Epilogue
THREE MONTHS LATER
Oliver
The cottage was filled with the bubbling sound of voices and vibrant laughter as our housewarming party kicked into full swing. Not that the place was packed to the rafters, but our friends could make a lot of noise when they wanted.
“How’re you getting on in here?” Lane asked, sticking his head around the kitchen door, empty glass in hand.
“Good, just getting the last few bits out,” I said as I bent down to grab a tray out of the oven. I hadn’t meant to do quite as many nibbles as I’d done, but I still didn’t think there’d be any leftovers, even if it was slightly more beige buffet that gourmet M&S.
Sliding the tray with the last of the mozzarella sticks and vegetable samosas onto the top of the oven, I pushed the door shut with my foot. Lane appeared beside me, his fingers reaching for the food.
“It’s literally just come out the oven,” I said as he picked up a mozzarella stick. “It’ll be molten.” I didn’t want to nag, but I also didn’t want him to burn his tongue. Not when I had plans for it later.
Lane shrugged. “I’ll be fine. Besides, if I don’t have one now, I won’t get one.
As soon as I go out there, it’s like being attacked by a flock of bloody seagulls.
” He bit into the mozzarella stick and let out a little huff, then grabbed a second before I slid them onto a nearby plate with a little bowl of sweet chilli sauce.
“Do you think I’ve done enough?” I asked. “Maybe I should have done more.”
“If they want more after this, they can get some bloody chips on their way home,” Lane said. “Have you actually eaten anything?”
I nodded. “I’ve been picking as I go. That’s the best thing about being in here. I get first pick of everything. I even managed to get some of the tear-and-share bread.”
“I thought it looked wonky.”
“It was artistic,” I said with a knowing smile. “And one bit just got caught on the side of the pan as I got it out and ripped. Such a shame.”
“Really is. Good thing you were here to dispose of it.”
I snorted, and Lane grinned, reaching for one of the samosas. “Do you want a drink? There’s still a bit of that daiquiri mix Laurie made.”
“I think I’ll pass,” I said. “It sounded lethal.”
“Smells it too. You just walk past it and you’re drunk.” He chuckled. “I’m not sure how Noah’s still standing. He’s had two already. Alex keeps plying him with stodge to try and line his stomach.”
As if on cue, Alex scrambled through the door and made a beeline for the plate in front of Lane. “Hello. Goodbye. Thank you,” he said as he took the plate.
“Hey! I was eating those.”
“Noah is this close to being twenty-first birthday drunk,” Alex said. “Unless you want a repeat of that, you’ll let me have this and maybe find him a glass of water.”
“That bad? He’s only had two!”
“Turns out Laurie put two fucking bottles of rum in the daiquiris. That mix is ninety-nine percent booze.”
“How are you still standing then?” Lane asked. “You must’ve had about the same.”
“I’m a stubborn bastard. And I’m drunk as fuck. I’m just refusing to give in to it while Noah is three-sheets to the fucking wind.”
“Take that. I’ll get some water,” Lane said before biting into the samosa he’d managed to steal. Alex disappeared out the door, and Lane sighed. “It’s not even half-eight. How the fuck are they this wasted already?”
“Maybe Noah ought to go home. Or go and lie down somewhere. He can have one of the spare beds.”
“Might be an idea.” He grabbed a glass out of the cupboard and filled it with water. “Come on. Time to go and talk to people.”
We headed out of the kitchen and towards the cottage’s large living room where everyone had congregated.
Despite its size, we’d worked hard to make it feel cosy with big, comfortable sofas and a log burner that would be perfect for dark winter nights.
A bright red record player rested on top of a long sideboard made of repurposed wood and metal pipes.
Lane had put on an original Queen album that he’d dug up at a car boot sale, so the room’s chatter was threaded through with guitar solos and Freddie Mercury’s perfect vocals.
It had taken us a couple of months to get the cottage finished, so even though we’d moved in in the middle of August, we hadn’t wanted a housewarming until it was finished.
Lane had spent every minute of his spare time on various projects around the house, with and without my assistance.
