Epilogue

DARCY

One morning in early September, Hayden and I lie in bed, catching our breath after an enthusiastic round of morning sex.

"Ready for preseason?" I ask.

"Mhm." Leaning back against the headboard, he smiles to himself like he just thought of something. "I used to dread the end of summer. I think because it always meant I wouldn't get to see you as much."

I hum, resting my chin on him. "Me, too. I'd always miss you during the season."

He skims a hand up and down my bare back, toying with my hair and sending tingles down my spine.

At the end of last season, the Storm were eliminated in the second round of playoffs—further than the team has made it in years. The guys were disappointed, but Ward assured them a slow, steady incline is the way to go, and that next season, they'll be even better. He told them he was proud of how they played and he was proud to be their coach.

He looked at Hayden when he said that, and I couldn't help the proud, expanding feeling in my chest.

Along with the players, Ward gave the analyst team the summer off, but I'm on my laptop every day, tinkering with the models, reviewing game footage, following the data and looking for patterns. Hayden pulled me away for a trip to Hawaii with Jamie, Pippa, Rory, Hazel, Alexei, and Georgia, who still won't speak to each other except for snarky comments. On weekends, we take our new boat out, meandering through the Gulf Islands, watching the sun sparkle off the water.

After the media shitstorm, rumors that Kit didn't get along with his teammates anymore were only amplified when his contract ended without renewal. He's a free agent now, but no team has picked him up. He created this mess, but I still pity him. Hayden and I have so much, and in comparison, Kit's life has gone down the toilet.

Summer being over means we're going back to real life, but with Hayden, our "real life" feels better than I could have imagined.

There's something I've been wanting to tell him for weeks. I focus hard on trailing my finger over the ridges and lines of his chest.

"I'm ready for a ring. I mean, if you want to. Or, when you're ready to give me one."

His eyes spark, but they narrow like he's confused. "What do you mean?"

"I mean…" I suck in a deep breath. "When you're ready to give me a ring and take the next step, I'm ready to say yes."

He scratches his head, making a confused face.

"That thing we talked about at the end of last season?" I widen my eyes and make a gesture between us. "The thing I was super nervous about in the past but am no longer nervous about with you because I love you and want to be with you forever?"

"You want to get a dog? "

"Ask me to marry you!" I burst out. "I've been waiting all summer!"

He doubles over, laughing, and my jaw drops in annoyance, but I can't help but laugh, too. "Hayden. You're being obtuse on purpose."

His chest shakes and the smile he gives me warms me from head to toe. "Yes, honey, I know what kind of ring you're talking about. I've had it for months."

My heart stops. "You have?"

His gaze is soft, patient, and gentle. "Mhm."

"Where?" I try to get out of bed, but he locks me against him.

"None of your business."

"Can I have it now?"

"No." He snorts. "You can wait."

"But I just said I'm ready." I make a hurry up motion. "Let's go."

He laughs again. "I'm not going to propose to you here , Darce. It has to be special. You deserve memorable and special." He runs his hand through his hair. "Besides, I wanted to check if you'd rather pick your own out. We can go to a store. You can have something designed. You can get whatever you like?—"

"I want whatever you chose for me." About once a month, Hayden buys me a piece of jewelry. He's proven to have incredible taste, always selecting pieces that are special and environmentally conscious. I've told him a million times that I don't need it and that he's spoiling me rotten, but he won't be deterred.

Spoiling me rotten seems to make Hayden Owens very, very happy, actually, and watching him get what he wants makes me happy, so everyone wins.

He tugs on a lock of my hair. " You want a coffee?"

I stare at him. "How can you be so casual when we just had a monumental conversation?"

"It's not monumental to me, Darce. It's been a long time coming, and I've been ready." He slides out of bed and gives my butt a light slap.

I watch him stride out of the room, eyes on his toned ass. "You're really going to make me wait?"

"Frustrating, isn't it?" he says in the doorway, amusement in his voice. "Eight years, honey. That's how long I waited for you."

A low noise of impatience scrapes out of me and I fall back on the bed.

Hayden just laughs and shakes his head, eyes lit up. "And it was worth it."

At least a dozen times over the next two weeks, Hayden stops to tie his shoe—in the middle of the street, beside our table when we're out for dinner, on a little bridge over a creek, even in the shower.

"Those don't even have shoelaces," I say when he stops to inspect his slip-on sneakers.

He makes an innocent face. "I thought there was a rock."

By the end of the week, when he takes a knee in the park under the trees with their autumn leaves, I don't even stop walking. He jogs after me, laughing as I roll my eyes and hide a grin.

"Are you nervous I'll say no?" I ask one morning as he washes my hair in the shower, massaging conditioner into my scalp and melting my brain. "Is that why you're torturing me like this?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. "

"I'll probably say yes."

"Probably?" Hayden grins down at me, glancing at my chest as water runs down my skin. "You're kidding, right?"

"Two can play at this game."

Finally, near the end of September, Hayden and I walk through our favorite park in the cool autumn sun. We approach the bench we always sit on, and his warm hand slips around mine, tugging me toward it.

