Epilogue
EPILOGUE
Mid-March
“This is so cool,” I tell Finn as soon as we’re standing in front of our seats in the Deep Arena. Chicago’s hockey team has never had a fan in me, and considering Finn’s brother never played for their hometown, they don’t have one in my date either, but it’s still awesome how welcoming they’ve been to us.
“I think so too, cutie. We’re gonna have to make it up to Charlie for setting it up.”
“He’s not a fan of soup by any chance, is he?” I ask cheekily.
Finn just shakes his head with a chuckle and throws an arm over my shoulder.
“The best way to pay him back is by making sure he gets some of Mom’s lasagna tonight.”
“We can do that,” I say absentmindedly. The buzz of excitement in the arena is electrifying and I can’t help but look at everything.
“I’m going to go get us some drinks and snacks, okay cutie?”
“Yeah,” I say and turn around with a smile for him. He leans in to brush his lips to mine then turns to walk up the stairs to where the food is.
I go back to soaking up everything with a happy sigh.
It’s been a great month since we got back from Vegas. Finn is now officially my boyfriend, and it seems like nothing in the world could bring me down from my happiness high right now.
Work is going great, and since I already had four days working from home, I’ve been able to go stay with Finn at his home in Crushville for more than a few days.
We’re going to try an experiment this coming week where I stay with him all the time. Since he also does a lot of his work from home—from that amazing home office I’ve envied since the first time I saw it—it could be tricky if we don’t mesh well workwise.
Sure it’s not like we’re in business together, but after so long of only having to worry about my own needs in the workplace, I’m definitely nervous about how productive this week will be for me.
The most logical way I’ll get distracted is by Finn’s gorgeousness and our hormones, but what if he has a lot of calls and is very loud? What if he eats at his desk? What if the whole place is a mess while he works?
He’s assured me he’s not, multiple times, and he confessed how he got Beau to haul over the borrowed desk from his mom’s house—one she assured us she never uses—so that I can have my own space in his big office. For whatever reason, we haven’t really worked at the same time when I’ve stayed with him. Instead, he’s worked at the dining table to give me space, and though I’m grateful, I want him to enjoy his amazing office. I don’t want to take anything away from him.
No matter how much I tell myself there’s just no way we’re going to clash so badly that we break up, my nerves won’t disappear until it’s time to actually get to work.
It’s also hard not to let my mind get away from me with fantasies about what our future as a couple could look like.
Living in Crushville seems like the most idyllic thing in the world, and Finn’s house is gorgeous—not only his office. His family is great, loving, and welcoming too. His grandmother—Lala, as she asked me to call her—declared I’d be her new pupil on how to make and prepare all kinds of pasta.
Finn and Beau both assured me I wasn’t taking anyone’s spot since they’re all very well trained already, but I still felt so unsure about how easily they all brought me into the fold.
I guess old habits die hard, but my heart sings with joy every time they automatically include me in something. The logical—a.k.a. damaged—part of my brain won’t let me just feel that joy and warmth. I’m constantly battling thoughts of disaster and heartbreak and rejection, but Finn has been wonderfully patient with me.
This week, I want to show him that I’m just as invested in this relationship as he is. I want to show him that I want us as much as he’s shown me he does.
I want to give the other side of my brain—the hopeless romantic and forever starved for love part—a bigger stage. I want to listen to that part more than anything. I want to dream of living in Crushville in Finn’s home, and make it my home too, without dread filling up the pit of my stomach like a stone.
I want... forever.
And that’s scary as fuck.
But I’ve been brave before. I know I can be brave again.
Just then the players of Las Vegas come out for warmups and the crowd boos with abandon until Charlie glides onto the ice—almost the last to do so.
For him, the crowd cheers and claps. I guess they really do love him here even if he’s never played for this team.
Hometown hero seems to be the general feeling toward him, and I can’t say it doesn’t warm my heart, the way he smiles and waves at the crowd.
Santa comes onto the ice after him but he doesn’t look around at all. He’s laser-focused on the ice in front of him and on the other players.
In the month I’ve spent dating Finn, we’ve watched a lot of hockey. Mostly the Pirates’ games but also a bunch of others. I’ve noticed that Santa never pays any attention to the crowd. Hell, he only pays attention to the players of the other team when they’re actually playing, and my guess is not one of those players wants Santa’s attention on them.
He’s a beast and a hell of a player in my humble opinion.
I’m jostled out of my musings when someone bumps into me, and I would almost have fallen against the people in the seats next to mine if I hadn’t been holding on to the back of the seat in front of me.
I turn around, a frown already marring my face, and freeze.
Rick .
My ex, who’d made my life miserable until I escaped his clutches.
“Little Lou,” he says in a surprised tone that’s as fake as his spray tan. “What are the odds? I never pictured you as the type to come to hockey games.”
That might not sound like an insult to the people listening around us, but it sure as fuck is. “Not the type” was a very common phrase for him.
“Well I am,” I say through clenched teeth.
Safe to say, Rick and I ended on bad terms, and his fake smile is not going to make me forget that. I won’t let it. Even though he’s a manipulative fucking con artist who’s weapon of choice is gaslighting—and his fists—I’m no longer scared of him.