The first thing he’d finished was my office because he’d insisted it was higher up on the priority list than anything else, even though I’d argued I was fine working at the kitchen table.
We’d picked out various bits for it, but the biggest surprise had been when he’d revealed he’d had a desk made for me by a carpenter he knew.
It was made of a similar repurposed wood as the sideboard with thick metal legs, drawers down one side, and a raised shelf on the top of the desk with little slots underneath for me to put things in.
I’d almost cried when I’d seen it because it was absolutely perfect.
I had cried when I’d seen the library.
The same carpenter had fitted the room with built-in floor-to-ceiling shelves that ran around three of the walls, complete with a ladder on a runner so I could roll from shelf to shelf.
He and Lane had even done a bit of fiddling with the door frame so the ladder ran across the top of it to reach the shelves on the other side, and as long as the door was shut, I could feasibly roll from one end of the bookcases to the other without stopping.
Lane had also added a low, padded window seat and a large armchair in the corner that was big enough for my six-foot-two frame to curl up in comfortably with a reading light just above it so I could stay in there as long as I wanted.
Not all the bookshelves were full yet, but they would be soon.
I was just trying to resist filling them as soon as possible because then I wouldn’t have room for more books in the future.
Although, the bookcases were deep enough for two rows of books on each shelf, so I didn’t think I’d run out of space for a while.
“There’s still some food left,” Lane muttered to me, pointing at the coffee table in the middle of the room. I saw a couple of pieces of tear-and-share bread, some cheese twists, and a couple of other bits scattered across various plates and platters. “I’m going to get some.”
“Get me some too.”
“I’m just going to get it all. The rest of them have had their chance,” Lane said as he ducked around a giggling Theo who was talking to Bastian and Anders.
Laurie stood next to them, his arm casually around Theo’s waist while holding a drink in his other hand.
I still had no idea if the two of them were actually together or not, and it didn’t seem like anyone else did either.
Noah sat on the end of the sofa with Alex next to him, and I watched Lane hand him the glass of water as he passed. Noah took it, his face lighting up in a brilliant, if drunken, smile. Alex was watching him like a hawk as if he was worried Noah might suddenly pour it all over himself and drown.
“Hey,” Spencer said as he slid up beside me and clapped me on the shoulder. “How’re you? I’ve hardly seen you all night. Your house is awesome!”
“Thanks,” I said. “I’ve just been in the kitchen.”
“Oh, that makes sense. Thanks for the food. It’s been amazing.
” He grinned at me. “I brought you guys a cake too. I think Lane put it over there,” Spencer continued, gesturing to the sideboard where I saw a white cake box.
“It’s nothing special, but I thought you might like it.
I was thinking about making you, like, a Black Forest cake or something, but it’s probably a good idea that I didn’t.
I don’t know if people would cope with something that rich, especially with the amount of booze we usually put in it. ”
He glanced over at Noah, and I frowned for a second, trying to work out if there was something going on I hadn’t realised, but then I shook my head. I was imagining things.
“Yeah, probably for the best. Poor Noah is pretty wasted. I think Laurie’s cocktails did him in.”
“Aww, man. If he needs to go home, I can take him. I’ve gotta be up early for the shop tomorrow, so I can’t stay late.”
“You can ask,” I said. “It might not be a bad idea. If not, he can crash here.”
“Sweet.” Spencer clapped me on the shoulder again before ducking around the sofa to crouch down in front of Noah.
“What was that about?” Lane asked, appearing with a plate of food. He’d managed to acquire Will as well, and the farmer looked very relaxed as he leant against the back of the sofa.
“Noah. Spencer’s offering to escort him home.” I took a cheese and chorizo egg muffin from the outstretched plate. “Did you know he made us a cake?”
“I did,” Lane said. “I was saving it until you’d finished in the kitchen so you actually got some. I suppose we could cut it.” He turned to Will. “I guess you’ll be heading off soon?”
Will nodded. “Gotta be up at five, so I can’t stay much longer.”
“Gone are the days of you staying up until two, then getting up at five to do whatever farmer things you do,” Lane said with a teasing smile.
“I only did that a couple of times, and it near enough fucking killed me,” Will said dryly.
