Epilogue

I stretch out on the pool lounger, enjoying the feeling of tired muscles. Tommy and Eddie argue in the pool in the middle of a water-volleyball game, while Sebastian and Bethany make cocktails at the bar. Mark walks along the edge of the pool with two of their creations in hand. His shirt is cast aside and his skin has a golden shine from a summer spent touring hot European countries all on Damien's dime. I ended up sharing our location with Damien a few times, inviting him to join us for dinner and drinks and, for the most part, managed to make Mark be nice to him for a few hours. The trip was the perfect distraction while Ronan was charged and convicted.

Damien had this place ready and waiting when we came home; one of the nights I'd shared the kind of place I wanted. Somewhere near the beach with nice trails nearby. Somewhere a little bit away from the city so it was peaceful, but close enough to a major airport for Chris to be able to visit whenever he liked. He had a whole list of places to show us, but I didn't have to see more than the driveway here to fall in love. I tried to get Mark's input, but he told me he's happy with anything so long as we're together.

Mark sets our drinks on the table next to me and runs his fingers over my shoulders. "You're getting burnt," he says. He snatches up a bottle of sunscreen and I lean forward to let him apply it as I sip my cocktail. It's lethal.

"Jesus," I cough. "Are they trying to kill us?"

Mark, taking advantage of my moving to let him reach my back, slides onto the lounger right behind me. His warm hands run over my shoulders, then my back, and I relax with a sigh, letting my eyes drift shut as the application turns into a massage. "That feels amazing," I hum.

"Why do you keep inviting them over?" Mark asks.

"Because they're our friends."

Mark grunts. A summer of travelling together, just the pair of us, and rather than Mark getting sick of only having me for company, I feel like the opposite has happened. He gets irritated when anyone other than us is in the house. He makes a point of trying to get my trousers off if I'm so much as texting someone, never mind his antics if I'm on a call.

Mark's hands skim down my sides, travelling to my front. He pinches my left nipple and skims his fingers just above the band of my swimming trunks.

"If it was just us, I could get a handful of lube and slip my hand down your shorts. Give you a messy, sloppy hand job." Mark speaks low against my ear, hot breath dancing over sensitive skin. I twitch down below, doing my best to control my reaction. Everyone will see if I get an erection right now. I grip the arm teasing my stomach, squeezing Mark's warm flesh.

The fingers that pinched my nipple travel up until they're brushing against my collarbone. Then my jugular. Mark presses, his pressure applied slowly, but firmly. I have to lean my head back to release enough of the pressure to breathe. My eyes are still shut. My breathing is laboured. My shorts are filling.

My back rests against Mark's chest as my ass lies against his erection; I'm filling up fast, and he's at half-mast.

"I love you," I murmur. He could make me spill inside my shorts so easily. I have to trust that he won't let me embarrass myself in front of everyone.

"You think if you act cute I won't make a mess out of you?" Mark chuckles. His fingers tighten against my throat, and his other hand palms my hip bone.

The lotion bottle hits the tile with a thud. Mark's warm thighs press against mine as he tugs me back. I let him move me around with a smile and end up with my head resting comfortably against his shoulder. He kisses my cheek and releases my neck. I relax against him, lifting my knees.

Mark reaches to the table next to us and picks up his own cocktail to sip.

"Are you working tomorrow?" Mark asks.

"Damien set up an interview with his accountant for me," I tell him. "If it goes well, I'll start as his assistant next month." Chris's accounts don't take up much time, and though he was inclined to pay me a full working wage for barely part-time hours, I wouldn't let him.

"Why can't you just be a live-in boyfriend?" Mark grumbles, no real heat in his voice.

"If all I did was lie down all day, you'd be bored of me in half a second."

"That's slander."

I chuckle, then take another sip of the poisoned drink Mark brought me. "I'd get bored, too. Speaking of, did you check out the hiking club info I sent you?"

"Why do we need a club? We'll go ourselves." Mark's tone veers firmly into grumpy territory.

"How are you the same guy who played in dozens of team sports throughout college?" I wonder.

Mark wraps his arms around my waist, lightly massaging any bare skin his palms find. "I was part of the, ‘trying to get this damn twink to look at me' club."

I object. "Looking was never the issue." I tilt my head, trying to get a look at Mark's face but all I see is his blurred jaw. "I looked at you all the time. And I was so sure you hated me," I admit.

"And I was sure you hated the fact that you fancied me," Mark says. "And half the time, I thought you just hated me."

"I never hated you."

"Never hated you either, babe." Mark kisses my cheek. "Fancied you from the moment we met."

I preen in his arms.

"I talked to Damien the other day," Mark says.

"Willingly?"

"He's going to get some contractors out here and build a sunroom around the pool, and get some heating installed in it. That way, you can keep swimming after the temperature drops."

"Uh…aren't we renting?" I ask.

"That jerk bought the place," Mark tells me casually. "He was going to buy whatever place we ended up living in."

I blink. "Seriously?"

"I told you he's controlling," Mark says, but he doesn't sound bothered. "But he's not allowed over unless I invite him. I made him sign a contract."

"What about if I invite him?"

Mark sighs. "He asked the exact same thing with a smug look. You need to stop being nice to him. He's using it against me."

