they couldn’t be here today—taught me that it’s always okay to make mistakes as long as you put yourself first in the end, and a found family here in Daytona that will drop whatever they’re doing at any time just to lend a helping hand or a shoulder to cry on. I’m blessed beyond words to have them by my side as I embark on this new adventure. So, without further ado, I’d like to welcome you all to the Dr. Lark Mathers Sex and Intimacy Center.”
The crowd claps, and our friends cheer as I pick up the giant scissors, cutting the bright red ribbon that stretches from one side of the door to the other. It floats to the ground, and I exhale a relieved breath, because I’m officially open for business. Stepping out of the way, I let people funnel inside, watching as they take in the beautiful interior. I chose everything, from the marble flooring to the soft, contemporary light fixtures—all of which give the place a calming quality as soon as you step inside.
“Congratulations, boss ,” Hailey says with a wink, playfully pinching my cheek as she walks past.
“I told you not to call me that!” I reply, which earns me a very sly middle finger hidden behind the clipboard in her other hand. She was a no-brainer when it came to finding someone that I could trust to manage this place. I knew she wasn’t happy at the college, and I wanted to give her the opportunity to work somewhere that provided comfort, security, and a fifteen-minute grace period for her morning coffee runs. After everything she’s done for me, and the friendship we’ve built, I couldn’t imagine not bringing her along.
Just as I go to follow everyone, a large hand wraps around my wrist, gently tugging me back outside. I’m spun around and pushed up against the white brick wall as Ace drops a passionate kiss to my lips. I sink into it, letting him massage my tongue with his until I’m breathless, and he finally pulls away.
“What was that for?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I just wanted to tell you again how proud I am to see our last name in big, bold letters on the front of your building.” I smile, remembering the threat I tossed at Gail all those years ago in her office. I wanted to do it to spite her, but what I have now is so much better. Knowing he’s on my team, no matter what I do, is the greatest gift I’ve ever received.
He may have just been an impulsive college student when I met him, but he taught me how to live and love unapologetically—and I’m thankful every day that he chose me as his forever.
Keep reading for the prologue of Double Play, book three of the Daytona Fury series…