“It’s the price of getting old,” Lane said.
“What are you talking about?” Theo asked, turning from his conversation and suddenly absorbing us into the larger group.
“That Will is getting old,” Lane said, and Will rolled his eyes. “What about you?”
“Apparently, they’ve cast the hero in that period drama they’re filming at the castle,” Theo said, his eyes going wide as if he was holding on to the most amazing secret. “Twitter’s saying they’ve got Henry Lu to do it!”
“What?” I stared at him. “No way! Henry Lu is a Hollywood superstar. There’s no way he’d come and do a period drama.”
“Apparently, he is,” Theo said. “I really hope it’s true.”
“I’m with Oliver on this one,” Lane said. “I think it’s probably bollocks.”
“I can find out if you want,” Bastian said. We all turned to stare at him. “I mean, I can try. One of the cosplayers I work with regularly, his PA is married to Henry’s brother, Jason.”
“Shut the fucking front door!” Theo gasped, clapping his hand to his face dramatically. “You know Jason Lu?”
“I’ve met him a few times,” Bastian said. “He’s really nice. Very down to earth. I’ve not met Henry, though, but Lewis has mentioned him a few times.”
“Oh my fucking God, you have to ask! And I want to be absolutely nosy and ask you all the questions about Jason. Also, you have to come and join us for pub nights too,” Theo said. “Both of you!”
I chuckled, trying to wrap my head around the whole situation. I’d thought the same as Alex, and that any period drama was more likely to be mid-level TV actors and unknowns—people who could commit to filming multiple series if it took off. But if the rumours were true, we’d both been wrong.
Behind me, I heard the telltale sound of someone starting to retch and turned just in time to see Spencer scooping Noah into his arms and hotfooting it towards the downstairs toilet.
Lane sighed and shoved a piece of tear-and-share bread into his mouth. “If he hits anything but the toilet, I’m never going to let him forget it,” he said as he followed Spencer and Noah, muttering darkly about not ruining his nice tilework with vomit.
I looked around the rest of the group, noticing Laurie was wearing a sheepish expression. I made a mental note to never let him bring drinks again. “Who wants some cake?”
“That could have gone a lot worse,” I said as I unbuttoned my shirt and threw it towards the washing basket in the corner of our room.
It was much later that evening, and it was just Lane and me alone in the house, except for Sparrow, who’d taken up her position on the new, expensive raised bed on the landing, her snoring already audible through the door.
“I guess. Nothing got broken, and Noah was sick in the loo.” Lane pulled off the denim shirt he’d been wearing, which had a camo pattern on it for reasons I couldn’t discern.
On anyone else it would have looked ridiculous as fuck, but on Lane, it just looked hot.
“Laurie’s never making drinks again, though. ”
“Agreed. Or if he does, he has to tone down the amount of rum,” I said as I pulled off my jeans, leaving me in just my boxers. I looked over at the bed and saw Lane staring at me, his eyes full of heat as they roamed over my body.
I smirked and slowly reached for the waistband of my boxers, pulling them down slowly and turning sideways as I did so Lane got a nice view of my ass.
Lane let out a low growl of appreciation, and my cock throbbed, starting to harden in the cool night air.
I stood up and smiled, letting my gaze trail over him.
Sometimes I still couldn’t believe how lucky I was.
I’d somehow managed to undo my past mistakes and reconnect with the man I’d always loved.
It had felt like an impossible dream for so long—a regret I’d have to live with for the rest of my life.
And now there we were, together, in the house of our dreams we’d created together.
I didn’t think life could get any better.
“I love you,” I said as I walked around the bed towards him. Lane wrapped me in his arms, his hands caressing down my spine and making me shiver with anticipation. Whatever the rest of the night held, I knew it would be amazing because it always was.
Every moment with Lane was everything I’d ever wanted, and even on the bad days when we argued, I knew we’d forgive each other. We’d come too far to ever go back.
“I love you too,” he said as his lips brushed against mine.
And as the night dissolved into darkness, I lost myself to his kisses, knowing that I would love Lane forever.
Just like I’d promised.
The End