One Month Later

Spencer is skating with Bas and Russo tonight. They look like a well-choreographed ballet, passing amongst themselves with barely a glance. Brixton stands on the seat between Kaila and I, big blue eyes rapt on his daddy as he streaks around the rink.

It takes a few shifts of hard skating to shake up Toledo. The first couple shots on goal are deflected. Then their defense goofs, lets Spencer steal the puck. He fires an almost blind pass to Russo, who flicks it to Bas.

Bas deftly avoids a defensive check and controls the puck in a backward streak. A wrister sees the puck up and off the ice, screaming toward the net. The goalie dives for it and I hold my breath.

The lit lamp is quickly followed by Kaila's and my shrieks. "YEESSSS!"

"GET BENT, TOLEDO!" Kaila jumps up and down.

"Yeah!" Brixton shouts from beside her. "GET BENT!"

I almost choke on my beer, hearing that phrase come out of a three-year-old's mouth.

I'm surprised how quickly Kaila's taken to Brixton, and he to her. Kaila isn't nearly as flighty and flippant when it comes to Brixton's well-being. In fact, when the kid's around, she's almost responsible.

"Don't repeat that in front of your dad," Kaila says hurriedly, looking mortified and casting me a guilty look. Shrugging, I keep an eye on the game.

The speed of play increases. Toledo is a great team, keeps our guys going hard. The next portion of the game is tense and scoreless. I forget my beer, barely aware of Kaila chattering away with Brixton beside me. I hold my breath again as Bas steals the puck. He can't get the pass off before a Toledo player crosschecks him into the Plexi.

"What the – fudge – Ref!" I leap to my feet, "Call something!"

"Uh-oh," Kaila sing-songs, knowing smile curling her lips. "We've made a hockey fan out of her."

"Hockey is the coolest!" Brixton clutches tight to the puck Spencer flicked over the glass at him. "Go Cyclones!"

Kaila and I cast amused glances at one another, then join in his cheer. "Go Cyclones!"

**

The Cyclones win against Toledo with a score of 3-2. My boys are sitting pretty for the Kelly Cup.

Despite Johnson's desperate pleas for Spencer and Bastien to join him in his celebrations, both decline and opt to head back to the Anarchy Immortal Café with Kaila and I. Brixton included, he's also part of the reason why Spencer chose not to go out.

The February air is still cool as we tromp the short distance from the cab to the front door. Brixton makes it there first, Kaila following quickly behind due to his tight grip on her hand.

She giggles as he tries to push on the glass and fails. "Need help?" Kaila asks, smiling.

Brixton frowns up at her and shakes his head. "I can do it."

When he tries again, Spencer comes up behind Kaila and raises one hand above her head, fingers against the glass. The door opens and the squeal of delight Brixton emits makes us all laugh.

Bas and I follow the three of them in, his arm resting comfortably around my shoulders. "What's up with that?" Bas immediately asks, he points toward the back wall and I follow his finger confusedly.

Where the Wall of Expression should be is a blank white canvas with what looks to be a painter's tarp draped over the center of it. I shrug, "It's been a few months, Dad repainted."

"Damn, we had so much history on that wall." Bas sulks. "Including your most recent phrase, I never even got to respond."

I laugh as I tug him toward the counter, thinking back to a few days before when I'd been on my way home after closing. Dad had been with me, so Bas hadn't felt like he needed to walk me home. I took the opportunity to scrawl something in big bold letters. Black, of course.

Can anyone ever be truly happy?

I'd accented the words with spirals that expanded outward, nearly losing the lettering in all the darkness. Of course, these days, I didn't really have a lot of negativity that I needed to get out like before. Writing on the wall, and waiting for Bas's response, was more a form of flirting than anything else. It was our way of keeping with the simple things in the midst of everything else, remembering how it all began.

"There's always next time." I soothe as we step up to the counter to place our orders. There's a pretty brunette at the register with the name Leah sloppily written in the top corner of her apron. She smiles when she sees me.

"Hey Reece," she glances at Bas, "how was your game?" Leah questions, making light conversation.

Bas places a hand on the counter and smirks. "We won, of course. What else would you expect?"

Leah rolls her eyes and starts tapping on the screen, glancing up only briefly to say, "The usual, right?"

We both nod and as Bas pays, I cast a cursory glance around the café before turning back to Leah. "Where's Vivi?" I ask, referring to Leah's girlfriend, who's usually planted herself in a corner to study until the end of Leah's shift.

She shrugs as she starts pulling out milk and other ingredients. "She's got some big project due next week."

From behind her, my dad rounds the corner from the backroom. He's just hanging up the phone, a frustrated expression contorting his usually tranquil features. "Hey," I call out, slipping out from under Bas's arm and advancing toward him.

Dad looks up from his screen, smiling at my approach. "Reecie, you're not working today." He tells me.

I shake my head, able to tell by the distracted look in his eyes that his mind is somewhere else. "That's not the only reason I come around," I reply, giving him a quick hug. Dad returns it half-heartedly as his phone pings and he mutters a curse. "What's up?" I finally push.

Dad jabs at the screen before focusing his attention on me. "Natalia's fighting the divorce agreement. She wants the house, though I can't imagine why considering she's hardly ever in it." He grumbles.

