Epilogue
TWO YEARS LATER – AUGUST
Elliot
The dock is warm beneath my bare feet, the wooden slats heated by the afternoon sun.
Throwing my arm back, I launch the ball down the sandy beach.
Boomer and Moose chase after it, their tongues lolling out the side of their mouths as they run.
Waffles trails behind, running as fast as her legs will take her.
She can’t keep up with the boys, only having three legs, but she tries.
Boomer jumps in the air and catches the ball, and then Moose is chasing after him as they run back to me. Waffles hasn’t even made it halfway before she’s turning around and running back.
“You get ’em, Waffles!” I call out, clapping my hands for encouragement. “Show them who’s boss.”
We got Waffles about eighteen months ago when Hunter responded to a fire and found her with an injured leg.
He took her to the vet, only to find out she was a stray, and her injured leg needed to be amputated.
The thought of her being overlooked in the rescue center broke my heart, so I begged Hunter to let us keep her.
She’s a three-year-old chocolate Labrador and the sweetest girl ever.
The name Waffles came about when she stole the waffles from Walt’s plate one morning when he wasn’t looking. It’s cute, just like her.
Moose is the latest addition, and we believe him to be around nine months old. Hunter found him too. He’d been abandoned in a box on the side of the road along with three of his siblings. I wanted to keep all of them, but Hunter said six dogs would be too many.
I think he’s wrong, but then he kissed me, and I kinda forgot my argument.
I keep telling him he’s like the dog whisperer for all the dogs who need a loving home. It’s a good thing we moved out of my apartment and into a house with a spacious yard when we did because we wouldn’t have been able to cope otherwise.
We moved into our house in Wicker Park after the season ended two years ago.
Hunter was right about having a dog in my apartment, because in the five months after we got Boomer, having to take him up and down in the elevator every time he needed to go out proved to be annoying, especially if he needed to go in the middle of the night.
We tried putting a patch of grass and some plants on the balcony, but Boomer wasn’t having any of it.
He took one sniff at it and gave me a look as if to say, “This isn’t real grass! ”
It was, but clearly, the boy has high standards.
One person who wasn’t happy about our move, though, was Blaine.
It turned out that even after we turned thirty, we still had this inseparable bond and a need to be near each other.
He eventually stopped beating himself over my late ADHD diagnosis, but in a way, it brought us closer.
He started reading up on it and got a better understanding.
We talk more openly now. My fear of being replaced has vanished, but I also think having Hunter helped with that.
Plus, he and Alex get on really well, and Hunter attends games with him whenever he isn’t working.
Then, three months after we moved in, the house next door to ours went on the market.
Blaine bought it without even speaking to Alex.
Luckily, Alex wasn’t mad about it, so now we’re living near each other again, and we have a gate connecting our backyards.
Something the dogs love because it means playdates every day.
We bought this lake house in Kelowna, British Columbia, after we were knocked out of the playoffs last year.
We spoke about maybe buying a second property for summer vacations and post-retirement but couldn’t decide on where.
We looked at houses in Vermont, Washington, Saskatchewan, and Nova Scotia, then came across a listing for this house on the Okanagan Lake.
Hunter took one look at the photos and fell in love instantly, so we arranged a viewing and made an offer the same day.
It has five bedrooms, and it even has an elevator for when Walt comes to stay.
And the best thing is? There are river otters in my backyard.
I mean, they might be wild and technically live on the lake, but I still class them as my pets. I get to sit on the deck and watch them forage and bounce through the hedges. My dream has been fulfilled.
But our hopes of becoming Stanley Cup champions three years running came crashing down during the conference finals.
It wasn’t helped by the multitude of injuries we were playing through.
Me included. I sprained my groin again during the second round, but I continued to play up until the very end.
My body was constantly covered in bruises from the sprain and various hits I was taking, but also from the regular anti-inflammatory injections I was having to take in order to play through the pain.
Hunter wasn’t happy one bit, but he gritted his teeth and supported me. Even so much as holding the ice packs on my body while I fell asleep on top of him.
But next season will be another chance, and I have a feeling it’s going to be our year.
I turn my head as Moose lets out a loud woof and spot Hunter making his way down the path. He shields his eyes from the sun with his hand and looks fucktastic in board shorts and a worn T-shirt.