"I mean, building a sunroom around the pool so I can keep swimming in winter is a pretty nice thing to do?" I eye up the blue water. My swimming prosthetic is propped up next to the back door, drying out. It has been getting a lot of use over the past few weeks. Swimming is an exercise I can do to exhaustion and not be sore in any way afterwards. It's really, really nice having something like that again.

"I asked him to do that," Mark grumbles. "Don't give him any credit."

I chuckle. "You're the definition of the spoiled youngest." I crane back my head so can I press a kiss to his neck. "Thank you, though. I appreciate it." I decide not to fuss about the money side of things. Mark doesn't, and Damien clearly doesn't think twice about spending money for Mark, given that he bought this place. "Maybe I should just be a live-in boyfriend?"

"Please. I hate having to share you with anyone."

"We all know that, dickhead," Tommy's deep voice chimes in. He strides past us and lays out on the lounger right beside us. Before long, Sebastian joins him, giving him a drink, and then Bethany joins Eddie in the pool.

"Louis couldn't make it?" Tommy asks. He lies back, hand idly sinking into Sebastian's hair as the smaller man drapes over him.

"He has work," I say. "He's going to come next weekend."

"What? I thought we were going to be alone next week?" Mark jumps in.

I ignore the bad-tempered remark. "How is work experience going?" I ask Tommy, steering the conversation away from Mark's grumpiness.

Tommy chats with me, only stopping with a chuckle when Sebastian's soft snores interrupt him.

It's domestic and relaxing, and even though Mark complains, he's social, too. It's only when the sun loses its radiance and I shiver do I twist, curling into his warm arms. "What should we do for dinner?"

"If we can get rid of everyone, I think something with mango would be very filling." Mark murmurs.

I blush. Ever since our first time, Mark always buys edible mango-flavoured lube. We've stopped using condoms, which we discussed and agreed to during…hmm…was it Venice? Or were we in Pescara when that conversation took place? It wasn't exactly a mature discussion. More one of need and want, and me telling Mark I wanted him to come inside me so I could see how it felt. We haven't gone back since.

"Later? We can…be quiet?"

Mark laughs.

I swat his thigh. "I can be quiet. I was quiet in Paris!"

"Oh babe, you think that waiter didn't hear you?" Mark asks, his eyes shining pure devilment. "Poor guy could barely walk after listening to you take my cock. And you think in—"

Mark catches my wrist as I try to swat him again. "God, I love you," he says. He drags me around to kiss, and even then, he's laughing. "You're so innocent," he says into my mouth.

I grumble. "I'm not innocent. You took my virginity."

His cock twitches against my ass. He rubs my collar bone, slipping tongue into the kiss. I groan. And then quickly catch myself because that was loud. I jerk my gaze around, embarrassed as hell. Bethany and Eddie are at the bar, too far away to have heard. Face burning, I peer to my side where Sebastian is conked out and Tommy has his ears plugged with his fingers, muttering what sounds like a curse to himself. His eyes are shut.

Mark shifts me. He snags a pillow he'd been leaning against and, without preamble, throws it at Tommy.

"—the fuck?" Tommy's eyes flash open.

"We'll get dinner started," Mark says.

I lean forward as he gets up, and I'm grateful he keeps his body angled away from Tommy, hiding his tented swimming shorts. He stoops, retrieving my crutch from where I let it fall earlier.

"Tommy," Mark calls as we get to the door. "Music is connected to Seb's phone. Turn up the volume, yeah?"

Mark shuts the door as a pillow is launched straight at him.

Face burning, I glare at Mark as he turns to me. But it's hard to stay mad. He's smiling, his eyes soft. And as he catches the hand not holding the crutch and leads me toward our bedroom, I follow without resistance.

"We can't have sex," I say as we enter the bedroom. Because I definitely won't be able to keep quiet for that.

"I know, babe. I'm only going to mess you up a bit."

"Mess me—" I cut off with a surprised cry. Mark's sudden shove sends me flat onto my back on the bed. "Don't be so rough," I grumble, getting orientated on the bed.

"You love it when I'm rough," Mark says, no doubt in his voice. He takes my crutch, sets it aside, and then he's on me, and my hands are pinned down.

"There's sunscreen on the sheets now."

Mark rolls his eyes. "The sheets are about to get a whole lot messier anyway. What are you in the mood for? Blow job? Hand job? Want me to pin your hands and jerk off on you?" His voice is low and teasing.

I blink, blood flooding south as the possibilities blossom in my mind. "All the above?" I chance.

"Pick one."

"All."

Mark bends to kiss my mouth. "All, huh? You think you can keep quiet for all? "

Probably not. I'm the worst friend ever, getting caught up in enjoying the benefits of a boyfriend who always goes out of his way to make sure I thoroughly enjoy being intimate with him. Mark honestly goes out of his way in almost every aspect of our lives to make sure I'm comfortable. I'm fed. I feel good.

"I'm pretty sure you're the best boyfriend in the world," I tell him once our lips part.

Mark blinks at me, surprise flitting across his face. Slowly, his expression shifts, becoming more muddled as his cheeks redden. He ducks his head, and I only catch a glimpse of his smile before his lips are at the soft underside of my throat. "All it is," Mark promises. There's a pause. Seconds where he only breathes out, warm breath tickling my neck. "I love you, Kyle."

"I love you, too." I don't have to think about it. I love him; and I'm going to love him forever. "Can we get married?"

"Yes." Mark doesn't hesitate.

And I think he might love me forever, too.

* *