“Dinner’s ready!” Cheyenne calls out from the kitchen, and there’s a general movement toward the dining area.
I hang back for a moment, taking in the scene. My home—our home, really, though Cheyenne still keeps her place—is filled with people I care about, everyone talking and laughing together. The air is rich with the scent of home-cooked food.
“Hey.” Cheyenne appears at my side, slipping her hand into mine. “You okay? You looked lost in thought.”
I squeeze her hand, bringing it to my lips for a quick kiss. “Just taking it all in. Our first Friendsgiving.”
“First of many?” she asks, a question in her eyes that goes beyond just holiday traditions.
“Definitely,” I tell her. “First of many.”
She smiles, leaning up to press a quick kiss to my lips. “Come on, hockey star. Let’s go feed our friends.”
Together we set the table and everyone settles in. Throughout dinner, I try to act normal, joining conversations and laughing at Blaze’s stories, but my awareness of my teammates’ movements around my house makes it hard to focus. Cam casually adjusts the lighting, dimming the main overhead fixtures while brightening the lamps in strategic corners. Nila disappears into the hallway and returns without her bag, giving me a subtle thumbs-up that I assume means the candles are in position.
Blaze and Addy take turns slipping away from the table, presumably retrieving and arranging the photos I’ve collected over the past year—snapshots of our journey from friends to something much more significant. The jewelry store photo that caused such a stir, the Christmas tree adventure, our New Year’s kiss, beach trips and hockey games and quiet moments at home.
Kade catches my eye across the table and gives me a reassuring nod. Everything is going according to plan. Paul has Genna and Chey thoroughly engaged in a debate about the bestThanksgiving side dish, keeping their attention away from the subtle preparations happening around her.
The guys who’ve had my back on and off the ice for years are executing the most important assist of my life with military precision. Cam, Kade, Blaze, and now Paul. My team. My brothers. It feels right having them here for this moment.
“Who’s ready for pie?” Cheyenne asks. There’s a chorus of appreciation from around the table as my teammates exchange knowing glances.
“Actually…” I stand up and offer my hand to Cheyenne. “Before dessert, there’s something I want to show you.”
She looks up at me, surprised but smiling. “Right now? But the pies—”
“It’ll just take a minute,” I promise, my heart racing as she places her hand in mine. “It’s important.”
“Okay,” she agrees, allowing me to help her up. “Lead the way.”
As I guide her away from the table, I catch Kade’s eye one last time. He mouths “You’ve got this” as we pass, and I nod gratefully.
The corner of the living room has been transformed in the short time we’ve been eating. The overhead lights are dimmed just enough to create a warm, intimate glow, with string lights twinkling along the window frame. Flameless candles are arranged on the side tables, their soft flickering addingto the ambiance. And the photos placed along the wall and the surfaces create a timeline of our relationship.
Cheyenne slows her steps as she takes it in. “Dylan, what is this?”
“Just a little something I put together,” I say, my voice miraculously steady despite the earthquake happening in my chest. “To remind us how far we’ve come.”
She moves closer to the display, reaching out to touch one of the frames. “These are all pictures of us,” she says softly, turning to look at me with wonder in her eyes. “When did you do this?”
I take a deep breath, gathering my courage. Behind Cheyenne, I can see our friends watching from a distance, trying to appear casual while not missing a moment. Paul has his arm around Genna, who looks confused but intrigued. Cam actually has a hint of a smile. Nila is recording the whole scene on her phone. Blaze and Addy are grinning from ear to ear. And Colton is whispering up to Ella and Kade, probably wondering what the heck is going on right now.
“I had some help,” I admit, taking her hands in mine. “I wanted everything to be perfect for this moment.”
Understanding dawns in her eyes, and her lips part in surprise. “Dylan...?”
“I love you.” The words come out easier now than they did the first time I said them, but no less meaningful. “More than I ever thought possible. And I’m ready, Chey. Ready for everything, with you.”
I reach into my pocket, fingers closing around the velvet box that holds our future. The room seems to hold its breath as I drop to one knee in front of her, ring extended, heart exposed.
“Before you, I thought I wasn’t cut out for this—for real love, for forever. I was so sure that staying unattached was safer, that keeping things casual meant I couldn’t get hurt. But you changed everything, Chey. You made me want to be better, to try harder, to risk more. And every day with you has been better than the last.”
Her eyes, those beautiful hazel eyes that shift between green and gold depending on her mood, fill with tears. I can hear my pulse thundering in my ears, and I can feel every molecule of air between us. A year of loving her—of learning her, of growing with her—has led tothismoment, and now that it’s here, I can barely breathe. The world narrows to just her face, her expression as she processes what’s happening.
“I want a lifetime of days with you,” I continue, “Cheyenne Blackwell, will you marry me?”
“Yes,” she says, the word coming out as a half laugh, half sob. “Yes, Dylan. Of course I will, yes.”