The moment Waffles notices him, she forgets all about chasing the boys and makes a beeline for him, leaning against his legs as he rubs her chest. She adores Hunter. I’m pretty sure she hero-worships him.
Not that I can blame her. I worship Hunter too.
Boomer drops the slobber-covered ball at my bare feet, and I shudder at the wet feel.
“That is gross,” I tell him, bending down to pick it up before launching it back down the beach, then quickly jog off the dock to rinse my hands and feet in the water.
Hunter snickers as he steps up behind me. He wraps his arms around my waist and rests his chin on my shoulder.
“Hi,” I say, leaning into him.
He kisses my neck. “Hi.”
“Do you need me to do anything?”
“No, it’s all good. Everything is ready to go on the grill as soon as everyone’s here.”
Jackson and Zach announced their retirement at the end of our playoff run in June, and we all decided on a pact to spend time at everyone’s houses during the off-season.
Yeah, we still see each other as none of us have moved out of Chicago, but it was important for us to spend quality time together away from the city too.
So last month, we went to Zach and Carter’s place in Hawaii, and this week, we have everyone coming to stay with us.
“What do you think Walt’s doing?” I ask, smiling to myself as Moose ends up tripping Boomer.
“He’s either sleeping in that ugly-ass armchair, or he’s pestering Matilda to make him stew,” he chuckles.
“The armchair isn’t that bad,” I say with a small laugh.
Walt moved in to our Wicker Park house with us. We converted the dining room into a large bedroom, but with a couch and TV. And much to Hunter’s displeasure, Walt brought his favorite armchair with him.
Boomer comes crashing into us again. This time, Moose has the ball, but instead of dropping it, he puts it to the end of his mouth, and it pops out like a slingshot, hitting me square in the chest.
I let out a surprised noise, and Hunter cracks up laughing at the sight of the wet circle it’s left on my T-shirt.
“Why are my dogs gross?” I groan, immediately taking my T-shirt off before my brain can freak out about it.
“Hey, don’t lump my sweet girl in with them, hooligans,” Hunter defends, stepping back to stroke Waffles as she pushes her way between us, vying for his attention.
“Okay, so Waffles isn’t gross, but those two are.” I point at Boomer and Moose. They’re now rolling in the sand, playing happily. “We’re gonna have to hose them down before the others get here.” I spin around to face him. “Maybe you should do it. You’re good with a hose.”
His lips tip up in a smirk, and then he crouches down and flings me over his shoulder.
“Ahhh!” I yelp, trying to dodge Waffles as she tries to lick my face. “Put me down!”
Hunter takes off running down the beach, our laughter filling the air. The dogs chase us, jumping up and trying to get me.
He carries me up the stone path to the patio, where we have a hot tub and pool, and puts me down near the area where we hose down the dogs.
I blink, trying to clear my brain after being upside down, and I don’t have time to dodge Hunter as he picks up the hose and sprays me with water.
“Ah! Fuck! It’s cold!” I whine, scrunching up my face as I try to grab hold of him.
Grinning, he manages to soak me from head to toe before I wrap my arms around him and pry the hose out of his hands.
“You’re gonna pay for that, Lieutenant,” I warn, then let out a bark of laughter as I soak him too.
Thirty minutes later, the dogs are clean, and we’ve finished having a quick shower and getting changed when the doorbell rings.
Blaine, Alex, and Ernie are the first to arrive, along with Zach and Carter.
Having been here before, Ernie immediately runs through the house to the patio, where he joins the others.
Blaine looks around, like he’s looking for something.
“What?” I ask.
“Just checking you haven’t ended up with another dog,” he says with a playful grin.
“I know you’re jealous of my ever-growing furry family, but you know you’re welcome to take care of them anytime.”
He snorts. “Please don’t word it like that. Someone might take it the wrong way.”
Before I can ask him what he means by that, Ethan and Jacob arrive with their daughter, Olivia.
She’s almost eighteen months old and almost a carbon copy of Ethan.
The same dark hair, deep brown eyes. The only difference is Olivia is so happy all the time.
She laughs at everything and is constantly smiling.
She also loves animals, so I’ve taken it upon myself as an honorary uncle to buy her all the stuffed animals, and she loves the dogs.