Epilogue

Mark

" H oney, I'm home!" Logan declares, as he strides into our new apartment.

This apartment is still in Bluehaven, but much bigger, nicer. It's the nicest place I've ever lived, actually, and that's not really a surprise. Brandon had lived in this same apartment building, and when he moved out, he steered Logan to his place. It's the sort of apartment building that has elevators made of lead crystal and gilded metal.

Once upon a time, I would have felt out of place in the lobby, much less one of the apartments. Needless to say, this place is significantly more expensive than the previous apartment Logan and I lived in. But somehow, officially dating Logan makes me feel more comfortable letting him shell out money for me. Of course, that doesn't mean I don't pay anything; I would never let Logan buy everything for me. But it's easier for me to let him get the rent, while I'm delegated to taking care of the most affordable bills—take-out, the water and internet bills.

"I never would have guessed," I reply wryly, lifting a half-unpacked box onto our new dining room table.

"Sorry, dearest," Logan says, grinning. "I just saw on Facebook that the Halloween store opened, and —you know me."

His car is probably crammed full of Halloween stuff, and if he'd had the keys for my car, a brand-new Nissan Versa, he'd have probably commandeered it to cram even more Halloween stuff. We'll go a week struggling to remember toilet paper, but the Halloween store? Logan is waiting there when the door opens.

"Oh, God. Not already. It's September 1 st , you absolute madman," I say.

"And?" Logan asks, sounding affronted.

"And it's weird."

Sure, I've gotten used to it, but sometimes, it's really fun to tease him.

Logan strides to me and plants a soft, quick kiss on my lips. Everything inside me flutters, and it takes all my willpower to look disgruntled and not wholly charmed by the gesture. He wraps his arms around my waist, clearly in an attempt to break my razor-thin composure.

"It's not like you didn't know what you were getting into with me," Logan says, grinning. "Just admit that you love me and are willing to let me celebrate Halloween all year long."

"Yes, I love you," I concede, " But I already let you bring that furry menace home."

Said furry menace was a tiny, black cat. Logan bafflingly insisted that the creature be called Sugar Cookie. I'd be lying if I said I didn't like the little feline, but Logan doesn't need to know that.

"Don't talk about our daughter that way," Logan says.

Our "daughter" doesn't even come to greet Logan when he walks in. That little monster has been spread across the bed, sleeping all day, and she shows no sign of stirring any time soon.

I roll my eyes and seeing that he isn't going to release me soon, I settle into his arms. "How was your first studio class?" I ask.

"It was fine," Logan replies. "Syllabus day. The usual. Kind of disappointing."

"That's how they suck you in," I say, "Syllabus day. Everything seems possible, and then you get to the middle of the semester, when everything just blows up in your face."

"Did you hear that they shortened the semester by two weeks, too?" Logan asks.

I hadn't heard that, and I grimace. "Sounds terrible."

"We'll get through it," Logan replies, "With a lot of caffeine and booze."

His hand pats my ass, shattering the semi-romantic mood. "I see where your mind is," I reply.

"Can you blame me?" Logan asks. "I didn't hook up with you because of your looks, but they're a nice bonus."

I swat his shoulder and laugh. I consider complimenting his looks, which are quite nice and very much a bonus, but Logan doesn't need anyone to stroke his already massive ego. "You're a real Casanova," I say. "I'm practically swooning over here."

Logan leans forward, kisses me again, butterfly-quick, and sends warmth flooding through my face and to the tips of my ears. "I like coming home and doing that," he says, his voice soft. "Now, are you swooning?"

Not on the outside, but definitely on the inside.

"I like that part, too," I reply. "It's a definite step-up from your compliments of dubious merit."

"Dubious? I said your looks were nice! What's wrong with that?"

I roll my eyes. "They're better than nice," I say.

"Magnificent. Astounding. Beautiful beyond compare," Logan pauses and winks. "Take your pick."

"Better," I say. "How was your day?"

"Well, it was fine, but as I was coming up the elevator, I thought of something distressing," Logan says. "When I get my doctorate, I'm going to be Dr. Smith, which is the most generic doctor name ever, and you're going to be Dr. Delacroix , which is way sexier. This is a problem."

"Gee, sucks to be you," I joke. "Sounds like I won the lottery with my last name."

Logan's eyes light up with mischief. "Don't be silly. I'm thinking that I'll marry you in however many years it takes for us to get our degrees, and then, I will be Dr. Delacroix."

"Then, we'd better not teach at the same university," I say. "Can you imagine how confusing that would be, especially since we're both in studio art?"

Logan rolls his eyes. "Where's the fun in not teaching at the same place?" he scoffs. "It's only fun if we get to use our same name to screw with people."

I roll my eyes but smile anyway. "Just so you know, this is the worst way you possibly could have chosen to propose. Do you even have a ring?"

"No," Logan replies, "But I hadn't really thought of it as a proposal. It's more of a pre-proposal. Testing the waters to see what you'd say."

Smirking, I lean forward and kiss him. I do it quickly, just like he does, and tilt my head back. My heart races. "Well, obviously, I'd have to say ‘yes'," I reply.

"Oh," he says, looking charmed. "Well, then. I'll have to find a ring. You should drop some hints."

"Hints?"

"Sure," he replies. "Zale's ads, that kind of thing. Christmas will be here before you know it."

I shake my head. "To think this whole time you only wanted me for my awesome last name."

"And your endless patience," Logan says.

"Oh, God," I say, "What have you done?"

Logan's smile widens. "I need your help unloading the car."

I groan. "You aren't serious."

"As a heart attack!" Logan replies brightly. "Come on! You know me. Of course, I did. It's what a good boyfriend would do."

Yes, I do know him. Very, very well.

"Well," I say, "Lucky for you, I am excellent boyfriend material."

The End