Epilogue
Leif
The Forever Contract
It’s been a strange year. Definitely a winning year. I move into a new city—which was painful. I started playing for a new team. But the most important thing was that I finally got to tell Hailey how I felt about her—how much I loved her.
The New York Vipers won the league championship. I finally have that settled—sorry, Kaden. However, I’m about to do the most important thing, next to being at the birth of my baby girl. I’m about to ask the woman I love to be my wife.
Hailey is standing on the balcony, barefoot, wearing one of my hoodies and a pair of shorts, her hair up in a messy knot. She’s holding Luna against her chest, swaying slightly, humming some soft melody under her breath.
The moon reflects off the water in the pool, the skyline stretching behind her like a damn painting.
My two girls. My everything. I step onto the balcony, still wearing my dress shirt from the team’s post-game party, but the top buttons are undone, the tie long gone. The adrenaline is still buzzing in my veins, but all of it—all of it—fades when Hailey looks up at me.
She smiles, soft and real. “Hey, champ.”
My throat goes tight.
God, I love her.
I cross the space between us, pressing a kiss to Luna’s forehead before Hailey lifts her gaze to mine.
“You should be out celebrating,” she murmurs, voice teasing, but her fingers curl into my shirt like she doesn’t want me anywhere else.
I shake my head. “I am celebrating.”
Her lips part slightly, like she’s about to say something, but I slip my hand into my pocket, wrapping my fingers around the small velvet box that’s been burning a hole in it for weeks.
I take a breath, my heart hammering, and then I sink to one knee.
Hailey’s breath hitches, her eyes going wide, her arms tightening around Luna like she needs something to hold on to.
“Leif—”
“Marry me.”
The words are rough, raw, like they’ve been waiting to break free for years. I reach for her hand, my thumb brushing against her skin, and I don’t let go. I won’t let go.
“You are the love of my life, Hailey.” My voice drops lower, steadier, even as my pulse tries to outrun me. “You always have been. Before I even knew what love was, before I ever let myself admit it, it was always you.”
Her lips part, her eyes shining, her chest rising on a shaky breath.
“I don’t care if we plan some huge wedding, if we do it at city hall tomorrow, or if we just stay right here and say we belong to each other forever. I don’t care how it happens, Hailey. I just know that nothing in my life has ever made more sense than you.
“I don’t want a single second more without knowing you’re mine,” I say, my voice dropping lower. “Officially. Legally. Forever.”
Hailey blinks fast, trying to hold back tears. “You really want this?”
I let out a rough laugh. “I’ve always wanted this. You, me, her—this.”
She exhales, then lets out a shaky laugh. “God, I love you.”
“So, is that a yes?”
She sniffs, then nods. “Of course it’s a yes.”
I grin and slide the ring onto her finger, then push to my feet and kiss her—long and slow, pouring everything I have into it.
Luna squirms between us, and Hailey laughs against my lips.
“Sorry, baby,” I murmur, pressing another kiss to my daughter’s forehead.
Hailey grins up at me, eyes bright, skin flushed.
And just like that, the biggest win of my life isn’t the one I got on the ice tonight.
WHAT’S NEXT FOR THE CRAWFORD FAMILY PLAYBOOK?
Lucian and Olivia’s story
She’s got a scalpel-sharp tongue. He’s got touchdown hands. And their rules? Toasted.
I was just trying to move into my fixer-upper in peace. Then his dog broke into my kitchen.
And that’s when Lucian Crawford—NFL quarterback, professional menace, and the man who jogs shirtless like it’s his job (it might be)—stumbled into my life.
Now we’re sharing a fence, co-parenting his rebellious Vizsla, and exchanging wildly inappropriate texts that could definitely get me fired if I weren’t self-employed.
He’s hot, insufferable, and too charming for his own good. I’m sarcastic, broke, and trying to save my crumbling vet clinic without falling into bed with the hot redheaded next door.
He thrives on chaos. I am chaos.
So obviously, when he offers me a “roommate situation” while my house gets gutted?
I say yes. Because I make excellent life choices.
We have rules.
We have boundaries.
We absolutely, positively should not cross them.
. . . We definitely crossed them.
Now the only thing messier than my clinic’s plumbing is whatever’s happening between us.
And I’m starting to wonder if this was more than a bad idea in the making.
It might’ve been fate. Or worse . . . feelings .