Epilogue One
ISAAC
Four Months Later—Summer
The new house in Pac Heights is big enough to run my business out of.
We needed a yard? We’ve got one. It’s not huge but it does have a greenhouse, which I thought we’d tear down, but Deacon nearly orgasmed when he saw it.
It’s currently undergoing renovations because it was practically in shambles, but Deacon’s already planned the layout, what he wants to grow, and is heavily into researching how to make all his future vegetables and herbs thrive.
Currently, he’s in the kitchen while I’m getting the main living area of the house ready for a dinner party in celebration of Evan coming into town.
He’ll be here for a week, which is the only reason I’m not complaining about the party.
If he were only going to stay the weekend, I’d be pissed if I had to waste an evening on anything but the three of us.
Nothing like a long distance relationship to make me realize how possessive I am.
Evan hasn’t seen the new house in person yet, and I admit I’m nervous about whether it meets specs or not.
Technically, it checks all the boxes we discussed Easter weekend, but home is as much about vibes as it is good flooring.
This will also be Deacon’s first dinner party since the one before Evan moved to LA.
We’ve been busy most weekends, back and forth from visiting Evan and recently with the move.
I’m less than thrilled about seeing Calyx and meeting his boyfriend, but since Sam is also Evan’s best friend, I’m going to have to hope it’s not a shit show.
The puppy is having none of the Swiffer.
He keeps jumping in front of the wet spray, not learning his lesson, getting soaked, then proceeding to sneeze repeatedly.
He’s an utterly ridiculous looking dog, with enormous ears, a stocky build and hanging jowls.
Every part of him seems to grow at a different rate and he’s as silly as he is stupid.
“Baz, I’m not saying it again. Move it.”
He moves it. Running in a circle around me, then meeting the spray just in time to get spritzed again.
“You can put him outside,” Deacon offers.
“He’ll just bark.” He found his voice last week. It’s been amazing. “I’ve told you I don’t want kids right?”
“Yeah, babe.”
“And you’re sure you’re good with that? It’s not too late to back out.”
“I don’t want ‘em either.”
Baz enters another sneezing fit. “Why do they make puppies?”
“I told you to stay away from Millie.”
I sigh. I’d gotten cornered in the stairwell when I was helping Deacon move some more of his things out of his apartment a month ago. Millie lured me into her Crayola box of an apartment to see the litter, and I’d walked out with a damn dog. I’m still not sure what happened to me in there.
I break down and put Baz outside so I can finish cleaning the floor, but then I have to clean his paws because he’s also a digger. When I’m done with that, I come back into the living room with a wet shirt and wiggly puppy only to find Evan locked in an embrace with Deacon in the kitchen.
I nearly drop the dog. The sight is so beautiful. It’s a double rainbow after a summer storm.
Deacon kisses Evan’s forehead as Apollo spots me and sashays over.
“You just gonna stand there?” Evan asks.
He’s turned to face me with that huge smile on his face that I would absolutely go to war for.
I put the puppy down for Apollo to deal with and navigate around the dogs to meet my gorgeous men in the kitchen. I wrap my arms around them both. “I thought it’d be another hour at least.”
They each put an arm around my waist, and we fit ourselves into a hug we’ve gotten pretty good at. Our bodies and heads slot into place, and I always swear I can feel the love flowing through each body to the next.
“I was able to leave a little early, and I got lucky with traffic.”
“We’re the lucky ones,” Deacon says.
“Mm…” I murmur in agreement.
“Why are you wet?”
“I’m just excited,” I tell Evan.
He laughs. “That explains the dirty dog smell.”
I wiggle out of the hug. “Jesus, I’m sorry.”
He grabs me by the front of the shirt and pulls me back in. “Don’t even.”
Deacon squeezes us tight. “We’re gonna need a shower.”
“I haven’t even gotten the tour yet,” Evan says.
“Shower’s part of the tour.”
“Oh, well, in that case.”
I kiss him, and his lips meet mine with more hunger than I was expecting.
“Babe, can you take a break?” I ask Deacon when I pull away to catch my breath.
