Epilogue
“Hi, Nonna.”
Nico held his breath as she turned, her eyes widening. He’d seen her again a few times since he came out, and as he’d guessed, she’d avoided the subject entirely and pretended nothing had changed.
But this time, Jake was beside him.
Jake smiled widely. “It’s wonderful to see you.”
She stared at them both, her gaze flicking back and forth, smoothing her hands over her floral silk dress.
It was the rehearsal dinner for Valentina’s massive wedding, and most people would think this was the wedding itself, with a string quartet playing in the corner and servers circulating with trays of appetizers and champagne.
Tomorrow they’d be in the country club’s grand ballroom, but tonight they were in a glass-walled restaurant, the sun setting over the browning golf course. The forecast called for blue skies and perfect autumn weather for Val’s big day.
As the seconds ticked by, Nico’s heart thumped. Would she turn away? Not say anything at all? Would—
“Nicolito.” She took his face in her gnarled hands, bringing him down for a kiss. Then she did the same to Jake. “You were always good boys.”
Someone clinked their glass, calling for attention, and that was that. Nonna grabbed a puff pastry off a passing tray, muttering that she could have made them better, as Valentina’s future father-in-law thanked everyone for attending and blah, blah, blah.
Not listening anymore, Nico tried to calm his speeding heart as relief flowed. Nonna probably wouldn’t be marching in any Pride parades, but he’d take it.
Jake reached for Nico’s wrist just below the cuff of his suit jacket, rubbing his thumb over the tender skin on the inside, tracing the little black and white circle that matched the tattoo on his own wrist.
Most people who noticed the tattoos thought they were little yin/yang symbols.
But on closer inspection, the ridges of the armadillo’s protective shell could be spotted, its long face tucked in, tail circling around.
Nico gave Jake a little smile, his heart slowing, constricting now in happiness, not fear.
Maybe it had been foolish to get matching tattoos so soon. It had only been six weeks since the Caps’ season had ended half a game back of the wild card berth. An incredibly bitter pill to swallow, but that was sports for you.
Moving down to San Francisco, he and Jake had settled into Jake’s wood-beamed, big-windowed house.
The tattoos had come one night while making their way slowly down the street after tapas in the Mission District, Jake leaning on his cane and insisting he was perfectly fine to go for a damn walk.
The parlor was open late, and they’d had two bottles of wine.
The next morning, they’d only grinned when they saw the tattoos and fucked before breakfast, Jake’s knee getting a workout. No regrets.
“Hey, Rookie of the Year!” Marco swooped in as the speech ended, giving Nico and Jake slaps on the back.
Val rolled her eyes as she appeared in his wake, looking beautiful in an emerald dress that swirled around her knees, her dark curls pulled back. “He and Ian’s brothers started over at the bar a little early.”
“Just getting to know our new family,” Marco said. “Being a responsible big brother.” Ignoring Val’s snort, he asked Nico, “So, how does it feel? We haven’t had a chance to talk since you won.”
Nico shrugged, but had to smile. “Feels good. Can’t help but wonder if I won because I’m gay and the league is knocking itself out being inclusive. Not that I should complain about that. They’ve been amazing.”
Jake shook his head. “No way. Your stats hold up. You came close to the pitching award too. Anyone that says you didn’t deserve to win doesn’t know a damn thing about baseball.”
“I know, I know.” Nico patted his arm. “It doesn’t matter what idiots say on Twitter. It’s fine.”
Jake cleared his throat. “Sorry. I just get…” He waved his hand.
“Adorably protective?” Val supplied with a grin, her nose scrunching.
Nico’s belly fluttered pleasantly. “All right, leave him alone. Anyway, it feels good to win. But it’s also, like…
It’s nice and all, but you get up the next day and your life is the same.
It’s a huge honor, but I guess it’s not as big a deal as I always thought it would be.
It’s not important compared to you guys and the team. ”
Pressing her lips together, Val blinked rapidly, her eyes filling with tears. “Our baby brother is growing up, Marc!” She pulled Nico into a hug and kissed his cheek.
Marco grinned. “I’m not gonna cry about it, but he is.”
Nico muttered into her hair, “Jeez, you’re supposed to be getting emotional about your wedding, not me.”
Releasing him, Val licked her thumb and rubbed his cheek where she’d kissed. “I’m the bride. I get to be emotional about everything.”
Their father appeared, smiling tightly. “Damn right you do, princess.” He gave Nico a brief hug—complete with a back slap, of course—then extended his hand to Jake. “How’s the knee, Fitz?”
“Good.” Jake shook his hand. “Well, better. Slowly but surely and all that.” He lifted his cane. “Don’t need it all the time now, but since it might be a long night…”
“He’s way better, though,” Nico added. “He’s working so hard at rehab.”
Dad said, “He always was a hard worker.”
“He’s been talking to Skip about coaching too,” Nico said proudly.
“We’ll see.” Jake waved a dismissive hand. “It’s all preliminary, but he thinks I have a knack.”
Nico elbowed him lightly. “Of course you do. Look how much you’ve helped me.”
“Yes, well.” Dad cleared his throat. “All right, have fun. I’d better go check on the rest of the family.” He plucked a champagne flute off a server’s tray, draining it as he walked away.
“That…went pretty good?” Jake squeezed Nico’s wrist again.
Nico exhaled a long breath. “Definitely could have gone worse.”
“Are you guys staying at a hotel?” Marco asked.
“Totally. Would be way too weird at the house. Maybe down the road, but not now.” Nico laughed, some of the tension easing.
“Besides, my bed’s a little too small for the two of us.
” They all chuckled, and he added, “He’s trying.
Although he did call the other day to remind me not to do anything gay at the wedding. ”
“Oh, for the love of—” Val pressed her lips into a flat line, hands on her hips.
“I expect you two on the dance floor tomorrow. Fitz, you’re excused from the fast numbers, but you can stand and sway during slow songs, right?
And hold hands. And kiss. Because last time I checked, straight people do those things too.
Anyone who doesn’t like it can pucker up and lay one on my bridezilla ass. That includes our family.”
Jake grinned. “I’ll drink to that.”
“Where’s that bubbly?” she asked, and Marco motioned to a server.
With flutes in hand, they raised them together in a silent toast, clinking their glasses. Fizzy champagne sweet on his tongue, Nico took Jake’s hand and pressed their lips together. And if anyone didn’t like it, they could kiss his ass too.