Epilogue
IAN
TWO YEARS LATER
APRIL
I slide the roll of tape across the final box, sealing the seams shut.
Graduation was a week ago, but this was months in the making. I smile, tossing the tape dispenser into our tote bag for random supplies, and I step back to survey the scene.
The furniture is padded and wrapped, boxes are stacked, and it’s time to head out.
Three years of life at this trusty apartment are all packed up and ready to go.
Two and a half of those years have been spent with Callum, and that number is only going to go up.
“Are you finally done?” he asks, resting against the wall.
His hands are shoved in the pockets of some new gray jeans, and he’s wearing a T-shirt that he got in Greece when we visited last winter.
He knows how much I like that outfit, especially how the rich blue fabric molds to his frame and brings out his eyes, and he makes a point to wear that shirt whenever we do something special.
New clothes on the same lovable man I fell for in sophomore year. My chest still squeezes whenever I see him, calmer than when we first met, but I haven’t grown tired of gazing at his handsome face or his cute hair. I’m quite certain I never will.
“Yeah,” I say. “That was the last of my stuff.”
Callum walks over, smiling that familiar, heart-stopping smile of his, and he wraps his strong arms around me. “I can’t believe we’re leaving here,” he mumbles into my hair. “I should have tried staying for my master’s.”
“Right, but you decided to be a traitor instead and accept BUC’s offer.” I reach down and squeeze his ass for fun, and he snorts, shaking me in retaliation. The two of us are completely insufferable around each other, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
“In my defense, BUC gave me a bigger scholarship,” he says. “Besides, I didn’t want to deprive the Boston Falcons’ newest trainer of his much-needed morning hugs.”
“And I’m forever grateful for your sacrifice.”
All things considered, there’s very little that either of us are sacrificing; Callum’s off to BUC for a master’s in physical therapy, and I got a sweet gig as a junior trainer for Boston’s major league baseball team.
Still, I’m never going to rock BUC merch, and Callum isn’t allowed to wear any around me.
Maybe.
I might soften my stance—BUC gave the two of us a chance to share our dream in the same city, so credit is due where it’s due.
We're gonna live in my family’s brownstone in Back Bay, where we’ll be walking distance from school and work.
Callum is getting his own private study, I’ll get to use a sick-ass kitchen every day, and we’re finally getting a king-sized bed.
Yeah. New beginnings, but my god, I’m gonna miss college.
“This was a great place,” I say, scanning the box-filled room again.
Callum hugs me from behind and swings us both forward. “It sure was.” He plants a kiss in my hair, sending a familiar, ever-welcome buzz of affection down to my toes. “Lots of good memories, that’s for sure.”
I spin around to face him, and I trace his lopsided grin with my thumb before pressing my lips to his. The movers are gonna be here any second now, and as open as we are, PDA isn’t exactly something we’ve tried to do too often.
Nodding, I pull back. “Ready to make some more of those in Boston?”
“Oh yeah.” His eyes crinkle at the corners, and I get predictably lost in that mesmerizing sea of blue. “I can’t wait.”
Stepping aside, I grab my suitcase and open the door, letting him pass me before I head out behind him.
For the last time, I stick my key in this lock, twist it shut, and drop the key in a lockbox for the movers.
A few steps ahead, Callum is waiting, facing me and smiling with a small box of his things.
Huh. That’s the same plastic container he had when I first moved him into our place that first winter he was here. It’s a lot fuller now, carrying a lot more clothes and not nearly as much turmoil.
Callum and I have grown a lot over the years. We might have changed, but one thing hasn’t: we’re still perfect for each other. That might be a huge-ass cliché, but when I slide my fingers through his after we climb into the car, I feel nothing but confirmation.
Not a day goes by where I don’t adore the hell out of him, ever grateful for Callum falling into my life three Januaries ago. We don’t hide our affection for each other, and that’s a huge part of what makes us work—the two of us thrive when we know where we stand with each other.
I back us out of the parking lot and onto the street. Callum plays some music on the speakers, I hit the interstate, and we both sit back while cruise control takes over. College is over, and the rest of our lives stretch ahead.
Of course, nothing is a given. Life can go anywhere, but I know there’s nobody I’d rather face that fact with than Callum.