Page 279 of Cross the Line
EPILOGUE
JAYDEN
FOUR MONTHS LATER
The trees have never looked so full and green as they do with the twinkle lights glittering along the branches of the evergreens surrounding the small clearing in the woods behind our family’s Aspen cabin.
With the sun lowering in the sky, touching on that ethereal golden glow that comes right before nightfall, the air is warm and buzzing with the quiet hum of voices behind me while I pace along the edge of the river.
I’m reading my messy handwriting over and over again. As hard as I’ve tried to memorize the words, I can’t. There’s always more I want to say. But that’s just who we are. There’s always more where Eli, Fin, and I are concerned.
Today,moreis taking on a new meaning on every possible level of our lives. Today surpasses every other life-affirming, dream-realizing day of my life.
Winning the Playoffs, lifting the Stanley Cup, and eating the biggest nest ofsunshine spaghetti—as Eli calls my pasta now—doesn’t come close to this. Not even the cheesy as fuck Lady and Tramp moment Fin was adamant on snapping for the shits and giggles that ended up on Eli’s socials.
Today will be the best day of my life. I only wish that I had the right words to communicate it as poetically as it deserves. Because not a single word on the creased paper I tuck back into my jacket pocket culminates to the magnitude of what I feel.
“Hey, man,” Matheo greets me with a slap to my shoulder. “I know you and Sylkes are religious with your workouts and shit, but leg day can wait for another day. You don’t want to be all sweaty and stinky on your wedding day. That’s…”
“I’m not sweaty or smelly,” I tell him, giving myself a quick sniff before I correct him. “And this is not a wedding, it’s a commitment ceremony.”
“Isn’t that the definition of a wedding?” Running his fingers through his hair, he rolls his shoulders back and stands taller. “Gotta look sharp, dude. Last thing you want is for your guests to be thinking your best man is smoking your ass.”
“Fuck me, I should’ve asked Dylan.” My quip earns me an elbow to the side as he steps in front of me and gives me a once-over.
“Jokes aside, I’m happy for you. Happy that you’re happy for real. That you found your forever, you know…” A serious weightiness pulls down on his brows as he rights my forest green velvet bowtie and fusses over the matching pocket square. “Marriage is a big deal. The paper element doesn’t mean shit without the commitment you make in here.”
He’s patting my chest when the crunch of dirt and stones behind us grabs his attention. Without a single glance, I know it’s Eli. My insides are pushing and pulling to take me closer to him with every second he hangs back. Watching… as he does.
“My mom says that anyone can be married on paper, but real commitment takes more than the best intentions and—” He pauses with a low chuckle, shaking his head down at the ground before he concludes, “What I’m trying to say is that I’m proud of you for fighting for the three of you, and if I were going to look up to anyone with this stuff, you’re the man.”
In true Matheo style, he shrugs the serious conversation off with a raspberry. I know that, in spite of his bravado, he’s nervous about today. It’s the first time since our Stanley Cup Champions party that he’s seeing her. And she avoided him the whole time. Today, there’s no avoidance with them both being part of the hand fastening ceremony.
“Anyway…” Matheo croons, turning back to our reflection on the surface of the water and smoothing his hands down his green velvet tux jacket that matches my bowtie. “I’d better hand you over to Preacher; he’s boring holes into my back with his glare. See you up there,” he tells me with a pat to my chest before he heads back to the seats where our teammates are all seated, along with Coach and a pregnant Connie.
Twirling a tiny bunch of flowers in one hand, Eli meanders towardme. The long lengths at the top of his head are coiffed into a neatly disheveled knot at his crown. With the warm tinge of the sun over it, the blonde strands loose around his face are a deep caramel that brings out the lighter woodsy tones in his eyes when he pauses in front of me.
“Looking good,” he coos, leaning in to pin the buttonhole bouquet on my lapel.
A white iris accented with a sprig of eucalyptus and other fragrant herbs that have the most grounding, earthy scent, balancing the floral sweetness of the lilac wisteria and snowy English roses.
“Smelling damn good, too,” he rasps with a chaste kiss to my cheek.
Some days, I have to pinch myself that this is really my life. Actually, most days I have to make sure that I’m not dreaming. That I am the luckiest bastard in the world to have not one, but two insanely beautiful people to love. Two incredibly wonderful people who love me.
Trailing his lips along the smooth line of my jaw, Eli takes a step flush to me as one of his large hands anchors on my hip while he chuckles at my throaty groan. The friction of his short beard is a sensation that heats my pulse into a frantic thrum when I breathe him in.
“You smell like Bibi…”
“Well, she’s been hugging me all day, telling me how happy she is to finally have a bombshell of a grandson.” Pulling back, he gives me a bitten-lip grin.
“Mhmm...”
“Yup,” Eli sings, popping the P with a waggle of his brows. “Bibilovesme.”
What’s not to love?I chuckle to myself at the same time as the bracelet on my wrist vibrates.
For a brief second, the world falls silent with the subsequent buzz, and the next, and another.
