Epilogue
COLE
It’s the afternoon of game seven of the Stanley Cup Final.
Game fucking seven.
We’ve gotten so close multiple times to winning this fucking thing, but at the last minute, it’s been ripped away from us, leaving us here.
It’s the last chance for us to secure the win and lift the Cup we’re all desperate for.
I want it. Of course I fucking want it. I’ve wanted it since I first discovered its existence.
I’ve come close before, but never this close.
It’s practically within touching distance.
But I have never felt like I have right now about it.
When I’ve been in the playoffs before, I’ve always been worried about what happens next.
What if I let in an easy goal and I’m the reason my team loses?
Will I be traded and sent away unwanted?
Will someone else want me? What will my future look like?
As the hours tick down to our very last game of this postseason, I don’t feel any of that.
I’m a professional hockey player; there is always a risk of being traded, but losing tonight wouldn’t give our GM any more reason to trade me. If he’s considering it, then it’ll happen with or without the W tonight. And if it does happen, maybe, just maybe, it’ll happen for a reason.
Yeah…that’s a very different way of thinking to every other year that’s passed. And I know exactly why.
I glance to my right, taking in the woman who’s walking along with her fingers twisted with mine, the summer sun warming her skin, and a soft smile on her lips.
We’re in her happy place, Runyon Canyon Park.
A walk with our pooches has become a big part of my game day ritual. I miss the fuck out of it when I’m on the road and forced to leave Freya, Buddy, and Charlie behind. It’s all worth it when I return home to find them waiting for me, though.
Sensing my attention, Freya looks up at me through her dark glasses.
“How are you feeling?” she asks.
“Excited, nervous, apprehensive.”
She nods in understanding. The thing is, though, she thinks I’m talking about the upcoming game. She has no idea about the real reason for my nerves.
My hand moves on instinct, checking the zipped pocket of my shorts for the millionth time.
“You’re going to do amazing tonight. And win or lose, you’ve played an incredible season. You should be proud of yourself.”
I am proud of myself. This season has been incredible, but it’s been made all the better because of her. Every single bit of my life got better because Freya came into it.
She’s no longer my employee; she’s my entire life. And that’s exactly how I intend to keep it.
We continue walking, Buddy and Charlie up ahead, running back and forth, checking their surroundings, and wearing themselves out.
Freya isn’t the only one who’s made my life better. They have too. They’ve brought so much fun, laughter, and love into the apartment. Yes, mess and chaos too, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Freya’s laugh rings through the air as Charlie drags a stick from the undergrowth, although I’m not sure it can be classified as a stick. It’s more like half a tree.
“We’re not taking that one home, boy,” I call.
He looks up at me with his large, dark eyes, and my heart jolts.
“Nope. Do not look at me like that.” All three of them know I’d do anything for them.
But it’s the dogs that really pull on my heartstrings.
That’s why our apartment now resembles a pet store.
There are more dog toys littered around than two dogs could ever need in their lives.
I just can’t help myself. The need to ensure they feel like they belong, like we’re their forever home, burns through me like a wildfire.
It’s how I was desperate to be treated as a kid, and I know it’s different, I know they’re dogs, but I still need them to know how much they’re wanted, how much they’re loved.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Freya asks as I sniffle.
“Yeah, of course. Allergies.”
“You don’t have any allergies,” she counters.
“Well, maybe today I do.”
Thankfully, Charlie abandons his tree, and we continue walking along Freya’s favorite trail in the park.
This one doesn’t have the best views of LA, but because of that, it’s quieter. It’s perfect.
As we approach her favorite spot to stop and contemplate life, or in more recent times, make out with me, my heart rate begins to pick up.
This is it. This is about to be the moment.
I blow out a steady breath between my parted lips in an attempt to get myself together. It doesn’t help; instead, it just turns Freya’s attention back to me.
Her eyes narrow in suspicion, but she doesn’t say anything as we round the corner.
The second we get to the right spot, I tug on her hand and give her little choice but to turn back to face me.
“Hey,” she breathes, her eyes bouncing between mine.
I step a little closer, my heart a runaway train in my chest.
