Epilogue #2
“You’re one of us,” Jason explains, as if that wasn’t obvious with the jersey. Nicholas almost wishes he could play stupid because there’s a strange tightness in his chest, and his eyes are dangerously close to leaking. Fucking Kings and their fucking feelings.
“Are you going to cry, Nicholas?” Eden asks.
“Fuck you.”
“Awww,” Eden grins. “He’s emotional.”
“Fuck off,” Nicholas grunts, swiping at his eyes.
“I think he loves us,” Charlie says, moving into Nicholas's personal space. The space that is reserved for one man and one man alone, and it isn’t fucking Charlie.
“Don’t even think about hugging me,” Nicholas tells him, holding his hand out just to be sure he doesn’t come any closer.
“One day you’re going to ask me for a hug,” Charlie announces. “I’m manifesting it.”
“Not fucking likely,” Nicholas replies. “Time to go home, Charlie.”
“Can’t I stay and watch you propose?”
“No.”
“I wanna watch him propose,” Alec echoes.
“No.”
“But—” Charlie starts.
“All of you out. Now.”
“He’s nervous,” Charlie tells the others in a stage whisper.
“I’m not fucking nervous,” Nicholas snaps. “Stop saying that.”
“He’s testy too,” Charlie says, ignoring Nicholas’s outburst.
“Out,” Nicholas growls.
“We’re leaving,” Jason says, swinging an arm around Emerson’s shoulder to guide him towards their car at the same time Alec takes a running leap to jump on Theo’s back.
“You want a piggyback ride too, Eden?” Charlie asks.
Eden’s response is two middle fingers.
“Bye, Nicholas. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I didn’t invite you over tomorrow,” Nicholas points out, but Charlie just dismisses him with a wave.
Right as they’re all finally driving away, he gets a text from Amanda.
Amanda
We’ll be back in twenty minutes. You better be ready because his nerves are shot.
Nicholas
You were supposed to help him relax.
Amanda
I tried. You know Andrew.
Nicholas does know Andrew. He knows his strengths and his weaknesses.
He knows all the things he loves and the ones he hates.
He knows what makes him anxious and what helps him relax, what makes his lips quirk up in a smile, what makes his body sag in relief.
He knows Andrew inside and out, and he knows that despite him and Amanda’s schemes for a relaxing day, Andrew’s brain is probably in overdrive anticipating tonight, regardless of his own excitement.
Pocketing his phone, Nicholas makes his way into the house to double check everything is perfect.
Assured, he makes his way back out to the front and waits, his heart beating against his ribcage double time when the gate opens and Amanda’s car comes in.
She stops in the middle of the driveway, leaning across the center of her car to kiss Andrew’s cheek before he departs the car, offering Nicholas a wave before she drives away.
All consuming affection slams into Nicholas as he watches Andrew cross the driveway.
He looks exactly the same as he did when he left this morning—a pale pink polo shirt paired with perfectly pressed khakis and his favorite loafers.
The only difference is his hair is a little mused from the day, and there’s a nervous energy to him that wasn’t there when he left.
He is the single most beautiful man on earth, and a lifetime wouldn’t be long enough to love him the way he deserves.
How the fuck did Nicholas ever live without this man?
Unable to stand another second without holding him, Nicholas abandons his plan to wait at the front door and sprints across the driveway, pulling Andrew into his arms.
Andrew inhales sharply, shoving his face into Nicholas’s neck while his arms twine around Nicholas’s middle. Trying to infuse all his own calm and certainty into Andrew, he tightens the embrace fully prepared to hold him for hours if that’s what he needs.
It’s not hours, but it is long minutes before Andrew steps back, tipping his handsome face up at Nicholas. There are unshed tears in his eyes, his smile wobbly.
“Hi.”
“Hi, princess.”
Two words and the tears fall, drops clinging to Andrew’s thick, dark eyelashes.
“Shit, sorry,” he mumbles.
“It’s okay, princess.” Slipping his fingers into Andrew’s thick hair, he pushes it off his face. “Are you ready?”
“Yes. Now, please.”
