Epilogue - Moose
T he relentless July sun beat down on Portland, transforming the city into a shimmering mirage of heat waves and sun-baked concrete. I wiped a bead of sweat from my brow as I positioned the last piece of patio furniture. Our backyard was modest—barely more than a postage stamp of grass and a small wooden deck—but it was ours. The thought still gave me a little thrill, even two months after moving in and just over two years since that tumultuous first season with the Lumberjacks.
I stepped back to survey my handiwork. Two weathered Adirondack chairs faced the setting sun, a small table nestled between them. String lights crisscrossed overhead, ready to bathe the space in a warm glow once twilight fell. It wasn't much, but it was cozy. Perfect for what I had planned.
My hand drifted to my pocket, fingers brushing against the small velvet box hidden there. My stomach did a somersault. After weeks of planning, agonizing over every detail, the moment was finally here. Well, almost here. First, I had to survive dinner without giving anything away.
The back door creaked open, and Finn's voice drifted out. "Moose? You out here?"
"Yeah," I called back, trying to keep my voice steady. "Just finished setting up."
Finn appeared on the deck, a platter of marinated chicken balanced in one hand, and a six-pack of our favorite local IPA dangling from the other. His curls were damp from his post-practice shower, and he wore nothing but a pair of cargo shorts riding low on his hips. The sight of him, relaxed and at home, never failed to make my heart skip a beat.
"Looks great out here," Finn said, his eyes sweeping over the yard. "Though I still think we should've splurged on that fancy grill you were eyeing."
I chuckled, moving to take the platter from him. "Baby steps. We've got plenty of time to turn this place into our dream home."
Finn's lips quirked into a smile. "Yeah, I guess we do." He set the beer down and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me close. "Can you believe it's been over two years since that first crazy season? Sometimes it feels like yesterday, and other times..."
"Other times it feels like we've been together forever," I finished, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "In the best possible way."
Finn laughed, the sound bright and clear in the summer air. "Wouldn't have it any other way, big guy." He pulled back, giving me a playful swat on the ass. "Now, let's get this chicken on the grill before we both melt out here."
I watched him saunter over to our modest charcoal grill, admiring the way the fading sunlight played across his shoulders. Two years together, and he still took my breath away. I settled into the Adirondack chair, the wood warm against my skin from the late afternoon sun. The air buzzed with the sounds of summer—cicadas droning, a neighbor's lawnmower rumbling in the distance, the gentle tinkle of wind chimes. I breathed in deeply, savoring the scent of freshly cut grass mingled with the aroma of Finn's famous grilled chicken wafting from the barbecue.
"Hey," Finn called out, his voice carrying easily across our modest backyard. "You want another beer?"
I grinned, watching him navigate the uneven grass in bare feet, a sheen of sweat glistening on his chest. "Nah, I'm good. But I wouldn't say no to a kiss."
Finn rolled his eyes, but I caught the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. He jogged over, leaning down to press a quick kiss to my forehead. "You're incorrigible, you know that?"
"It's part of my charm," I quipped, reaching out to snag his hand before he could retreat. "Sit with me for a bit?"
He hesitated, glancing back at the grill. "The chicken—"
"Can wait five minutes," I finished, tugging him gently onto my lap. He let out a surprised laugh, settling against me.
"Moose, what's gotten into you?" Finn asked, his bright eyes searching my face.
I shrugged, suddenly feeling a bit sheepish. "Just... happy, I guess. Can't a guy want to cuddle his boyfriend on a perfect summer evening?"
Finn's expression softened. He ran his fingers over my buzzed head, his touch soothing away the last of my nerves. "Of course he can. Though I have to say, you've been acting a little strange all day. Everything okay?"
I nodded, my throat suddenly dry. This was it—the moment I'd been planning for weeks. Quinn helped me make sure I didn't forget anything. I shifted, reaching into my pocket. "Actually, there's something I wanted to ask you."
Finn's brow furrowed in confusion, then his eyes widened as I produced the small velvet box. "Moose..."
"Finn Novak," I began, my voice wavering slightly. I took a deep breath, steadying myself. The weight of the moment pressed down on me, but Finn's warmth in my lap grounded me. I looked into his eyes, those bright, expressive eyes that had captivated me from day one.
"These past two years have been the best of my life. You've seen me at my worst, helped me through my darkest days, and somehow still look at me like I'm the best thing since composite hockey sticks."
Finn let out a chuckle, his eyes shining with unshed tears. His hand found mine, fingers intertwining.
I continued, my confidence growing with each word. "You make me laugh, you challenge me to be better, and you love me fiercely and without reservation. I can't imagine spending another day without you by my side."
A gentle breeze rustled through the trees, carrying with it the scent of summer flowers and distant rain. The fading sunlight painted Finn's face in warm hues, highlighting the constellation of freckles across his nose that I loved to count on lazy mornings.
"Remember that first Christmas, when we were both so scared and unsure?" I asked, my voice softening. "I never told you this, but that night, holding you, I knew. I knew you were it for me. Every day since then has only confirmed it."
Finn's breath caught in his throat, a single tear spilling down his cheek. I reached up to brush it away, my touch lingering on his skin.
"I love you. Not just the hockey star or the guy who can make me laugh until my sides hurt. I love all of you—your stubbornness, your insecurities, the way you hog the blankets and sing off-key in the shower. I love the life we've built together, and I want to keep building it, every day, for the rest of our lives."
With trembling fingers, I opened the box, revealing the simple platinum band nestled inside. The metal caught the last rays of sunlight, glinting with promise.
"Finn Novak, will you marry me?"
For a moment, Finn was silent, his gaze locked on the ring. The world seemed to hold its breath, the ambient sounds of our neighborhood fading away until all I could hear was the pounding of my own heart.
Then he looked up at me, a brilliant smile spreading across his face. It was the same smile that had dazzled me that first day in the locker room, only now it held the weight of our shared history, of countless moments both mundane and extraordinary.
"Yes," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "God, yes, of course I'll marry you!"
He lunged forward, capturing my lips in a searing kiss. I wrapped my arms around him, holding him close as joy surged through me. The box tumbled forgotten onto the grass as I poured everything I felt into that kiss—all the love, gratitude, and promise of our future together.
When we finally broke apart, both breathless and grinning, Finn rested his forehead against mine. His fingers traced the contours of my face, as if memorizing the moment by touch alone.
"I love you, Milo Moretti," he murmured, using my full name in a rare solemn moment. "Even if you did just propose while I'm sweaty and smell like chicken marinade."
I laughed, the sound bubbling up from deep in my chest. "Hey, I think you smell fantastic. Like summer and happiness and home."
Finn groaned, burying his face in my neck. "You're such a sap."
"Yeah, but I'm your sap," I retorted, pressing a kiss to his temple. "Forever and always."
As we sat there, tangled together in the fading sunlight, I marveled at how far we'd come. From tentative glances across a locker room to building a life together, facing our fears and insecurities head-on. It hadn't always been easy, but every struggle had been worth it to get to this moment.
The sound of sizzling pulled us from our reverie. Finn cursed, scrambling off my lap. "The chicken!"
I watched him dash back to the grill, shaking my head fondly. My fiancé—the word sent a thrill through me—ever the responsible one. As Finn fussed over our dinner, occasionally shooting me goofy grins over his shoulder, I felt a sense of peace settle over me. Whatever challenges the future held, he'd be at my side. And really, what more could a guy ask for?