Epilogue
Demir
Five years later
I leaned forward on the motorcycle and angled around a slow curve. Rounding a hillside, I caught a long glimpse of the Pinelands out of the corner of my eye, but kept my eye on the road, knowing we were close to the resting spot and a much better view.
Behind me, Grayson steered his own motorcycle. When we first started riding together, I used to have to constantly fight the urge to turn around and make sure he was okay. I should have known, though, that he’d exhibit the same calm maturity with the bike as he did with everything else. Now, the sound of his ride behind mine tended to just make me feel secure.
I pulled off to a grassy bit of land on the side of the road, then parked my bike. The Wharton Forest was just across from Philadelphia in New Jersey, and our favorite spots were not far from the ocean and always close to the rivers that flowed into the Great Bay.
“It’s our last motorcycle ride,” Grayson said nostalgically, joining by my side. A black leather jacket hung off his shoulders, but he still had one of his standard blue Oxford shirts beneath it, just warm enough for the late summer air. “I’ll miss coming out here.”
“Me, too,” I agreed, throwing my arm over his shoulder. “Let’s make sure we still drive the car out for the view sometimes.”
Grayson nodded. “For sure. Anyway, I don’t have any regrets about it. What we just gained is much more exciting than we we’re putting away.”
“You can say that again,” I agreed, gazing out across the tall pine trees, rolling down the hills.
It had taken a little while to figure out all the pieces. How to shift our time, how to save the right amount of money. What would change, what wouldn’t change, what absolutely couldn’t change.
Giving up the weekly motorcycle rides didn’t only mean freeing up a good chunk of time. It also relieved some of Marco’s anxiety. He trusted us both and knew we were safe drivers, but still, I knew he imagined us speeding through the back hills and stressed himself out some weeks, and that made putting the bikes away an easy call.
After all, we had recently gained a whole new host of concerns to stress ourselves about, if we really wanted to.
“Oh hey,” Grayson said with a laugh. “I just realized something.”
“What’s that?”
“We’re going to have to get a new thing!”
I paused, then broke out laughing. I’d originally bought Grayson the motorcycle as a gift after noticing how much he admired mine. We’d been looking for something the two of us could have that was just ours, and somehow, I had known this would be the right thing. We both loved the quiet meditation of a long ride just as much as we appreciated the gorgeous natural views and the way we were able to connect when we were far away from the city.
“How about roller skating?” I joked.
Grayson laughed, then rubbed his hand across his beard. He had started growing it out on his face a couple of years ago, and I was still surprised how mature it made him look. If he ended up with gray hairs sprouting there in a year’s time like I did at that age, I wouldn’t be surprised.
“I guess all three of us have some pretty big new things together now,” he said. “But to be honest, I don’t really feel like I need to have something that’s just you and me any longer, you know? These last five years have been so amazing, I don’t feel like I’m the third who came into your relationship, the way I used to.”
I nodded and pulled him a little closer. “Me, too,” I agreed.
“Anyway,” Grayson said with a wink, “it’s not like we’re selling the motorcycles off or anything. What did we say? A few rides a year? That should be enough to keep your reflexes sharp, old man,” he joked, bumping into my hip.
“Okay, okay,” I laughed. “If you all think over the hill jokes are funny at forty, I can’t imagine what it will be like when I’m the first to turn fifty.”
Grayson made a noise, like a growl and a hum at the same time. “Sexy,” he said. “I can definitely imagine.”
I laughed, then turned my gaze back out the hills. “Thanks for riding with me, Grayson.”
“Anytime,” he said. “You know where to find me.”
GRAYSON
We got back from the ride and rolled the bikes into the garage we kept off the alley, dropping the protective cloths over them for the last time in a while. I pulled Demir in for a quick kiss, and we pushed each other back and forth against the wall for a minute, wrestling as our lips crashed together.
When we got into the loft, Marco was standing in the middle of the living room, Serena in his arms. He winked at us, cradling the baby from side to side.
Serena was six months old, but still, I tiptoed around like I was trying not to wake a princess whenever she was out like that. I just thought she looked like such an angel, I could barely handle it.
