Until Rowan, I hadn’t realized how lonely parts of my life were.
I’d dated the wrong men. I called everyone friend, but there were only a few people who I let get to see the ugly parts of me. The only family I’d had was Aunt Ethel, and while she was enough family for anyone, I’d always had that fear deep in my gut that she’d die and I’d be left alone in the world. Then I met Rowan. He saw the annoying parts of me. He’d seen me when I was injured, listened to me complain, comforted me when I was nervous about playoffs. I’d finally found a good man, and I was never letting him go.
We swayed in time with the music. Neither one of us were particularly good dancers, and I knew that Rowan had been dreading this part and having everyone look at us.
“Do you feel kind of ridiculous?” he asked, his warm breath caressing my ear and sending tendrils of heat down my spine. It didn’t matter how many times I felt it; my body reacted the same way. “Having a first dance when we’ve already been married for six months?”
I grinned up at him. “Not at all,” I answered. “Besides, look at Aunt Ethel.” He turned his head and found my aunt, standing at the edge of the dance floor with Rowan’s mother. They were both watching us with tears in their eyes and smiles on their faces. “Tell me now that you feel ridiculous.”
“I feel ridiculous.”
“Spoilsport.”
I felt the vibration of Rowan’s chuckle against my torso, and my smile somehow got bigger. I didn’t know it was even possible.
The first dance song ended, and the DJ invited everyone to join us on the dance floor. It was time for the real fun to begin. Rowan introduced me to his former teammates that had flown across the country to attend the celebration. I introducedhim to my friends I’d invited that he hadn’t already met which consisted of about three high school friends from Virginia and the wide receiver from the Gladiators. There were a few other ALF players, former Foxes or Scorpions we’d kept in touch with after they were traded.
By the end of the night, everyone was mingling together. All our friends and family together. It was exactly what I’d always dreamed of.
I snapped a few mental pictures before Rowan and I left to catch our flight to our honeymoon.
It was time to start the rest of our life.
The End
Notes
Wow. I can’t believe I actually finished a long fic. I’m usually all about the one shot, maybe the odd two or three parter. Never anything like this. Thank you all for sticking with me through the delays, the ups, the downs, everything. I’m kind of going to miss them.
Luckily, there’s new Milo and Rowan fics out every week. I’m about to start one where Milo’s an assassin? IDK, but it sounds fun.
Epilogue
The Author
I shut my laptop after hitting submit on the last chapter of my magnum opus. It was the longest story I’d ever completed, and I was flying high.
It wasn’t just the story I’d spent the better part of the ALF season working on. My life had changed while I was writing my fanfiction. My boyfriend of eight months had cheated on me. I’d caught him, literally, with his pants down in our bedroom. I’d almost lost my job. I’d gotten a promotion, somehow. I still didn’t know how that happened. I had to spend a few days in the hospital, and I’d totaled my car. It was a whole train wreck.
And people say the fanfiction curse isn’t real?
But my team had made the playoffs, and I’d gotten to watch a few games at Stinger Stadium.
That was the wildest part.
I’d been a fan of the Tucson Scorpions my entire life. I’d even gone as legendary Scorpions quarterback, Ray Wilson, for Halloween when I was six years old. There are pictures of me dressed up in my dad’s old Wilson jersey and a secondhand helmet. I’d gone on field trips to Stinger Stadium, but I’d never been for a game.
Actually, no, that wasn’t the wildest part.
The wildest part was I’d met Liam Lowe. We’d met at the car dealership, and again at the bar. We talked and exchanged numbers. He texted me. It was like most of my wildest, fanboy dreams come true.
I may have fantasized about the rest of my dreams coming true the night he texted me.
But this wasn’t one of my stories.
This was the real world. In the real world, ALF quarterbacks didn’t look starry eyed at paralegals. Not even the ones who somehow managed to finesse their way into a promotion when they thought they were on the edge of being fired. In the real world, ALF quarterbacks fell in love with models and actors and other athletes. I was none of those things.
I sighed and looked around my messy apartment. I needed to clean it. I needed to do my laundry.