“Now, now, little Lou. Why are you so tense?” he croons like the slimy slimeball he is. He raises his hand and I automatically flinch away, but he pats my cheek like that’s a normal thing to do to anyone. I cringe away, and I’m about to tell him to fuck off when there’s a sudden crash right next to us.
And that’s when I see two hundred and eighty pounds of angry Russian hockey player glaring at the hand still touching my face . I’m as surprised as anyone—and by the gasp going around the section it’s a lot of surprise—that Santa’s attracting so much attention on my behalf. But I’m glad, because with Rick now focused on someone else, I can finally shift back enough so his hand isn’t touching me any longer.
I can’t seem to look away from Santa’s terrifying expression. If he were looking at me like that, I’d shit my fucking pants on the spot. I look over and Rick the asshole is somehow still standing there and not vaporized.
“Fuck off,” Santa says shortly. And my gaze ping-pongs between the two men. Rick’s eyes are wide open and afraid, and I can’t be sure, but I swear I see a tremor go through his whole body before he shakes his head. That’s not good. “No? You need me to come out there and show you the way out?”
Santa’s screaming now, which means he’s somehow even more scary, and Charlie stops by his side a second later and assesses the situation. He pats Santa’s back, and then he just... skates away. Why is he going away? This is not the kind of situation that you simply skate away from, dammit.
Santa lifts a gloved hand and points at Rick.
“I said. Fuck. Off. Before I go out there. Leave Lou alone.”
“Wh-what?” Rick stutters and rears back. “You know Lou?” he demands, like that’s a disgusting notion.
“That’s none of your business, asshole.”
That seems to bring back the dickwad I knew and thought I’d loved. Rick stands taller, pulls his shoulders back, and tilts up his chin like he has any reason at all to look down on Nikolay fucking Brotnik.
“It is my business since he’s my boyfriend.”
“No I’m not,” I shout emphatically before he’s even done speaking. “I am not your anything dickwad.”
“Definitely not his boyfriend,” comes a new voice from behind Rick. We all turn to see Finn there, with Beau next to him looking big and intimidating. Rick takes a step toward my actual boyfriend and I see red.
I’m about to jump up on Rick’s back and fight him myself when two security guards appear and escort him away in no time.
It’s only then that I look back toward the ice and see Santa smiling at me. He nods once, then winks—which I’m pretty sure makes the woman behind me faint—and then he’s off to the other side of the ice, continuing his warmup like nothing happened.
“Are you okay?” Finn asks me the next second. I look up at his worried frown and hug him.
“Yeah, I’m okay.”
* * *
The rest of the game is a lot less eventful—at least in the stands—but I end up having a great time with Beau and Finn.
The people around us all have nice things to say to me throughout the game when there’s the usual lulls in action, and that’s nice I suppose, but none of them intervened in the moment so...
Yeah, I don’t miss any of them when we leave to go meet Charlie and Santa in the tiny room reserved for the families of the visiting team.
Finn jumps off his seat and hugs Santa as soon as he’s through the door, to my and Charlie’s amusement.
“Thank you,” is all my boyfriend tells him, and Santa looks just bashful enough for me to react.
“Aww,” I say for some reason. Then I get my wits about me. “Yes Santa, thank you for your intervention.” He nods at me seriously then looks back at Charlie with a raised eyebrow.
“Yes,” Finn’s brother says quickly. “Should we go? We have a flight tomorrow night and I want to spend as much time as possible at home.”
“You can stay at my place,” Beau says way too quickly , but since we all know he’s had a shit month no one protests. Charlie just nods, Santa shrugs, and Finn claps his hands.
“Let’s hit the road, then.”
Traffic is doing its usual thing, so it takes us a little over an hour to get to Crushville and to their Mom’s place.
I don’t stifle the dreamy sigh that comes out of me when we drive down Main Street. It’s all decorated for Easter and the town looks as perfect as can be. Finn has told me all about how amazing it is in the deep winter, which I just barely missed, and how the whole town comes together to decorate for Christmas the Monday after Thanksgiving. I send a secret wish to the universe that Finn and I will still be together by then so I get the chance to see it, but I have a strong feeling we will.
I scrutinize the house when we park up front—Finn told me how she’s won the prize for best decorated house every year since she started living there fourteen years ago, when Charlie bought it for her. As we walk up to the front door, I can picture how she probably covers every available inch with lights. Maybe she puts those inflatable snowmen on the front lawn? Or a Santa. I once saw a house that had one of those yellow Minions up front... It was wearing a Santa hat and had a candy cane.
The image comes to life in my brain and I look toward Finn. He opens the door without knocking, like he’s as much at home here as he is at his own place.
He turns to look back at me and gives me that small, content smile that always makes me think of forever with him. That’s what I want, and I’m going to work like hell to make sure I get it.
“Coming, cutie?” he asks with that beautiful smile.
“I am,” I say and walk up to him, take his hand, and reach up to kiss his lips. “Love you,” I murmur.
“Love you too,” he whispers.
It’s fast.
We talked about it when he blurted it for the first time and I followed him right after, but fact is, neither of us really cares that it’s fast.
I trust Finn, I believe I can tell him anything, and that he can do the same. We both are in this for the long run, and I’m not going to pretend I don’t love him to wait for an appropriate amount of time.
With him I can be myself because he sees all of me, and somehow he loves all of me too.
Why would I hold back?