Falling: A Fake Dating College Hockey Romance (North University Book 1)
Falling: Epilogue

“Are you nervous?”

I run my hands from her shoulders down to her waist as I stand behind her in the mirror, losing my mind over how good she looks in her dress. I’m sure we’re breaking every wedding ritual right now, but I can’t bring myself to care. I know Kennedy would have my head if she saw that I was with Wren in her dress already.

I rest my chin on her shoulder, and she beams in the mirror. “No, I’m excited. One, I’ve never been here before, and two, I’ve never been a maid of honor before,” Wren says.

We’ve been in Jamaica for the last few days, trying to catch up on sleep as well as helping Wren do her bridal duties to her sister. Zion proposed to Austin earlier this summer and Wren cried literal tears when she told me. I know things have been hard between them, but they’ve been making it work.

As soon as we came off the plane, the humidity hit us worse than it was in Palm Springs. We were greeted by Zion’s large family and Austin and baby Marley, who flew out a week before. I don’t think I’ve seen a cuter baby than him, and he’s only a couple months old. He’s got the chubbiest little cheeks and the cutest dimples.

Ms. Hacks is still not open to the idea of Austin’s new life, but their dad has shown up like has been doing for the past few months. Talking to Wren’s dad is always the highlight of my day. He always has some story to tell about how crazy Wren was as a kid and I love it.

“I’m mostly excited for the food,” I say with a sigh. Wren turns around, her bright-green eyes staring into mine. “Do you know how long the service is going to take?”

“I hope you’re joking. This is a very special and romantic day,” she protests.

“I know, but can’t it be special and romantic and short?”

The ceremony is special and it’s overly romantic, but it is not short.

Wren had to stand in her light-blue maid-of-honor dress at the front of the wedding aisle. I had to sit in the line of chairs in the blistering sunlight as we waited for more guests to arrive. We exchanged private moments since we couldn’t speak while Wren and the other bridesmaids waited for the ceremony to begin. Even when Austin came down the aisle in a white wedding dress, all I could focus on was Wren, beaming, with fresh happy tears welling up in her eyes.

Even when Marley started crying on Zion’s mom’s knee, I still couldn’t tear my eyes away from her. Being here in the sun, her freckles have appeared on her face and down her arms, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

When we finally get out of the heat, we’re moved into a large room with the AC on—thank God—where all the food and drinks are served. Jamaican food is incredible. I’ve always been a big eater, and I would sit by the food table all day if it were socially acceptable.

I follow Wren around like a lost puppy, holding her bag as she greets all of Zion’s family and some of her family too. She gives an emotional and funny maid of honor speech, which has almost the entire room in tears.

When Zion and Austin have their first dance to Is This Love by Bob Marley, we dance from a distance, her head resting on my shoulder as I rest my hand on her hip, swaying us to the music.

“They look so happy,” Wren whispers to me. I brush her shoulder with my hand reassuringly before she starts to cry for the hundredth time today.

“They do. But for the love of God, stop crying.”

“I can’t help it,” she says, sobbing into me. For someone who hated crying when we first met, she’s cried a fuckton in the last few months. I rub circles on her back and change the subject.

“I like that they have a song just for them. Do we have one?”

She looks up at me as if I offended her. I can’t help but laugh at her sudden change of expression as she continues sniffling.

“Of course, we have a song, Miles, and you know which one it is,” she demands. “Do you really think I’d be still dating you if we didn’t have a song?”

“I’ll try not to take that personally,” I murmur.

She rolls her eyes. “Come on.”

She pulls at my arm as she starts to walk through the crowds of people in the room and leads us through the door. She drags us down the corridor of this fancy hotel until we get to a dark corridor. She looks into some of the rooms as if she knows her way around, and the thought crosses my mind that she’s secretly a spy.

When we get to the end of the corridor, she jingles the door handle to the right and opens the door, which leads to a flight of stairs.

“Where are we going?” I ask as she starts to sprint up the stairs.

“I know a shortcut,” she pants.

“How? We’ve literally been here a week.”

She ignores me with a laugh until we reach the top of the first flight of stairs to another door, which she opens with ease. We’re in darkness for a few beats before a light turns on and we’re somehow back in our suite.

“How?” I ask breathlessly as I cross the bedroom into the open living room and kitchen area, looking back to the door that we came out of.

“I have my ways,” she says with a shrug, looking through her bag from under the couch. She pulls out her speaker and holds down the button to connect it to her phone.

“You’re insane,” I say, walking over to her. Her blonde hair that she curled especially for today falls down across her face, and I brush out a strand from her eyes before pulling her further into me.

“I know,” she says cheerfully as she sets the speaker on the kitchen island. “Come and help me move this out of the way.”

We take a while to move the couch and the coffee table out of the way until there’s a large space in the middle only holding the carpet. Now we’re both sweatier than before as I huff and stare at her. She has a daring look in her eyes as she grabs her phone from the kitchen before returning to stand in front of me.

“You can have one guess as to what our song is,” she demands as she tugs on my tie and pulls me into her.

“I’m guessing it’s a Taylor Swift song based on your excitement.” She nods, waving her phone between us suggestively. “I don’t know, baby. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Just be grateful you have a super cool girlfriend with impeccable music taste,” she says with a flourish as she hits play to the song she’s chosen. My heart expands as soon as the instrumental begins, and the moment that she played this to me for the first time hits me. “See.”

She throws her phone on the couch and snakes her hands around my neck as the first verse to You Are in Love plays over the speakers. I wrap my arms around her waist as she brings her body closer to mine, our bodies fitting together perfectly.

