Epilogue
Quinn: Ten Months Later
The gutting feeling of being knocked out of the playoffs first round was second to none. Except that wasn’t true anymore. The most gutting feeling in the world now was watching the love of my life in the net for the game that knocked them out of the first-round playoffs.
It was hard to see Ferris’s face behind the mask, but I could feel the ache all the way across the ice. While Detroit was celebrating the win, Ferris sat in front of the net with his head low. His shoulders were shaking, and I knew that behind his thick glove, his hand was in a tight fist.
The fact that he’d been in the net during a playoff game was a miracle in itself. Especially for his first year. And I could see the veterans on the team watching him as they skated close by to knock their helmets against his.
He took each one with squared shoulders.
There would be presser after that, and they’d meet with their coach.
There would be time to mourn and eventually time to celebrate the extra time they’d all have with their families.
But I knew it would take Ferris longer than most of them.
He took failures personally, and when they affected other people, it was worse.
Glancing over, I could see the look on Liam’s and Manisha’s faces. They were heartbroken for him. His brothers were probably the same. They were sitting with a few of his former frat brothers closer to the ice—right behind the bench.
We all had plans to meet up after the game, but I had a feeling that wasn’t going to happen.
“Tomorrow,” Manisha said to me, reaching over to touch my wrist. “Maybe for lunch.”
“I’ll cook something,” I told her.
“Will you be able to go find him?”
I had a badge, of course, that let me into any room anywhere at the arena. But I knew he was going to need time. I also had a feeling I knew where he’d be when everyone cleared out, and I knew his coach and the other players would let him have his quiet moment.
I’d had a plan for tonight, no matter how the game went, but I’d been hoping it would be better than this. Selfishly, I didn’t want Ferris to make it to the Cup. I didn’t want him to win. Not this year. Our first year.
I didn’t want to sacrifice my hours with him to practices, to games, to roadies I couldn’t go on, and then all the celebrations after. I wanted that for him eventually. Maybe even next year. But I wanted it to be after…well.
After the ring I had in my pocket to be put on his finger.
After we told the entire world he was mine.
I felt like a rotten bastard for that wish, and I couldn’t help but wonder if I had manifested it. Truthfully, I didn’t believe in that kind of shit, but now I was worried. If he knew, would he hate me?
The crowd eventually began to clear. I gave Manisha and Liam hugs before they went to collect the rest of their children, and I continued to sit. I saw the guys from the frat house and a bunch of guys who’d been on the app and at the photoshoot sending me waves before they left.
And the longer I sat, the quieter it got.
Some of the lights began to dim, and I knew then it was my time to go. I made my way into the empty corridor, watching as the food vendors began to close their stalls. There were a few lingering drunk people off in the distance, shouting to hear their voices echo off the walls.
And then I slipped into a hallway no one else had access to, and I began to make my way to where I knew Ferris was.
All of the players and the staff were gone.
The coaches were probably in their offices or in a meeting, talking about strategy and planning to watch tape for when training season began.
But I knew Ferris would be alone.
Reaching into my pocket with one hand, I leaned heavily on my cane with the other. The tension had my hip and knee aching more than I wanted to admit. In my pocket, I curled my fingers around the soft, squishy, messy bit of yarn that sort of resembled a little mouse.
I’d followed the pattern exactly, and, well…it wasn’t the prettiest thing I’d ever done. But it was something.
When I reached the changing room door, I took a breath, then pressed my badge to the little black box and waited for the lock to click. It did, and then I stepped inside.
Ferris was dressed, his hair falling in wet, wavy locks around his face. He wasn’t facing the door, but he stiffened when he heard me come in. The fact that he didn’t turn told me he knew it was me.
“No pep talks, okay?”
I laughed softly as I set my cane down and straddled the bench beside him. “No pep talks.”
“Don’t tell me I’ll do better next year.”
I reached out and laid my hand on top of his. His fingers were dancing in his lap, but they stilled a bit when he felt the warmth of my palm. “I don’t know how you’ll do next year.”
“Do you think they’ll take away my time in the net?”
“No. No one expected miracles from you tonight, baby. Everyone was exhausted. Three of your starting line were injured and had been for the last five games. The night before last, your goalie missed a curb and concussed himself by complete accident. Shit happens, and none of it was your fault.”
“That’s what everyone else said.” He darted a look over his shoulder at me. “Not those same words. But some of them.”
“No one blames you.”
“They said that too.”
Licking my lips, I asked, “Would now be a bad time to ask you a very important question that has nothing to do with hockey or this game? Because it can wait. But…but I had a plan.”
“A surprise?”
“I know you hate them.”
“I do.” He took a breath and lifted his leg over the bench, adjusting himself so he was straddling it, facing me. “What do you want to ask me?”
I reached into my pocket and closed my hand around the mouse. “I can’t do this the way I wanted to. The way it should be done. My body won’t move that way anymore. So I hope you don’t mind if I can’t get down on one knee.”
He swallowed heavily.
Pulling the mouse out of my pocket, I opened my hand, leaving it resting in the center of my palm. It was three different colors of yarn with stubby arms and mismatched ears. And there was a little pocket like a kangaroo. Poking out of the top was a gold band.
He blinked rapidly.
“I’m not going to make a speech. I tried, but everything I wrote down sounded ridiculous. I’m only sappy right after we fuck, and that seemed like the wrong moment to ask you to marry me.”
He looked up at me, and I could see that while he wasn’t crying, his eyes were a little watery. “Oh.”
“So I’m going to ask now, right after a shitty loss, because apparently, I have crap timing.”
“Okay,” he whispered.
I realized he was most definitely going to make me say all the words, and I almost laughed because that was so him. And I fucking loved him for it. “You are the love of my life, and I never want to spend it with anyone else. So, will you marry me?”
“When?”
Shit. I was not prepared to answer that. But the words came easily. “Whenever you want. You get to pick.”
“Tomorrow.”
I laughed hard and shook my head. “I think we need more time than that. We have to get a license and file it, and—”
“We can start tomorrow,” he said, cutting me off. Then he put his hand over the mouse and leaned in and kissed me for everything I was worth. And then a bit more than that.
“Is that a yes?”
“Yes.” Easing back, he took the ring out of the mouse’s pocket and slipped it onto his left hand. I had no words for how it made me feel to see it there. Subtle, small, thin, and exactly him.
Exactly us.
“Did you make this?” he asked, picking up the mouse and turning it in his hands.
I was still staring at the ring, but I managed a nod. “Yeah. I bought a kit and followed a pattern.”
“It’s terrible.” His eyes darted up to meet mine. “No offense.”
My stomach hurt from holding in the laugh I wanted to let out. “Not offended. This is definitely not one of my talents.”
He slipped it into his pocket. “I love it anyway. I love you. And you want to marry me.”
“Yeah. I really, really want to marry you.”
He shifted forward, closer, then closer. Then he was on my lap with his legs resting on top of mine. The weight of him was the most reassuring thing I had ever felt in my life.
“I really want to marry you too.”
And then he sealed those seven words with a kiss.
Now that you’ve finished Ferris and Quinn, please hop over to check out Play With Me, by Cora Rose, to see how Colton and Myles stumble into a happily ever after.
Please note: Top Shelf takes place after the events of Play With Me, but this book contains no spoilers regarding their story.