"Let's sit," he says.

I plop down on the bench. Hayden doesn't sit, though. Hayden reaches into his pocket. My pulse skips, but this isn't the first time he's tried to fool me.

"Ha ha." My smile is indulgent. "Reaching into the pocket now? I see you're leveling up." I squint around the park. "Hmm. Where's the photographer hiding, huh?"

Hayden grins. "About a hundred feet away."

"Very funny."

He sinks to one knee and my confidence falters. The way he's grinning at me, it makes my breath catch.

"You're really taking this joke far today," I whisper, holding his eyes. I think mine are the size of saucers as my heart pounds and my stomach flips over with excitement.

He tilts another grin at me. "Not a joke today."

I'm smiling, nodding, sucking in a deep breath. "Is this finally happening? You're putting me out of my misery?"

He laughs. "Yep. Are you ready?"

Always giving me the choice. I hold his gaze, certain, and nod.

His expression softens and his eyes warm as he takes my hand. "Darcy Andersen, woman of my dreams, will you marry me?"

"Yes," I say without hesitation, smiling. "I'd be lucky to."

"You haven't even seen the ring."

"I don't need to."

I memorize this moment—the way the sun feels on my skin, the sound of the birds chirping and the kids playing in the park, the breeze lifting Hayden's hair, and the way his eyes are blue like the sky. The feel of my hand in his.

"I'm sure, Hayden, and nothing can change my mind."

He arches an eyebrow and cracks the ring box open.

My jaw drops. "Holy." I stare at the sparkling gemstone, the palest pink, surrounded by a scattering of tiny white stones. It looks like something out of a fairy tale, like a prop from The Northern Sword .

And it's going to be mine. I'll get to look at it every single day and be reminded of Hayden.

"You like it?"

Speechless, I nod, and he smiles wider. I'm not really a jewelry girl, but Hayden's slowly changing that.

"They're all lab-grown diamonds, with recycled white gold for the band."

"It's perfect." My gaze rises to him. "You're perfect, and I can't wait to spend forever with you."

He slips the ring onto my finger, and we both smile at each other before he gets up and kisses me.

That evening, we open the door of the Filthy Flamingo to a chorus of cheers and applause.

"Congratulations, lovebirds," Rory says, grinning and handing us flutes of champagne.

Everyone is here—our friends, our parents, the team, and my colleagues, even Ward. There's a blown-up photo of us from the park today someone must have taken, of Hayden kneeling in front of me, holding the ring while I stare in delighted shock. From behind the bar, Jordan winks at me, mixing cocktails, and on the specials board above her, there's a new cocktail.

The Wingman—strong, sweet, and cheeky. The drink you didn't know you needed!

After everyone has congratulated us, Georgia pulls me away to inspect the ring.

"It turned out beautifully." Her smile is wistful as she tilts my hand back and forth, making the diamonds sparkle in the bar lighting. "Just beautifully."

My eyebrows lift in a teasing smile. "Did you know about this?"

She scoffs. "Of course. Everyone helped. Even the grumpy Russian." Her eyes dart down the bar. Hayden's talking with Rory, Jamie, and Alexei, who frowns in our direction, then quickly looks away.

Georgia sighs another happy sound and squeezes my hand, a smile softening her features. "I'm happy for you."

"Thanks, friend. We probably have you to thank for this whole situation. You and your obsession with lingerie."

Her mouth tilts, smug and amused. "You both just needed a little encouragement."

I shake my head, grinning. I can't even be mad. "You know who you sound like? Alexei."

She pretends to gag, taking a sip of her drink, and light glints off her hand, snagging my attention.

My eyes go wide. There's a ring on Georgia's left-hand ring finger.

"Wait." I catch her hand to look at the band. " What's this?"

She doesn't usually wear rings, and definitely not on that finger.

She shifts, shrugging. "Oh, that?" She clears her throat, gaze darting across the bar to something.

"Yes, this ."

She taps her upper lip with her tongue. "I got married," she says lightly.

" Married ?" My jaw drops. "To who? When? Why ? I didn't even know you were seeing someone."

I will never get married , she said last year during our double date.

Her pale throat works as she swallows, and finally, she meets my gaze. "Volkov."

Hayden and I walk home hand in hand, buzzing from happiness and the promise of what's to come. Probably those Wingman drinks, too.

"I guess I didn't make a very good player, did I?"

He laughs. "No, you didn't, and thank fuck for that." His mouth hitches higher as he looks down at me. "I wasn't either. I was always hung up on you."

"I'm okay with that." I bump my shoulder against him. "It worked out in the end. I can't wait to marry my best friend, Hayden Owens."

Emotion flickers in his eyes. "I can't wait to marry my best friend, Darcy Andersen." He stops walking, and with his hand beneath my chin, tipping my face up, he gives me a soft kiss. "I love you."

"I love you, and even though I was terrible at it, asking you to teach me to be a player was the smartest thing I ever did."

He laughs against my lips .

I rise up on my toes to kiss him back, my heart so full of love for Hayden Owens.

* * *