Chapter 6 #3
Jake smiled. "My grandmother—my mom's mom—used to say that when you meet someone who makes you want to be better, that's the universe's way of saying pay attention. That you should hold onto those people because they're rare."
"And? Do you believe that?"
"I'm starting to."
Lucy took a breath, gathering her courage. "I make you want to be better?"
"You make me want to be present. To stop running and start building. To remember why I loved hockey in the first place and figure out what else I might love too." Jake's hand was still on her cheek, warm and steady. "You make me want to stay."
"Good," Lucy whispered. "Because I want you to stay too."
Jake leaned in slowly, giving her time to pull away if she wanted. But Lucy didn't want to pull away. She wanted this—wanted him—with a clarity that was almost frightening.
Their lips met softly, tentatively. A question and an answer. A promise and a beginning.
When they pulled apart, Jake was smiling. "So. Tomorrow night. Actual date. Where should we go?"
"Mac's Tavern is the only real restaurant in town."
"We just had team dinner there Friday."
"True. There's also Giuseppe's, but their pasta is weirdly sweet and Uncle Walter knows the owner so it would be a whole thing."
"What about this?" Jake gestured around the apartment. "I could cook. Or attempt to cook. Fair warning—I'm much better at eating food than making it."
"You want to cook for me?"
"I want to spend time with you. The food is secondary. But yeah, I'd like to try cooking for you. It seems only fair since you've been feeding me for three years."
Lucy's chest felt too full. "Okay. But if you burn down your apartment, I'm not responsible."
"Deal."
They talked for another hour—making plans, sharing stories, slowly building the foundation of something real. By the time Jake left at 4 PM, Lucy felt like she'd known him forever and also like she was just beginning to discover who he was.
At the door, Jake paused. "Thank you. For today. For the muffins. For being honest with me."
"Thank you for bringing coffee beans and making me laugh."
"I'll see you tomorrow?"
"See you tomorrow."
Jake kissed her one more time—soft and sweet and full of promise—then headed down the stairs into the snowy afternoon.
Lucy closed the door and leaned against it, smiling like an idiot.
Her phone buzzed immediately. Rei, of course.
Rei: UNCLE WALTER JUST CALLED ME
Rei: EXPLAIN IMMEDIATELY
Rei: DID YOU KISS HIM???
Lucy typed back: Yes.
Rei: I NEED DETAILS
Lucy: Tomorrow. I promise. But right now I just want to sit with this feeling for a while.
Rei: what feeling?
Lucy: Happy. I feel happy.
Rei: good. you deserve it.
Rei: now go enjoy your day off for real. no work. no stress. just... be.
Lucy set down her phone and walked to the window. Outside, snow was still falling on Timber Falls, covering everything in white. The street was quiet, peaceful. Through the window of The Bread Basket below, she could see the closed sign she'd hung this morning.
For five years, closing the bakery had felt like abandonment. Like letting her grandmother down.
But today it felt like possibility.
Tomorrow, Jake would turn down Nashville. She would start researching what came next. They would have their first real date and see if this thing between them was as real as it felt.
Tomorrow, everything would change.
But today—today she was just going to sit in her apartment, maybe watch the snow fall, maybe call her mom's sister in California who she hadn't talked to in months. Maybe start making a list of places she wanted to travel, things she wanted to learn, dreams she'd put on hold.
Today, Lucy Chen was going to practice wanting things for herself.
It was terrifying.
It was also long overdue.
Jake walked home through the snow with butternut squash muffins in a container Lucy had insisted he take and a feeling in his chest he couldn't quite name. Light. That's what it was. For the first time in years, he felt light.
His apartment was exactly as he'd left it—messy, impersonal, temporary. But somehow it looked different now. Less like a place he was stuck and more like a place he was choosing.
Jake set the muffins on his kitchen counter next to the succulent (still alive, miraculously). Then he pulled out his phone and opened his contacts.
Three calls to make.
First, his mom.
She answered on the second ring. "Jake! I was hoping you'd call. How are you, honey?"
"I'm good, Mom. Really good."
"You sound different. What's going on?"
Jake sat down on his couch, looking around the studio apartment. "I got an offer. Nashville. Two-way contract, AHL with NHL call-ups."
His mom was silent for a long moment. "Jake, that's wonderful. Congratulations."
"I'm going to turn it down."
Another silence, longer this time. "Okay. Tell me why."
"Because I don't want it. Not the way I did when I was eighteen, not even the way I did three years ago. I want to stay in Timber Falls. I want to coach—really coach, not just help out on Saturdays. I want to build a life here instead of chasing a dream that stopped fitting."
"And?" His mom's voice was gentle. "What else?"
"There's a woman. Lucy. She owns the bakery I've been going to every Wednesday."
"The pork bun place?"
"Yeah. And Mom, she's... she's incredible. And I think if I leave for Nashville, I'll spend the rest of my life wondering what I gave up."
His mom was quiet for so long that Jake thought he'd lost the connection.
"Mom?"