I gape, appalled at my mother's shamelessness, and yet not unsurprised by her actions. "Well she won't get it, right?"

Dad scowls and shakes his head, "Of course not, she's just trying to make this take longer than it needs to." He assures me with a pat on my shoulder.

"Your drink's ready Reece!" Leah calls from the counter as I return my dad's affection with a squeeze on his arm.

"Keep me updated." I demand, pointing fiercely at him.

Dad smiles and nods. "I will," he gestures behind me with his chin, "your friends are waiting."

I narrow my eyes at him as I'm turning away, making it clear that I will indeed come knocking if he doesn't inform me about whatever antics she pulls next. He gives me an amused smile as I spin away, coming face-to-face with Bas and my coffee. I yelp in surprise, glare when he smirks, and pluck my cup from his hand impatiently.

"What was that for?" I demand as I stir the spoon, noticing that it has a bit more weight than usual.

Bas puts his arm around my back, hand on my hip as he guides me to the table where Kaila and Spencer are sitting with Brixton between them munching on a chocolate chip cookie. He jumps up as we approach, running up to me and patting my leg.

There's a twinkle in his eyes as he says, "Did you find it yet?"

"Huh?" I say stupidly, frowning down at the little blond boy.

Behind him, Kaila gasps and Spencer suppresses a laugh. "Told you not to say anything, Blue." The chastisement is followed by a thwack.

Beside me, Bas stiffens. "Find what?" I question with a curious glance at my friends.

Brixton smiles, exposing two adorable dimples. "Kaila said there was something in your drink." He informs, pointing to the mug in my hands. My hand freezes on the spoon's handle as I toss a surprised glance at my best friend.

Kaila's cheeks are a brilliant shade of red, even though she's got both hands thrown over her face in horror. "Oh my God," she groans and leans against Spencer, who shifts to put his arm around her shoulders. "Brix, honey, you're going to get me in trouble." Kaila whines.

Brixton blinks and crosses to Kaila, an urgency in the way he topples into her lap. "Why?" He asks, voice full of childish innocence. Beside them, Spencer's smirking, a fondness in his eyes as he regards them.

I shake my head in dismay, turn to face Bas's irritated expression. "What's he talking about Bastien?"

The look in his hazel eyes pins me in place, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine. He's so full of heat and adoration, gentleness, and amusement in his smile as he flicks his eyes toward the wall, then back at me. "Turn and find out."

Suddenly, he's behind me with his hands on my hips as he twists my body. I gasp, rush to keep the hot liquid on the inside of my cup as I'm jostled. But when my gaze finds the Wall of Expression, all other thought flees from my mind.

The painter's tarp is gone, and a sprawling mass of color, spirals, and hearts stares down at me. Blues, reds, greens, and yellows splash across the white wall, outlining a phrase written in deep purple. The remnants of my phrase is still visible underneath it all, and I realize then that my Dad's repainting of the wall was for this moment.

Can anyone ever be truly happy? I recall my words, blinking rapidly as tears press behind my eyes at his response.

I would be, if you married me.

My grip on the mug loosens and hands come around mine, strong and sure. Bas's face invades my sight as he gently removes the coffee from my grasp and pulls the spoon out. Around the handle is a silver ring with a blue sapphire in the center of two sparkling white opals.

Bas carefully slides the ring off, dries it on a napkin, and sinks down to one knee. I barely have the time to clasp one hand around my mouth, keep the shriek from slipping out, as he grips my left one in both of his.

When his hazel eyes meet mine, there's doubt, anxiety, and forced confidence. Bastien's never nervous. He smiles and clears his throat, cheeks tinging pink ever so slightly. His voice, when he finds the courage, comes out deep and husky.

"I know this is fast," Bas begins, nodding his head as he speaks. "But my twenty-four years without you can't hold a flame to the last four months with you. I love you, Reece Arielle Reagan, and I need you to agree to marry me, because I can't stand facing my future without you in it."

A single sob breaks through my resolve, and the tears that flood my cheeks aren't sorrowful in the least. "Get up," I whisper through my fingers.

Bas blinks, looking unnerved as he hesitantly climbs to his feet. "What—" He doesn't get any further as I bring our faces together, covering his mouth with mine.

There's a collective roar of cheers all around us as our friends and my dad look on. Bastien's answering smile matches mine, nearly breaking the kiss as we both laugh exuberantly. Our fingers entwine and he slips the ring on without ever opening his eyes.

A long moment passes before Bas and I break apart, or maybe it's only seconds. But my elated emotions can't be bothered to care about trivial things like that. "When?"

My question gets lost amid the noise, so Bas leans in closer, his ear nearly pressed to my lips. "When?" I repeat, giddy with joy.

"Whenever you want," Bas responds, "next week, tomorrow, tonight. I don't care as long as it's you."

I'm tempted to take him up on the offer of tonight, to not wait any longer. But something tells me Kaila would never let me get away with that. Or my dad, for that matter. Or, really, Claude, or any of the Killfeathers. They'd all make us annul only to do it all over again with a white dress and black tux.

My mind races, full of possibilities. But there's one that stands out, one that I've been holding onto since I was a little girl writing out all my wedding plans in a diary with Kaila looking over my shoulder.

So, it's almost without thought when I pull back and say, "This fall."