We just need to go shopping for some furniture. I can imagine how we can decorate it. Comfortable and welcoming.
I’m just setting the garlic bread into the oven when I hear the front door open, followed by Chad’s familiar, cheerful voice. “Honey, I’m home!” he calls, and I laugh, wiping my hands on a kitchen towel as I turn to greet him.
Dean follows close behind, looking a little more reserved but with a softness in his eyes that’s becoming more familiar. Chad crosses the room in a few strides, sweeping me into a hug and pressing a kiss to my cheek. “Something smells amazing,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my ear in a way that sends a happy little shiver down my spine.
Dean comes up behind us, and I reach for his hand, pulling him into our circle. He leans down to kiss me, slower and more deliberate than Chad’s playful peck but just as full of affection. “Hi,” he says softly as his thumb brushes over my cheek.
Before I can say anything, the front door opens again, and Mason’s deep, familiar voice calls out. “I hope there’s room for one more,” he says, and he walks into the kitchen, a smilespreading across his face when he sees the three of us tangled together.
“There’s always room for you,” I say, my heart swelling as he joins us. Mason wraps his arms around me from behind, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. He smells like sawdust and sunshine, and I lean into his warmth.
Dean and Chad share a grin, and Chad playfully nudges Mason. “Don’t hog her,” he teases, his voice full of warmth rather than annoyance. The moment feels effortless, light, and brimming with love.
Mason releases me, a mischievous glint in his eye as he tugs Chad closer. “Jealous, Pretty Boy?” he murmurs, leaning in to press a soft kiss to Chad’s lips.
Chad smirks, his eyes lighting up. “I do like being the center of attention,” he admits, throwing a wink in my direction. I can’t help but laugh, the sound bubbling up easily. “But don’t forget,” he adds teasingly, “Lakelyn was mine first.”
Mason hums in acknowledgment, the corners of his mouth lifting in a smile, and Dean chuckles at their antics. Warmth rushes to my cheeks, and a sense of contentment spreads through my chest. Being here, with all of them—so full of love and laughter—feels like a dream I never want to wake up from.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” I say, feeling content in the circle of all of them. “Fresh pasta and garlic bread.”
Chad’s eyes light up, and he makes a beeline for the stove. “Do I get to taste test?” he asks, and I laugh, swatting at his hand as he tries to sneak a piece of the cold bread from the pan.
“Wait until it’s ready,” I scold gently, but he just pouts, and I give in, handing him a small piece. He lights up with a satisfied grin, and Dean chuckles.
Mason slips into the kitchen next to me, grabbing a cherry tomato and popping it into his mouth. I roll my eyes, but my heart is full. They’re all here, in this kitchen that smellslike home, and we’re together. There’s laughter, stolen kisses, teasing touches, and the warmth of knowing we’ve found something truly special.
This is what our future will be like,I think as I turn back to the stove, smiling at the sound of Chad telling some ridiculous story, Dean trying not to laugh, and Mason slipping his hand into mine. It’s love, in all its messy, beautiful forms, and I couldn’t be happier.
Epilogue
Chad
Six Months Later
The skyscrapers stretch endlessly above us, trapping the summer heat and amplifying the suffocating feel of the city. It clings to my skin relentlessly, and I wonder how I ever called New York home. The streets are alive with movement—honking cabs, street vendors, tourists craning their necks to take in the towering high-rises. It’s chaos. It’s nostalgia. And it’s too damn hot.
I swipe a hand across my forehead, grimacing.
Mason smirks beside me, his easy stride somehow unbothered by the oppressive heat. “Warm?” he asks, his tone light but teasing.
“Warm?” I shoot back, arching a brow. “If your sister were here, she’d say it’s hot enough to fry an egg on the sidewalk. So yeah, a little more than warm.”
He chuckles, the sound low and lazy like he’s basking in my suffering.
“I did offer to stay at the hotel,” Dean pipes up, his voice smooth as ever. He’s on Lakelyn’s other side, strolling like thisheat doesn’t exist. “Air conditioning. A bed. Nothing but each other’s company. Sound familiar?”
“Tempting,” I admit with a glance his way, unable to hide the faint grin tugging at my lips.
Lakelyn ignores us both. Her wide eyes are fixed on the glittering chaos of Times Square, where massive LED billboards light up the streets like midday. “This place is insane,” she breathes, turning in a slow circle. “I think there are more people on this block than there are in all of Blue Ridge.”
She’s not wrong. The streets swarm with bodies, voices layering over one another in a constant hum of activity. Once, this was my refuge—a place to blend in, to disappear. But now, it’s different. Now, the crowd feels distant, the noise muted, because my focus is on them.
I glance at Mason, his broad shoulders relaxed as he takes in the sights. At Dean, who leans closer to Lakelyn like her gravity is irresistible. And at Lakelyn herself, who’s still marveling at the city like it’s something out of a dream.
I let my gaze drift back to the skyline. New York isn’t home anymore. Home is wherever they are.
With a quiet sigh, I catch up to Lakelyn and thread my fingers through hers, my other hand brushing against Mason’s as we fall into step. Dean meets my eyes and smirks, like he knows exactly what I’m thinking.
