Epilogue
Four Months Later
The hot September sun blazes down on me, my skin sticking to the metal stadium seat with every shift of my legs. The paper cup of lemonade in my hand sweats almost as much as I am, condensation rolling down onto my fingers as I peer down at the field, instantly finding Gareth.
“What do you think Austin’s getting chastised about now?
” Hailey asks curiously next to me, nudging my arm with hers.
Declan's girlfriend’s wearing a black Bears cap over her fiery red hair and a beautiful red sundress that hugs every curve of her body.
Gareth introduced us a couple months ago and we’ve become fast friends, both happy to have another female to hang out with whenever the guys get together.
I follow her gaze to the mound where Declan’s in full-blown coach mode, arms moving, his focus locked, as he speaks to his starting pitcher.
“I don’t know, but is it just me or does Austin look like he might burst into tears at any second?”
He doesn’t—he’s actually far too calm and confident for a guy who’s clearly being reprimanded by his coach.
We both laugh, then fall into easy conversation as the game gets started.
I can’t help but lean forward when my whole world steps up to bat, swinging the bat in lazy circles like it’s an extension of his arm.
Even from the stands, I can recognize his focus through his posture—see the way something in his mind clicks into place when he steps out onto the diamond, his eyes never drifting from the other team’s pitcher.
When he steps up to bat, his toes aligned with home plate, he positions himself, adjusting his hold on the bat.
Anticipation curls tight in my chest, my body tingling.
“Gareth looks so serious tonight,” Hailey says. “Who’s he trying to impress?”
“Definitely Jensen,” I deadpan, and she bursts out laughing.
He already knows he impresses me every single day.
From the way he drops his bag by the door, rushing straight to me the second he gets home to pepper kisses against my skin, to the dinners he insists on cooking, trying new recipes he thinks I’ll like, even when I promise him air-fried nuggets count as a meal.
And then in the way he brings me to ruin, promising me pleasure with every flick of his tongue, every touch of his fingertips, when he finds his way between my legs.
Gareth Fox is nothing short of amazing.
The pitcher winds up and the ball flies from his hand like a rocket.
Gareth doesn’t flinch as it soars past him, just watches it—studies it.
Strike one.
With the second pitch, Gareth swings, launching the ball into the outfield. The crack permeates through the air, clean and sharp.
Everything goes still—the stadium holds its breath.
I’m out of my seat, heart pounding and hands clapping as I lean forward against the railing, tracking the ball as it lands on the edge of the field.
Then everyone erupts.
“Go. Go. Go!” I scream, cheering him on as though he can hear me.
Gareth flies past first, then second, dust kicking up behind him as he rounds the bases. Every person in the stadium seems to be on their feet now, watching this amazing man of mine.
Once he’s safely on third, his gaze meets mine. His mouth tugs into a grin, and he throws a wink in my direction.
Then his gaze slides past me and widens.
His expression morphs.
I start to turn to see what he’s looking at when someone drops into the stadium seat beside me.
I forget how to breathe.
For a second, my brain refuses to make sense of what I’m looking at—who I’m looking at.
Like if I blink, he’ll disappear into thin air.
“Dylan.” His name falls from my lips in a whisper.
My brother gives me a small, hesitant smile. His eyes are softer than they were the last time I saw him, the anger gone and replaced with something new.
Something that looks a lot like regret.
“Hey, sis.”
My chest tightens, the sound of his voice hitting me like a punch to the gut. After months of silence—of hurt.
Of missing him.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, my tone harder than I’d like it to be.
He looks down at his hands, then back at me.
“I was an idiot,” he blurts, then blows out a long, shaky breath.
“I freaked out. Thought as your big brother it was my job to protect you, but I was really just protecting myself. I had this idea that if you and Gareth were together, you guys would forget about me and I’d lose my place in your lives. Turns out, I did that myself.”
My eyes burn, blurring with tears I fight hard to blink away. “The last thing I’d ever want is you out of my life, Dylan. You’re my brother.”
He huffs out a laugh. “Your dickhead brother.”
“Ah, look. Something we can both agree on.” I nudge his arm.
He nods, like he’s finally understanding, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.
The world shifts back into place, and for a second, we’re nine and ten years old again, hanging out like it’s just another weekend.
Out on the field, Gareth glances up at us from third, trying to get a read on what’s happening. His focus keeps getting pulled back to the game, but I can see the tension in him from here.
Dylan lifts his hand in an awkward wave. “Does he hate me?” he asks, voice low and vulnerable.
I look at him—really take a good look at my brother. He looks nervous. Regret etched into his expression.
I shake my head. “No. He doesn’t hate you.”
“Do you?”
The question lingers heavily between us for a beat, but I don’t hesitate with my answer.
“No.”
Tension expels from his body in a shaky breath—one that feels like he’s been holding onto for a while.
It took four months for my brother to find his way back to us.
Four months of thinking, of processing. Of realizing that Gareth and I loving each other doesn’t mean we love him any less.
It’s always been the three of us—me, Dylan, and Gareth.
It will always be the three of us. Our dynamic just looks a little different now.
Dylan’s anger tested the strength of our friendships.
Tested us.
But it didn’t break us.
Gareth bolts to home, stealing the base in a risky yet calculated move, and the crowd roars to life again as his cleat slams through the plate.
The second he knows his play was successful, his head snaps back toward me.
Toward me and Dylan.
And he can see by the look on my face that everything’s going to be okay.
Relief washes over him and Dylan waves again. This time, Gareth waves back.
For the first time in thirteen years, my heart doesn’t feel like it’s split between two people.
It feels whole.
I no longer have to pick between my brother and the love of my life.
I don’t have to put someone else’s happiness before my own.
I chose myself. I chose my happiness.
No more secrets. No more hiding.
Now I get to love Gareth out loud, and keep my brother too.
Turns out, love isn’t a losing game.
It wins.
Thank you for reading Stealing Kisses!