Page 51 of Pucking Unhinged
His grin deepens, wicked and sweet all at once, and he reaches into his jeans pocket. When he pulls his hand out, he’s holding a gold key, a tiny pink ribbon tied carefully through the hole at the top.
“What is this?” I whisper, staring at the little gold key.
“The key to our cabin.”
My mouth falls open. I’m smiling, excitement bubbling up before I can stop it, but confusion lingers as I brush a snowflake from my lashes. “You rented a separate one?”
Tristan shakes his head, eyes bright, snow caught in his dark hair. He reaches out, brushing the powder from the end of my braid where it sticks out from under my hat, his touch so gentle it makes my chest ache.
“The guys and I bought the whole community on our street. All three cabins. My only stipulation was that we don’t live directly next to Hayden…” His voice trails off.
But I don’t let him finish.
A squeal bursts out of me as I launch myself into his arms, wrapping around him tight, legs cinched at his waist. I’m laughing and breathless as I pepper kisses all over his face, my lips catching his jaw, his cheek, the corner of his mouth.
“Ours is the one furthest inside the community, Callum and Lilac are in the middle one, and Hayden and Madi are on the other side of him,” Tristan tells me, but I’m having a hard time focusing on his words. All I can feel is him and the wild, impossible fact that he just gave me forever and made my Christmas wish come true.
“How did you manage to do all this?” My voice is still breathless, my hands gripping the back of his neck.
Tristan just shrugs casually, like it wasn’t the biggest surprise of my life. “Callum and I started negotiations with the man who owns them. He didn’t want to sell because he makes a heavy profit renting them out. So we sent Hayden to talk to him, and he agreed almost immediately. We think he just wanted to make Hayden go away.”
I burst out laughing, my nose and lips freezing in the night air, but none of it matters because my chest feels so warm itcould melt the snow around us. The excitement in me swells until it’s all I can feel…the future we’re about to build, the life waiting for us just beyond graduation.
“After graduation, can we live here full time?” I ask, hope tangled in every word.
He nods, “Before that if you want. Whatever you want is what I want.”
Something in me cracks open, too big for words. “I love you,” I whisper.
“I love you more,” he answers, his forehead pressed to mine, his breath a promise against my lips.
And in this moment, I realize that I have everything that I could ever want because of the only man I’ll ever love. I feel whole, so complete, because there’s nothing left to wish for.
EPILOGUE
WINTER
As we walk through the iron gates, my breath catches at the sight of the campus. St. Killian’s looks like something torn out of another century, stone buildings rising tall, and the walls covered in dark ivy. An extravagant fountain commands the center of the courtyard, water glittering as it arcs high into the air before crashing back down.
Students cross the lawn in neat lines, their uniforms pressed, like something out of a rigid boarding school instead of a ritzy university. The whole place feels heavy with tradition. I don’t know what I pictured when I thought of the school tucked away in the Irish countryside.
Students and teachers swivel like we’re a disturbance in their little world. Heads turn, whispers seem to move across the area and to be honest, I suspected that would happen. This is a surprise visit, and I gather that Sebastian has racked up quite the reputation for himself around here if he’s anything like Tristan. I also realize that no one here is expecting Sebastian’s twin brother, and most of them probably don’t know that Tristan even exists. Tristan’s jaw tightens, and I swear the glare he gives them could slice through stone.
I squeeze Tristan’s hand. “Be nice,” I whisper, and he groans in that ridiculous, dramatic way that always makes me laugh.
“They’re going to write Sebastian up because you’re sauntering around campus. No uniform and giving dirty looks to everyone who even looks at us,” I say, because I can’t help myself. I mean, we didn’t think any of this through. I had no idea that St. Killian was so strict. “We probably should have told him we were coming.”
Tristan snorts. “Good. I hope he gets written up. I might punch a couple professors on my way out just to set the tone.” His voice is flat, mildly annoyed, and extremely funny. I stop walking and yank on his arm, the way you do when someone’s being theatrically terrible. He drags me a step or two, because he’s so big and doesn’t realize that I’m trying to stop him. Tristan looks down at me, and he must realize that I’m not joking. I plant my foot and glare back at him. The look on his face when he registers? Priceless. He exhales, half-annoyed, half-amused. This is one hundred percent his fault for letting slip that his intentions for this little trip to visit Sebastian are not entirely pure.
Tristan might not forget anything, but I don’t either, and I know exactly why we’re here today. It has very little to do with wanting to check in on his brother since they haven’t seen each other for a long time in person.
“Did you bring me all the way to Ireland to punch your brother for interrupting our first morning together after we—” I cut off, because there’s too many nosy people here.
“HAD SEX?” Tristan bellows, too loud, and he’s super proud of himself. Tristan doesn’t even bother to whisper when he adds, “Yes, I did. I told him I wouldn’t forget, and I haven’t. I do want to check on him, make sure he’s okay after everything with our father. But I’m also going to beat the fuck out of him.”
I inhale before saying, “You said we were going to watch his rugby game!” I hiss, because of course that was the plan, unless his version of ‘watching’ involves punching people.
Tristan smiles. He likes when I’m exasperated and I realize all of this is by design. He knew exactly what we were walking into, and he thinks it’s hilarious. He slips his arm around my shoulders and then down my side, fingers warm along my ribs, thumb rubbing lazy circles down my body like he’s marking his territory with the trail of his fingers.