“Hi,” I whisper back, a nervous smile twitching at my lips.
“What’s going on, Cole? You’re freaking me out.”
“I’m freaking you out?” I laugh. “Do you have any idea how I’ve been feeling since the first day you walked into my apartment and infiltrated my life?”
“Good, I hope.”
“Fucking fantastic,” I confess. “You are hands down the single best thing that’s ever happened in my life.”
The smile that spreads across her lips is breathtaking, but the shocked expression that replaces it as I sink down to one knee before her is one I’ll never, ever forget.
“C-Cole, wh-what are you doing?”
“Freya,” I say, staring up at her with my heart in my throat.
“I love you. I love you so much that some days I can’t believe it can all be real.
All my life, I’ve dreamed of having a person standing beside me, a family to call my own.
I wasn’t expecting to find it the day you walked into my life and caused chaos in my kitchen.
I’m not sure what it is you see in me, maybe it was the bump to the head on that very first day, but whatever it is, I’m not going to question it, because I’m a better person with you standing beside me.
“Getting to call you my girl is a privilege I’ll never believe I deserve, but I’m a selfish man, Freya, and that’s not enough for me. I want more. I want everything. Forever.
“Will you…will you marry me?”
Freya sniffles, lifting her free hand to wipe the tears cascading down her cheeks.
“Shit,” I mutter, suddenly remembering something else. I tug the zipper of my pocket down and pinch the ring I’ve kept hidden from her for weeks between my thumb and forefinger.
“Oh my god.” She gasps when I hold it up between us, her trembling hand covering her gawping mouth.
It’s a simple princess-cut diamond on a platinum band. The moment I saw it, I knew she’d love it.
“Yes, Cole. Oh my god.”
I reach for her hand and hold it tight in mine to stop it from trembling so hard, allowing me to slide the ring into its rightful place.
We both stare at it for a moment, the importance of what is happening wrapping around us.
“It’s so beautiful.”
“No, baby, that’s you. Nothing will ever compare to you.”
Pushing to my feet, I wrap my hand around the back of her neck and drag her closer until she’s pinned against my body and crash my mouth against hers.
Her lips are just as greedy as mine, parting instantly, her tongue gliding against mine, making my body soar with need.
Maybe doing this outside of the apartment was a bad idea.
Seconds stretch to minutes as the warm summer air blows around us. But eventually, we pull back.
Freya’s eyes are still full of unshed tears as she looks up at me, then down at her ring, and then at me again.
“I can’t believe you just did that,” she whispers in disbelief.
“You’re going to be my wife,” I state proudly.
“Pfft, that’s nothing. Cole Hansley is going to be my husband.”
After taking a whole series of selfies that include the two of us, Freya’s ring, and Buddy and Charlie, we finally make our way back to the car, hand in hand with wide smiles on our faces.
I’ve got two hours before I have to be at the arena to get ready for our final game, and I know exactly how I want to spend them.
By the time I’ve made my fiancée scream until she’s hoarse, wearing nothing but her engagement ring, there’s barely any time to eat. It’s not exactly the preparation I’d have imagined for game seven of the Stanley Cup Final, but for me—for us—it’s perfect.
By the time I get into the car, I’m feeling relaxed and ready to take on this final challenge of the year.
“Ready?” Freya asks when we’re ten minutes out from the arena.
She’s got pre-game plans with Casey and her parents, but before that can happen, we’ve got a little announcement for our friends.
“Ready,” I agree, glancing over just as she taps the send button, sharing our favorite selfie from this afternoon with our group chat.
Freya video called her parents the second we got home to give them the news.
Watching them sob with happiness down the line made me feel a range of emotions. The fact that they were that happy about their daughter marrying me blew my mind.
Of course, they both knew it was coming. There was no way I was asking Freya to marry me without seeking permission from her father first.
While I may be skeptical of being good enough for Freya, I was fairly confident that Brian would give me his blessing. And he did, after a very awkward—on my part—man hug from him.
“They’re opening it,” Freya says. “Oh my god, someone is typing.”
