Epilogue

KNOX

I love Easton. I love him so much. I'm so happy I'm with him, but dear God, when does summer end?

I'm not saying the only reason East's and my relationship works is because we never see each other, but I'm beginning to think this might be the case.

We've got members of the Collective showing up here for his birthday at any minute now, and he's got dishes still in the sink from this morning and his clothes all over the bathroom floor. Give me another month for his season to start, and I'll go back to smelling those same clothes and missing him all over, but for right now, I want to burn them to teach him a lesson.

Moving in together because we never see each other is smart. When we're both home, we don't care about the mess or those annoying quirks everyone has. We get to enjoy each other because we know the next time we're apart could be for weeks on end. Eight weeks with no escape? All I can say is it's a miracle we're both still breathing.

He steps out of the bathroom with a pointed look on his face. "Did you seriously use the last of the toothpaste again?"

Oh, shit. That's what I forgot to pick up today.

"No? Yes? Maybe? "

His expression goes flat. "Remind me why I love you again."

"Because I never complain that you're kind of a slob?"

He thumps my chest. "I'm not a slob. I just don't think things have to be cleaned up within one second of making a mess. I tidy before bed, that's not a huge deal."

"Kinda is when your friends will be here any minute now."

Easton gives me his sweetest smile as he bends and picks up his clothes. "Better?"

"Much. Now I don't have to bitch at you."

Getting used to spending limited time together during the season was hard, but we found a rhythm. It worked for us. We had space to miss each other, and space to fuck like rabbits, and space to work out who we are as a couple.

And we've established we're the type of couple who needs to miss each other. Just a bit. This twenty-four seven living together over the summer has been the biggest relationship test we've faced yet, but through it all, it's become clearer than ever that Easton is my person. My messy, annoying person who likes to have toothpaste when he brushes his teeth.

"I wonder if I can get Ezra to show you his party tricks with the carrot," East says as there's a knock on the front door.

Whatever that means, I don't want to know because something tells me that when it comes to phallic-shaped objects, Ezra's answer will always be yes.

Oskar and his partner, Lane, show up first, and then Miles and Bilson show up at the same time as Tripp and Dex. Connor arrives next and is trailed by Aleks, Ezra, and Anton. Then Ayri, Foster, Asher, and Asher's boyfriend all round out the group. The place is cramped, reminding me of a college party, and it doesn't take long for the music to fill the house and the loud voices of rowdy hockey men to fill the living room. I'd be worried about hanging out with players, given my job, but I had an incredible first year, and Ron's hinted that if I keep it up, they might have a permanent NHL position for me in the next year or two.

All I have to do is remain impartial, and the guys from the Collective can try to win me over all they like, I take my job too seriously to let them. It's been great getting to know them over the year, and while I can never officially join, I was still cheering them on during the playoffs, even if none of their teams did win the Cup.

"I hope you know that none of us booked a hotel room for tonight and fully expect to crash where we pass out," Oskar says.

"Make sure you pass out on the front lawn, then."

I make eye contact with Lane over Oskar's head, who slowly shakes his head and mouths, "Hotel is booked."

"Little Kiki," Ezra calls, throwing his arm around East. "We made something for the birthday boy."

"We?"

"Me and Anton. It was a family crafting day."

"Oh no." Easton says that, but the smile hasn't left his face. And when Anton smirks and opens a box to show a tiara lying on velvet, I'm confused for a whole second. Until I look closer.

The plastic tiara has springs hot glued to it, and at the end of the springs are mini dildos spray-painted gold.

Because of course they are.

"My brother is not wearing that," is out of Connor's mouth before he can stop himself. "Ah, I mean …"

"Put it on me," East tells his brother.

I can tell Connor wants to do literally anything else, but he lifts up the tiara from the box, shoots me a kill me now look, and then sets it on Easton's stylishly messy hair.

My supermodel boyfriend has dicks on his head, and they bob up and down every time he moves. Wonderful.

Connor goes to run when Foster boxes him in. "Hold on, don't you want a birthday photo with your brother? "

"Don't think I do." Connor tries to sidestep him, but Miles nudges him back toward Easton.

Foster lifts his phone. "Smile and say penis!"

Literally every man around me does it, and the chorus of penis rings in my ears.

The night passes, and somehow, the more they drink, the calmer they become. I'm tipsy as fuck, everything out of Ayri Quinn's mouth is hilarious, and even when Ezra, East, and Oskar start dancing together, that override of jealousy the first time I saw them doesn't hit. Instead, my eyes follow East's every move, partially turned on and partially wanting to take over from the others.

So I follow that urge.

I shove the coffee table out of the way, then slip my arm around Easton's waist and pull him out of an NHL sandwich.

He lets out a gravelly hum, fingers dipping into the low neck of my T-shirt. "Is my man all jealous?"

"Your man is so jealous." Even though I've never thought of myself as a jealous guy, it turns out that when it comes to the man I love, I really, really am. "I'm the only one allowed to grind all over you and—" My gaze catches on the tiara, and I snort out a laugh. "I'm sorry, I can't take you seriously with that thing on your head."

Easton grins and pulls my arms around him, then straddles my leg and slow humps me to the steady beat of "Pony." "This time last year, we were getting ready for that charity match," he says.

Shit. That feels like forever ago. "Fuck, I was so excited to see you again."

"You were?"

"You have no idea. When Connor said you were the one who suggested me …" My hand dips to his ass to pull him firmly against my thigh. "I never thought it was going to lead here. "

"I always hoped every single moment with you would lead here. It was my entire fantasy dreamscape."

"Thank fuck you had faith in us."

His expression softens. "Always will."

"We've almost made it a year now."

"And I love you more now than when we started together. Even when you leave me with no toothpaste."

"I love you more now than ever before too. Even if you leave your clothes on the floor when there's a perfectly good hamper in the bathroom."

Easton laughs.

He's right though. The fairy tale is over, and this, what we have, it's real. Raw and messy and not always perfect. Longing and annoyance. The high I feel when I get to hold him again after so long apart. This is our life. We've made it work. And I know that after a year with him, we're going to continue to make it work.

Because I know how much it hurts when we're apart, and I'll fight to make sure we always come back together again.

Easton and I aren't meant to be separated for long.

That's real love.

The kind that can get through anything.

With Easton Kikishkin, I get to have it all.