Epilogue

Three years later

We left the truck at the train station parking lot in Ed and waited on the single platform. Bj?rn zipped my jacket up and kissed my forehead.

"It's not that cold," I said.

"You were still coughing last night."

"I wasn't."

Tilting his head to the side, he gave me his patient look. "Sure. Humor me, okay?"

Early spring was the worst when it came to school viruses. I always brought home the nastiest stuff around March and April, and the last flu had been awful. Bj?rn never got sick, but he ended up playing nurse. Not that he ever complained. Luckily, the weather prognosis promised warm and sunny days soon. I couldn't wait for the real spring to arrive in Gryta, with neon-green leaves and blooming blueberry bushes.

The train was late, but only by a few minutes. Just after six, it screeched to a stop by the platform, and about a dozen people got off.

Lars hopped down onto the platform and waved at us. He'd changed his hair yet again, and a brand-new piercing adorned his lower lip. He carried a simple backpack and an armful of flowers.

"Hi, guys! Can we get these to Mom first?"

We hugged, then Bj?rn took the colorful roses from him and ushered him into the car. For the upcoming few days, he'd be staying in Bj?rn's old one-bedroom. Madde usually rented it out to tourists, but the season hadn't started yet.

It had been two years since Linda died. As predicted, Lars sold the house and moved, all the way to Copenhagen. He got a job as a server and later a bartender at a gay club and seemed to be thriving. He was finally living the life he'd always wanted.

We drove directly to the churchyard in Gryta. Lars walked to the grave alone while we waited at the gate. He spread the roses around the gravestone and stood there for a while with his back to us. After a minute, he headed back to the car.

"I'll visit her again tomorrow. Didn't want to make you wait too long," he said when Bj?rn started the truck.

"We can wait. It's fine."

"Nah. I'll take a walk here tomorrow."

"Okay."

The next stop was Olaf and Fredrik's house. Olaf was making dinner and drinks, and Theo was coming later with his girlfriend, Sara.

"So, how's the hookup culture in the city these days?" Fredrik asked Lars as we sat at the table. "Are you still making up for lost time?"

Normally, Lars would joke and offer some crude descriptions of one of his adventures. This time, he grabbed his beer and took a long gulp. His ears turned red.

Before I could tease him, Olaf squealed. "Oh my God! Who is he?"

Lars put his glass down and glared. "I haven't even said a word."

"Your ears are red," Bj?rn said, pointing at Lars with his beer bottle.

"Fine." Lars rolled his eyes theatrically. "You can even babble to all of Gryta. I don't give a shit anymore since I don't have to live here. Ha!"

"Stop stalling and spill," Theo said. Sara, quiet as usual, stared at Lars with her big brown eyes.

"His name is Morten, and he's an architect. He's a little older than me, but I like it. We've been seeing each other for ten months, and he wants me to move in with him."

"You're monogamous!" Olaf cried.

Lars straightened in his seat, giving Olaf a patient look. "You're more heteronormative than a nineties romcom." He cut off a neat piece of salmon and popped it into his mouth, chewing slowly while we all gazed at him, waiting for an explanation.

"Morten and I are in love, yes. We hook up with other people but only together. His kinks are right up my alley. He likes it when he can decide whose dick goes up my hole, and I like being his good boy. So we have a lot of fun fucking around."

Olaf blinked, his mouth open. Sara was smiling all too knowingly, swirling red wine around in her glass.

"How old is he?" Theo asked.

"Forty-six."

Theo narrowed his eyes. "Really, Lars?"

"Hello!" Lars pointed to himself. "It's not like he's robbing the cradle."

"Are you happy?" I asked.

Lars paused, his forehead creasing, and then he gave me one of his rare genuine smiles. "Yeah. I am."

Bj?rn lifted his bottle. "Then I guess we drink to this Morten guy."

"To Morten, the kinky architect," Fredrik said.

A full-on blush covered Lars's cheeks when we clinked our glasses and bottles together.

"And what about you guys?" Lars turned to us. "When are you getting married?"

I sucked in a breath, and Bj?rn coughed next to me.

"You can't ask that, asshole," Theo groused, shaking his head.

"Um, actually." Bj?rn squeezed my thigh under the table, and I met his warm gaze. When I nodded, he faced our friends. "I asked Eric a couple of days ago. He said yes, but we haven't set a date yet."

Lars banged his fist on the table. "I knew it!"

"How could you have possibly known that?" Olaf protested.

Fredrik hugged me, and Theo clapped us on our shoulders before he went to raid Olaf's fridge, looking for "something with bubbles."

I'd leftthe porch light on before we went to pick up Lars. When we walked along the empty road late at night, the cottage shone like a lighthouse. I loved returning home. Whether I'd just been to work, grocery shopping in Ed, or vacationing with Bj?rn in Canada, at the sight of my cottage, my heart felt full and my head mushy.

We'd painted the new facade the traditional shade of red and the window frames white, as they should be. Last year, we'd extended the porch so now it held a table for six. As soon as the weather got reasonable, we'd be eating breakfast outside, even though I'd still need a fleece blanket. Bj?rn could sit outside in a T-shirt at fifteen degrees Celsius and not get cold. I'd thought that regular sessions in the bastu and bathing in the lake would toughen me up, but cold resilience seemed to be something I simply hadn't been born with. Good thing I had a cuddly fiancé who held me through all the frosty winter mornings.

Bj?rn crowded me in the hall, one hand on the bulge in my pants, the other on my jaw.

"Can I kiss you?"

The question held so many memories for me.

"Yes."

With his lips on mine, I backed into the kitchen. He pushed me against the table and got to his knees.

"Can I suck you?" The smile in his voice made me grin back.

"Yes."

He was dangerously good at this. Bj?rn's mouth on my dick was the fastest way to bring me to orgasm, and he used it to his advantage. My thighs were quivering when he slid up my length and licked my slit teasingly.

"You know I love all of you, but this cock… Mmm."

My laugh was cut short when he swallowed me to the root and hollowed his cheeks. Bobbing his head, he gazed up at me, raw desire in his eyes.

I would have warned him I was close, but he knew all my tells already. Instead, I grabbed fistfuls of his hair and feasted on the sight of my tall, gorgeous lumberjack on his knees at my feet, sucking me like he was starving for my cum.

He moaned around my cock, his hands working between his legs. His eyebrows drew together. God, I loved it when we came at the same time like this. His mouth tightening, tongue laving, eyes closing…

I came with the clear image of Bj?rn's orgasm-face on the back of my eyelids.

He shot up to kiss me, pressing our still-hard cocks together. His beard was growing out again after he'd buzzed it short, and I combed through it with trembling fingers as I kissed him back. The taste of my cum in his mouth didn't weird me out anymore. Secretly, I liked it. It was like a mark. A claim I had on him.

"You know I love all of you," I said when he broke the kiss to catch a breath. "But your mouth is the best…"

He laughed against my lips. Then his expression softened, and he cupped my cheeks.

"I want to marry you in June."

I sighed. "I told you, it's too early. Unless you want to exclude half of our friends, we can't pull that off. Madde would kill us."

"Then how about the first week in September? The weather would still be okay for an outdoor reception, and most people have nothing to do on weekends."

Still dazed from the orgasm and a little tipsy from the champagne we'd had, I couldn't find a fault with that plan.

"Okay. Let's talk to Madde."

I poked at the dimple in his cheek with my fingertip as he beamed at me.

"I love you, Eric."