Chapter 47 Juliet
Juliet
Four months later, people fill our apartment from wall to wall, and I’ve never loved the chaos more.
Hunter’s teammates sprawl across every available surface, mixed in with my girls, who showed up with wine and attitude in equal measure. The noise is incredible. Laughter, clinking glasses, overlapping conversations, and Jett’s terrible attempt at karaoke in the background.
Scout’s on the couch with Wren and Ivy, laughing about something. Across the room, Silas is definitely not watching her, which means he absolutely is. Scout throws back her head, cackling. Silas’s expression tightens and his fists clench. If his posture got any more rigid, he’d snap in half.
What is going on there? I make a note to ask Hux about it later. There’s definitely a vibe between those two.
I stand in the kitchen, ostensibly checking on the lasagna but really just taking it all in. Watching Hunter’s teammates rally around him without hesitation. The Patrick drama is old news now, barely mentioned except as a proof that Hunter’s the man who stands up for people he loves.
I watch him with his brothers across the living room.
Silas claps him on the back while saying something that makes Hunter throw his head back and laugh.
Jett makes some dry comment that has them both grinning.
Hunter doesn’t have to be the loudest or the angriest to earn respect. They trust him. Even without his fists.
“You look happy.” Ivy says, appearing beside me with an empty wine glass.
“I am happy.”
“You deserve it.”
She refills her glass and heads back into the fray, but not before squeezing my shoulder.
The evening passes in a blur of food and laughter. I help serve dinner, floating between groups, pouring wine, listening to Grayson’s ridiculous story about a broken stick and a mascot that apparently terrorized him for three periods.
For the first time in my professional life, I don’t feel like an outsider in a man’s world. This is my world too. The strategy, planning, and wins are all mine. I’m not hiding behind being perfect. I’m just being myself.
Hunter catches my eye from across the room where he’s deep in conversation with Ryan about defensive positioning. The look he gives me makes my knees feel weak and my stomach flip in the best possible way.
After everyone leaves and we’ve cleaned up the worst of the mess, we collapse onto the couch together. I’m curled against his side, my feet tucked under me, feeling pleasantly tired and wine-warm.
“That was fun.” I say.
“Yeah, it was. I enjoy having everyone here.”
“Me too. It felt like...”
“Like what?”
“Like home. Like family.”
He’s quiet for a moment, his fingers tracing patterns on my arm.
“Juliet?”
“Yeah?”
“I want to marry you.”
The words hang in the air between us, simple and profound at the same time.
“Is that a proposal?” I ask, trying to keep my voice light even though my heart is racing.
“It’s a statement of intent. The proposal will be better. I promise.”
“Will it involve my ring?”
“Unless you want a bigger one. I’ll get you the biggest fucking ring you’ve ever seen.”
“I don’t need the biggest ring, Hunter. I just need you.”
“You’ve got me. Forever. There’s no getting rid of me, Monroe.”
I bite my lip, her eyes sparkling. “Forever sounds pretty good.”
We sit in comfortable silence for a while, both of us processing the weight of what we’ve just said to each other.
Hux heaves a sigh. “I want a house.”
“What kind of house?” We’ve talked about moving eventually, but we haven’t really made any plans.
“A real one. With a yard. And space! And lots and lots of privacy. I want to fuck my wife and have her scream my name with no nosy neighbors poking their heads over the fence.”
“Hux!” I say, poking him in the ribs. “Besides, I like this place.”
“Monroe.” He catches my fingers and turns my hand over to kiss my palm. “I like this place too. But I want something that’s just ours. Something no one else has ever lived in.”
The idea sends a little thrill through me. “That sounds perfect.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I want a house with a yard. What I want are Sunday mornings in bed and late dinner parties. I want to wake up next to you for the rest of my life.”
He grins and suddenly stands up, scooping me off the couch in one smooth motion.
“What are you doing?” I yelp, laughing despite myself.
“We should go to Vegas. Tonight. I’ll book the tickets right now.”
“Hunter!”
“I’ll carry you through the chapel myself.”
“Easy, tiger,” I say, still laughing. “I’d love to marry you. I really would. But let’s plan it properly. I want to tell the girls. Let me pick out a dress. I want to do it right.”
“Right how?”
I shrug. “I want you. Everything else is just details.”
He sets me down on the bed and gathers me in his arms.
“I love you,” he announces, his nose in my hair. “I love you so much it’s probably illegal in several states.”
“I love you too. Even when you’re planning to kidnap me and drag me to Vegas in the middle of the night.”
“That was a romantic gesture.”
I laugh. “That was insanity.”
“Same thing.”
I kiss him then, deep and full of promise. When we break apart, he’s looking at me like I’m something miraculous he can’t quite believe is real.
“So we’re really doing this?” He asks.
“We’re really doing this.”
“Thank God for that.”
The next morning, I wake up to find Hunter already sketching at the kitchen table. He’s working on something new. Not his usual portraits or game scenes, not any letters, but architectural drawings. Floor plans.
Well, his idea of what architectural drawings should be. He’s done them all with a red pen. It’s endearing.
“What are you working on?” I ask, wrapping my arms around his shoulders from behind.
“Our house.” He grins. “I was thinking about what we want. Open kitchen, gigantic windows, space for a studio, plenty of bedrooms for babies.”
“Babies? You’re planning pretty far ahead.”
He shrugs a shoulder. “You told me you want a big family. I agreed. I don’t see any reason we should wait.”
“You’re impossible.” I shake my head at him. “House first, then wedding, then we can talk about babies.”
“I’m hurrying this process along as fast as you’ll let me.”
“I know, Hux.” I study the drawings. He’s thought of everything. A home office for me, built-in bookshelves, a patio for morning coffee. “It’s perfect.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. When do we start looking?”
“I already called a realtor. We have appointments this weekend.”
I laugh. “You don’t waste time.”
“I’ve wasted enough time in my life. I’m done waiting for things to happen.”
“I see that.” I steal a kiss because his lips are very close and extremely tempting. Though when are they not?
I think about how different things are now than they were a year ago.
How I went from trying to prove I belonged somewhere to actually belonging somewhere.
How I found not just love, but a home. A family. A future I never dared to imagine.
And how sometimes the best things in life come from the most unexpected places.
Sometimes they come from fake engagements and PR emergencies and falling for the one person you’re supposed to keep at arm’s length.
Love isn’t about being perfect for someone. It’s about being real with someone. And Hunter and I are as real as it gets.