“Hell yeah.”
Calyx is radiant. He’s one of the most genetically blessed men I’ve ever come across, but I almost can’t reconcile how happy he looks.
Even with Sam’s big hand settled on the back of his neck possessively, Calyx is chattering excitedly about the house and how much he likes everything from the size of it to the paint color to the furniture.
I’ve never heard him talk this much, and I’m almost positive I’ve never heard him laugh, but he’s like a different person.
Like he finally realized he’s in his twenties and not his forties.
“I mean I guess I’m not surprised you wanted to go big,” he’s saying.
“You planning to add more people to your polycule?” Sam asks.
He says it good-naturedly, so I don’t get defensive. “Nothing like that. I’m very happy with my current complications, but I’ve got some ideas on what to do with some of the extra space.”
“Care to share?” Calyx asks.
“Not yet.” I smile at my boyfriend when Deacon joins me, casually sliding an arm around my waist.
“He won’t tell us either,” Deacon says.
“It’s not a FaceTime conversation.”
He serves up the save I was hoping for. “Can I borrow you? I can’t find the immersion blender.”
Fuck if I know where it is, either, but I’m happy to go look for it with him. “Can I get you guys another drink?” I ask Calyx and Sam.
“We’re pacing ourselves until we see what witch’s brew Bailey shows up with,” Calyx says.
“Ah. Nice point. Well, help yourself to whatever you’d like.”
Deacon drags me away, telling me as we walk to the kitchen not to worry about the blender thing.
The house is slowly filling with the same crowd I met at the first party. All the finance bros and the pretty troublemakers Rachel and Priya, who brought their puppy, too.
I want to hate them for it, but I get it. I can’t leave Baz alone for a second. I’ve become the CEO who brings his dog to work with him, and now everyone at Polytech seems to think that’s okay to do, but I will say most of my employee’s dogs have way better manners than mine.
Evan is in the kitchen, eating off a fruit kabob while Miguel explains to him the current “off” status with Nathan. He winks at me when he notices me checking him out. He’s wearing what I can only describe as booty shorts with a matching, tight zip-up hoodie. His ass looks fucking edible.
“Wanna make out in the pantry for a few minutes?” Deacon asks.
I’m about to say yes when the front door opens and Evan cocks his head at whoever it is.
I turn to find Bailey and Millie coming in together.
Bailey’s got her chin up and a haughty look on her face. The usual tote bag hangs off her arm, but instead of holding a large container of something diabolically alcoholic, Millie is carrying two large mason jars in her arms.
“Are you—” Evan starts.
Bailey fixes him with a glare that could stop a missile. “Do not.”
“Wearing makeup?” he asks.
I look closer, and, indeed, there’s a faint shimmer on Bailey’s eyelids. Neutral, but glittery nonetheless. And her lips—well, they’re not quite as pale as usual.
“Shut up,” she snaps at Evan.
“Isn’t she fabulous?” Millie gushes, skipping forward to place the pitchers on the island.
Bailey, with her head down, is pulling things from her tote bag and placing them next to the mason jars.
“She is fabulous,” Malcolm says, having risen from the sofa to take in the transformation.
Beaming, Millie slides an arm around Bailey’s waist.
Bailey shudders, groaning audibly. “We talked about this.”
“I’m sorry?” Malcolm says. “You talked about what? With Millie.”
“About how this is just a date and I shouldn’t read too much into it,” Millie says.
“A date?” Evan asks, as shocked as the rest of the room.
Bailey aims her death glare at Millie. “The last one.”
Millie leans down and whispers something in Bailey’s ear, which, for the first time, is hidden by Bailey’s hair. It’s hanging long tonight, her tight, dark curls springy and glossy.
Bailey blushes, then says, “Anyway, this one’s spicy watermelon, and this one is lime with beer, and I would suggest caution—the beer ones go down pretty easy.”
“Holy shit,” Deacon says.
“Do you need a minute?” I ask him.
“I might need several.” Letting go of me, he walks over to Bailey, frowns down at her, and says unequivocally, “Glitter looks fucking great on you.”