As we close in on the arena, she reads out every message that comes through.
“I think they’re happy about it,” she exclaims as I take the final turn and head into the arena’s parking garage.
A laugh erupts out of me. Okay, so maybe I might have given a clue about what was happening when I asked Casey’s advice on something.
“Yeah, I think they might be.”
Pinned to the wall of my parking spot is a congratulations banner, and standing waiting for us are all our friends with wide smiles.
The second we’re out of the car, we’re engulfed by them.
Happiness races through my veins as I accept congratulations from my teammates and their girls.
“As fun as this all is,” Fletch says after a few minutes, “we’ve got a fucking cup to win.”
As all the guys cheer and begin to head inside, I snag my girl’s hand and tug her into my body. Cupping her jaw, I gaze into her eyes, aware that others are watching but not giving a single fuck.
“I love you, Whirlwind.”
“I love you, too, Cole. Stanley Cup Finals,” she muses. “I’m so proud of you.”
My chest tightens, and my heart aches. I’m not sure I’ll ever get bored with hearing that.
“Win or lose, I’ll be right there to celebrate all your successes. Always.”
My eyes burn, and a lump clogs my throat.
“You’re my everything,” I force out.
She smiles up at me. “And you’re mine. Now go out there and show the world just how freaking awesome my fiancé is.”
“You got it, baby.”
“Handsy, come on,” Rett calls from the doorway. “If you don’t get in here, Coach will cut off Freya’s favorite part of you.”
The guys laugh as I reluctantly turn around and head off.
When I get to the door, I glance back over my shoulder to see Freya surrounded by the women still gushing over her ring and listening to her every word.
Movement to her left catches my attention, and I look over to find Brian smiling at me.
He nods once, happiness glittering in his eyes, and I give him a wave before disappearing inside, feeling lighter than I ever have in my life.
“I can’t believe you fucking proposed,” Linc barks the second I join them. “Fucking beat me to it.”
“Snooze you lose,” I tease as I begin getting undressed.
Nervous and excited banter continues to ripple around the locker room as we all focus on what’s to come.
That is, until the door opens and Killer bellows, “Cover your dicks, woman in da house.”
I look over to find Hailee standing in the doorway, her usual fierce expression on her face.
I assume she wants me so she can put out an engagement announcement. I twist around, ready to head over, but I quickly learn she’s here for someone else.
Her favorite player, in fact.
“Donnelly, I need a word.”
“A bit fucking busy here, actually.”
“Yeah, I get that. But this is important,” she insists.
“More important than winning the Cup?” Rett counters.
When Hailee takes a moment to reply, a seriousness settles over us.
Oh, shit. It is more important than the Cup.
“Go, man,” Fletch encourages. “Sort your shit and then get back here.”
Rett nods once before following Hailee out of the locker room, half-dressed.
I glance at Linc, and he shrugs, as clueless as I am.
Rett
“What the fuck is more important than the Cup?” I bark as I reluctantly follow the biggest pain in my ass along the corridor.
Her shoulders tighten.
I’d like to say I don’t enjoy getting under her skin, but that would be a lie. It’s one of the best forms of entertainment around here—aside from the bunnies, of course.
She spins around and glares up at me.
“Did you really want to do this here? I’d think somewhere a little more private would be a good idea.”
“Just tell me.” I sigh, bored with the dramatics already.
“Fine.” She huffs, her hands landing on her slim waist. “Congratulations, Donnelly. You’re going to be a father.”
Ice runs through my body as the world around me spins.
“I-I’m sorry,” I stutter, assuming I must have misheard her.
“Congratulations, Donnelly. You’re going to be a father,” she repeats word for word.
But it doesn’t fucking help.
“What the fuck? No, I’m not. I always wrap it and—”
“Did you want to come and tell that to the woman sitting in my office right now, claiming to be carrying your spawn?”
I blink at her, unable to believe this is really happening.
“No, I really fucking don’t,” I state, rubbing my sweaty palms on my thighs.
“Well, that’s just tough, because you don’t have a choice. Let’s go, Donnelly. Time to sort out another one of your fuck-ups.”