"Your father would be proud of you."
Jake felt his throat tighten. "How do you know? He wanted me to make the NHL. He sacrificed everything—"
"He sacrificed because he loved you, not because he needed you to be a hockey player. Jake, listen to me. In the months before your dad died, we had a lot of conversations about you. About whether we'd pushed too hard, whether we'd made hockey your dream or ours."
"What did he say?"
"He said he was proud of you no matter what. That he just wanted you to be happy. And he worried—we both worried—that you'd spend your whole life chasing something because you thought it was what we wanted instead of what you wanted."
Jake closed his eyes, tears sliding down his cheeks. "I miss him."
"I know, honey. I miss him too. But he wouldn't want you to make decisions based on guilt or obligation. He'd want you to choose the life that makes you happy."
"And if staying in Timber Falls makes me happy?"
"Then stay. Build your life. Fall in love with your baker. Be happy." His mom's voice was thick with emotion. "That's all we ever wanted for you."
They talked for another twenty minutes—about Lucy, about coaching, about what came next. By the time they hung up, Jake felt like he'd been carrying a weight for six years and had finally set it down.
Second call: Derek, his agent.
"Jake! Tell me you're calling to accept the Nashville offer."
"I'm calling to turn it down."
"What? Jake, are you insane? This is the NHL. This is what we've been working toward for three years."
"I know. And I appreciate everything you've done. But I don't want it anymore."
"You don't want—" Derek sputtered. "Jake, they're offering you triple your current salary. A real shot at the big leagues. Why would you turn that down?"
"Because I want to stay in Timber Falls. I want to coach. I want a different life than the one we've been planning."
"This is about that bakery owner, isn't it? Marcus mentioned something—"
"Her name is Lucy. And yeah, she's part of it. But it's bigger than that. I'm tired, Derek. I'm tired of chasing something I don't want anymore."
Derek was silent for a long moment. "You're sure about this?"
"I'm sure."
"Okay then. I'll call Steve tomorrow and let him know." Derek sighed. "For what it's worth, I hope you're making the right choice."
"Me too."
Third call: Tommy.
"Morrison. What's up?"
"I'm turning down Nashville."
"Good."
Jake blinked. "Good? You're not going to try to talk me out of it?"
"Why would I? You've been miserable for three years waiting for a call that was never going to make you happy. Now you know that. That's growth."
"I want to talk to you about coaching. Really coaching. If you're serious about retiring—"
"I'm serious. My knees are shot and my wife wants to travel while we're still young enough to enjoy it. The Wolves need an assistant coach next season, head coach the season after when I'm done." Tommy paused. "Job's yours if you want it."
Jake felt his heart stutter. "Just like that?"
"Jake, I've been waiting for you to wake up and realize you're meant for this. You're a natural teacher. The kids love you. The team respects you. And you know hockey better than anyone I've coached in thirty years. This isn't charity—this is me giving the job to the person who deserves it."
"I don't know what to say."
"Say yes. Then show up to practice Monday ready to start learning the business side of coaching. The paperwork, the parents, the politics. It's not all fun and games."
"Yes. Absolutely yes."
"Good. Now go call that bakery owner and take her on a proper date. And Morrison?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm proud of you, kid. You made the hard choice. That takes guts."
After they hung up, Jake sat in his apartment for a long time, holding his phone, letting the reality sink in.
He'd done it. He'd turned down the NHL. He'd chosen Timber Falls. He'd chosen coaching. He'd chosen Lucy.
He'd chosen himself.
His phone buzzed with a text from Marcus.
Marcus: So? What'd you decide?
Jake: I'm staying.
Marcus: HELL YES
Marcus: Does Lucy know?
Jake: I'll tell her tomorrow night. We have a date.
Marcus: A DATE. An actual, official, non-muffin-related DATE?
Jake: Yeah.
Marcus: I'm going to cry. Character growth. It's beautiful.
Jake: You're ridiculous.
Marcus: I'm proud of you man. This is the right call.
Jake: I think so too.
Jake set down his phone and looked around his studio apartment. It was still small, still messy, still full of IKEA furniture. But it didn't feel temporary anymore.
It felt like home.
Tomorrow, he'd call Steve and officially turn down the offer. He'd start learning what it meant to be a coach instead of just a player. He'd take Lucy on their first real date and see where this thing between them led.
Tomorrow, his new life would begin.
But tonight—tonight Jake Morrison was going to watch an old western, eat butternut squash muffins, and let himself feel happy.
For the first time in six years, the weight of his father's expectations wasn't crushing him.
For the first time in three years, he wasn't waiting for someone to rescue him from Timber Falls.
He was just... here. Present. Building something real.
And it felt like exactly where he was supposed to be.
Outside his window, snow continued to fall on the town he'd tried so hard to escape and finally learned to love.
Shane was right, Jake thought. A man's gotta be what he is.
The trick was figuring out what that was.
And for Jake Morrison, at twenty-eight years old, in a studio apartment in Timber Falls, Vermont—he was finally starting to know.