With a smile that has always been for Andrew, that will always only be for Andrew, he takes his hand and walks him around the side of the house towards the rose petal lined pathway. Along the way Andrew tightens his hold, squeezing Nicholas’s hand enough to cut off the circulation.
His princess is such a delicate man. He knows most people don’t see it because Andrew puts on a front for everyone else, but that mask is nowhere to be found when it’s only them. Andrew lets all his walls fall when he’s with Nicholas, lets Nicholas see him exactly as he is.
Right now, his princess is nervous as shit—evident in the way he’s tapping his fingers on his palm and clenching his jaw.
He knows him well enough to understand that Andrew’s overwhelm comes not from unease or unhappiness but simply from feeling out of control, and there’s nothing Nicholas can do to take that feeling away, so he doesn’t offer false platitudes or tell him there’s no reason to be nervous.
The only thing that will help Andrew is seeing things for himself.
Andrew is his and he is Andrew’s; they both know it. But he also knows they are going to feel better when it’s solidified in a new way, when this ring in his pocket is on Andrew’s finger where it belongs so that every single person who looks at him knows he’s taken.
Andrew likes certainty and plans, and very soon Nicholas is going to give him that, forever.
When they reach the yard, Andrew stills, taking in the thousands of rose petals that cover the lawn creating a dramatic path towards their personal stairway to the beach. His obvious awe and appreciation makes every second of working and worrying and listening to his brothers yap worth it.
Offering him a shaky smile, Andrew squeezes Nicholas’s hand, and together they follow the path. With every step they take, Nicholas’s heart beats harder, faster, the love he has for Andrew barely contained.
They pause at the bottom of the staircase for Andrew to remove his shoes and socks, leaving them on the bottom step before he walks towards the circle of roses. Nicholas lets go of his hand, waiting until Andrew is in the center before he drops to one knee.
“I love you.”
“I love you.” The tears Andrew’s been holding at bay fall, running down his beautiful face. “More than I knew possible.”
Nicholas knows the feeling. A year ago, he didn’t even know he was capable of loving someone else.
“You changed my life, princess.” Before Andrew can try and protest like he always does, Nicholas continues. He might not be quite as loquacious as Andrew, but his princess deserves this.
“I mean it. The day I met you, you changed the trajectory of my life. I thought I had everything, but I was wrong. I was so fucking wrong. You challenged me, called me on my bullshit and made me want to be a better man—the kind of man who could deserve you.”
Withdrawing the small box from his pocket, he holds it out to Andrew, tracking the exact moment Andrew notices the box is shaped like a book.
“You rewrote my story, princess.”
“We wrote our story,” Andrew corrects, dropping down to his knees.
“And it’s not over yet,” Nicholas tells him, opening the box. He withdraws the ring, holding it out. “I love you, princess, and I want you. Every day, in every way. I want the good, the bad and the in between with you. Would you do me the honor of giving me your name, of being mine forever?”
“I’m already yours,” Andrew sniffs, scrubbing away the tears from his eyes.
The wind has blown his hair into disarray, his eyes rimmed in red and his face tear streaked. He’s perfect.
“Marry me, princess.”
“Yes,” Andrew chokes, waiting until Nicholas has slipped the ring on his finger to tackle Nicholas to the sand, laughing and crying as the waves crash behind them. Taking Andrew’s face in his hands, he kisses him, tasting his tears against his smile.
“Nicholas King has a nice ring to it,” Andrew murmurs.
Nicholas can’t fucking wait for the world to know he belongs to this man, heart, body and soul. His own last name might be infamous, but it’s always felt like an anchor dragging him down. Now he gets Andrew’s last name, one given freely, because Nicholas is loved.
“You know what else sounds good?” Nicholas whispers.
“Hmm?” Andrew hums, the happiness in his eyes everything Nicholas could ever want.
“Forever.”
Andrew’s answering smile steals his breath away as he lifts Nicholas’s hand, kissing his ring finger where a wedding ring will go one day—one day very soon if Nicholas has his way.
His lips press against the skin, exactly where Nicholas plans to tattoo his own ring, one that he won’t ever have to take off while he’s on the ice.
“Forever,” Andrew echoes.
Forever.
Fucking perfect.