“Do you remember what happened when I played this for you?” she asks as she sinks into my chest, her arms falling loose around my neck.

“I was driving us back from the gym, and you insisted on putting a song on because, apparently, my music taste is shit. You put this on, and I said it was good, but it felt like you were trying to subconsciously convince me to fall in love with you. Like you were trying to manifest it or something. You then told me that that’s never going to happen, but you thought it was one of the best love songs,” I explain as we sway back and forth to the music.

“And then what happened?” She starts to laugh into me, knowing what I’m going to say. I press a kiss to her head and chuckle into her.

“Then you fell in love with me.”

“I did.” She laughs softly before breaking away to look up at me. “I really did and hard too.”

We stay close to each other as the song plays on a loop, letting the words settle around us.

You can hear it in the silence.

You can feel it on the way home.

You can see it with the lights out.

You are in love.

True love.

That’s exactly what it feels like being so desperately in love with Wren. I can feel her everywhere. It feels like no matter where I go, where we are, there’s always something tying us together.

There’s always that true, consuming kind of love that lingers between us whenever we’re around each other. If a pink heart was a person, it would be Wren. She makes me so happy that it almost makes me queasy when I think about it too much.

I don’t get time to think right now because her phone starts to ring through the speakers. She groans into my chest as we waddle toward the phone, her arms tightly around my waist, not daring to look at it.

“It’s Scarlett,” I say when I catch a glimpse of her phone. She groans even louder. “Maybe something’s wrong. You should answer it.”

“Fine,” she replies, pulling out of my grasp to answer the incoming FaceTime.

She falls onto the couch, which is now at the far end of our suite, and I sit next to her, sweeping her into my lap. The phone lights up with a puffy-faced Scarlett as it balances on the kitchen island of their apartment while she stands across from it, leaning against the sink with her arms crossed.

“Hi, Scar. What’s up?” Wren asks, smiling into the camera.

I lean my face into the frame and wave. Scarlett rolls her eyes at me.

“Hi,” she says sharply. “I have a question to ask.”

“Shoot,” Wren replies, pushing her hair out of her face.

I notice her necklace in the camera screen, and the clasp has fallen to the front. I move my hands over it and pull it around the right way. She presses a kiss to my cheek as a thank you before turning her attention to Scarlett.

“You guys are disgusting,” Scarlett huffs. “Anyway, have you seen The Whiteboard anywhere? I don’t know how I can’t replace it. I only have the one that I use for school, not our one.”

“How could you lose The Whiteboard? It’s huge,” Wren replies, and Scarlett shakes her head with a short laugh. “I haven’t seen it in a while. Our lives have been pretty put together recently so we haven’t needed it.”

She’s right. Since we finished our exams, we settled into a comfortable rhythm with our friends where we can actually get work done as well as hanging out.

Kennedy is always working on a new project for class and giving us free drinks from Florentino’s. Xavier and I have still been training like crazy and going on double dates with Michelle and Wren. Evan and Scarlett are still constantly arguing about whatever assignments they need to do for business class, replaceing new ways to insult each other.

Wren is working the hardest out of all of us as she works on her writing and skating while trying to juggle the relationship with her mom. She has laid off Wren recently, but it’s still tense between them, but that’s just the reality of their relationship. It’s never going to be perfect and that’s okay.

“Huh,” Scarlett says disbelievingly. “What about you, Miles? Have you seen it? At your house, perhaps.”

“Uh, no… Why would it be at my house?” I ask with a skeptical look. Wren looks up at me and widens her eyes, and I realize what she meant. She probably thinks Evan has taken it. Typical. “Have you asked Ken?”

“No, Miles, I haven’t asked the one person currently living with me right now,” she retorts sarcastically. “I have a feeling someone has taken it, but they won’t own up to it.”

Something catches her eye above the screen, and she glares as if she’s talking to someone indirectly.

Wren and I give each other a suspicious look before we turn back to Scarlett, whose face has suddenly turned a deep-red color. I can’t tell if she’s blushing or if she’s pissed.

“What? Do you think Evan took it?” Wren asks. Scarlett waits a beat before turning her attention back to the screen.

“I know he took it,” she bites out.

“Scar,” Wren says slowly. “Please don’t tell me you’re holding him hostage right now.”

“I’m not holding him hostage,” Scarlett says, rolling her eyes. “I asked him to come over, and he was stupid enough to agree.”

She slowly pans the camera around to face the other way, and that’s when we both see him. Evan is sitting in a dark blue suit in their apartment with his arms crossed against his chest. He doesn’t look like he’s being held hostage. He looks too comfortable. Like he’s enjoying it. He smiles at the camera before blowing air up to push his blond hair out of his face.

“Hey, guys. I hope you’re having a good time,” Evan begins with a smile. “Jamaica is beautiful. I’ve been a few times and⁠—”

“Shut up,” Scarlett demands, turning the phone around, but she holds it closer to her face.

“Scarlett, you’re insane,” Wren says, laughing. I can’t help but laugh too at the fact that she seems so used to this. As if this is a completely normal Scarlett thing to do.

“Whatever. I need to get it back, like, now.” She pulls the phone closer to her face so we can see straight into her green eyes as she lowers her voice. “I’m having a crisis, Wren.”

“I’m sorry, Scar. I’m sure Kennedy can help you out. I’m coming home in a few days. Can you hang on until then?” Wren asks, scrunching her nose up. Scarlett opens her mouth to speak, but Evan butts in.

“What’s the crisis?” Evan asks loudly. “I’ll help.”

“I would rather gouge my eyes out than ask you for help,” Scarlett replies with a disgusted glare, shuddering before ending the call.