Epilogue
OLIVER
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking,” a voice says over the speakers.
Poppy and I swap glances immediately. “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” I say.
She elbows me. “He’s saying we’re at cruising altitude. Chill, Ollie Pop.”
I snort. “Can you blame a guy for feeling a little triggered?”
“Oh, right, because the last canceled flight was so terrible for you,” she says.
“Good point,” I say, leaning down to kiss her. We’re flying first class, so we don’t have to share the row with anyone, thank goodness. Turns out, after dropping two hundred thousand on a grand declaration of love, those millions in the bank feel pretty darn accessible now.
We can’t full on make out, but Poppy doesn’t let go of me after the kiss. Instead, she kisses along my cheek, her lips leaving a trail to my ear. “Now are you ready to tell me why on earth we’re heading back to Colorado?”
I close my eyes, reveling in the sensation of her lips on my skin. I will never get used to how good she feels. “No,” I say. “I told you it was a surprise.”
“But I’ve been waiting since Christmas!”
“Which was two days ago,” I say. “Chill, Elf on a Shelf.”
She wrinkles her nose, glares her cute little glare, and I can’t stop myself from kissing her adorable pout.
Can’t, won’t, same difference.
Poppy and I have spent every waking moment together since Evan’s reception last week, including Christmas.
When I drove her back home that night, it was to find out her heater had gone out in her apartment.
Her uncle offered to let her stay in their hotel, and her great aunt offered to let her stay at her place a few hours away, but my mom turned out to be the most persuasive.
“Absolutely not,” she said when she found out. “We have all this space. It would mean the world to me if she stayed with us.”
And Poppy chose to believe her.
A guy could get emotional over something like that.
The flight is both too slow and too fast. It’s too slow, in that I can’t wait to see Poppy’s face when she realizes what her present is.
Too fast, in that we haven’t had time to map out our entire future yet.
“Are you sure you need to visit your mom for a whole week?” I ask after we get our drink service—Dr Pepper for me, root beer for Poppy. Something tells me these drinks will be our tradition on flights for a long time.
She smiles and rests her head against me. I sling my arm around her shoulders. “We need the time together. But you could come—”
“Done.”
She chuckles. “Just like that, huh? You want a week in Florida with me?”
I want forever with you, I think, but I manage to stop myself before crossing into obsessive weirdo territory. Yes, we’ve known each other for a lot longer than either of us realized, but as long as we’re both clear on where we’re heading, I don’t need to zoom out and see the entire route.
But if there’s a single detour, so help me …
“Yeah, if you don’t mind me being there, I’d love to come to Florida with you,” I say, like I’m totally cool beneath the surface.
“I’d love that,” she says, still resting against my chest.
“And then we’ll fly to South Carolina together. You saw those program director job listings I sent you for those re-entry organizations, right?”
I’m hoping for a yes, but instead, she ducks her head. A moment later, I hear a sniff.
What did I do??
“Hey,” I say, panic flooding my lungs. “I’m sorry if I’m pushing—”
“It’s not that,” she says with a wet chuckle. She looks up at me, and unshed tears glisten in her eyes. “You can’t know how good it feels that you care.”
I almost slump in relief, but instead, I tighten my arm around Poppy and kiss her temple. “I have a pretty good idea.”
“Why are we renting a car?” Poppy asks three hours later, bouncing on her toes at the rental car counter.
“Wait and see,” I tell her as the agent gives me the keys to the biggest SUV they have.
“Why are we heading toward Parker-slash-Franktown?” she asks twenty minutes later, watching the road sign as we take the exit.
“Adventure,” I tell her.
“Uh, Oliver, why are we going east toward Kiowa?” she asks once we’re further down the road, suspicion in her voice. “As much as I love you, I don’t need to pull a Pat and Terry and drive this whole road again.”
I laugh. Hard. “No, I love you too much for that,” I tell her. “Just wait.”
I take an exit toward a familiar small town, and I hear her gasp. “Oliver?”
“Be patient,” I say, the SUV purring as we turn toward the Evergreen Junction Café, home of the worst chicken fried steak in the world.
I park in front of the diner, but when we step into the cold, I take Poppy’s shoulders and turn her to a building across the street.
Strings of white lights outline the roofline of the old train station, and a hand-painted sign reads “Mistletoe Express.”
Poppy’s eyes get so big and round, they could fit my heart in them.
“Merry Christmas,” I say, taking her gloved hand and leading her across the quiet street. Our boots crunch on the salt-treated pavement, and I can feel her practically vibrating with excitement beside me.
“I can’t believe you got me tickets on the Mistletoe Express,” she keeps repeating. When we get to the platform, we join a throng of excited families and couples. I wrap my arms around her. “I can’t believe you remembered,” she says.
“I’m gonna need you to stop thinking anything about you is forgettable,” I say, holding her tight. I lean down to kiss her when my phone buzzes.
“You should get that,” Poppy murmurs into my mouth.
“Why is everyone so obsessed with us?”
I feel her smile against my lips. Then she leans back, pulls my phone out of my coat pocket, and hands it to me.
“It’s Scottie. Get it.”
I hit answer.
“Fletch, we have a bit of a problem.”
“Okay, is this something Poppy can know about?”
“What? I don’t care. Yes. Hi Poppy,” she says. “Remember how Jake likes to pretend I’m his girlfriend when we’re in public so he doesn’t have to fight off the Baseball Annies with a stick?”
“Nice reference,” I say.
“FOCUS,” she says, and I can hear her snapping on the other end of the phone.
“Someone was filming us and put it all over the internet! I guess she messaged him to see if he was open to ‘sneaking around,’ and he shut her down in true Jake Rodgers fashion, and so she went public with it all. And now the whole world thinks we’re dating. ”
I make wide eyes at Poppy, who’s leaned in close to listen. “Oh. Uh,” I say.
“This is bad!” Scottie says.
“But you’re not dating,” I say.
“But Jake told the reporter who called up asking for a comment that I’m his best friend’s little sister and the woman of his dreams, and now the media is eating it up.”
“So just tell them you’re not dating.”
Scottie makes a sound of intense frustration I thought only Poppy could make. Poppy takes the phone.
“This sucks, Scottie,” Poppy says.
“THANK YOU,” she says. “My parents will think it’s a great idea!”
“You dating Jake?”
“No, me fake dating Jake. Everyone wants to help him rehab his image, and I already know they’ll think ‘falling in love with the girl next door’ will help him do that.”
“Oh my gosh. That really sucks!”
“Right?”
“You don’t have to do it.”
“I know. But he’s going to ask, and I’m going to have to,” she says, which makes no sense, but Poppy’s nodding. “You don’t know Jake like I do. Baseball is all he has. It’s everything to him.”
Poppy looks at me, and I blink. “He has more than that,” I say.
“No, you have more than that,” Scottie counters. “Baseball didn’t save you like it saved him, Fletch. He has to have this.”
Poppy frowns. “But you’re worried what Lucas Fischer will think.”
Scottie makes a huffing sound. “I don’t know.”
“Maybe you could talk to him.”
“I can’t tell anyone. If I do this, I have to do it right. If the truth comes out, it will destroy Jake. I won’t risk hurting him.”
“But won’t that hurt you?” Poppy asks.
Scottie’s silent for a long moment. When she speaks again, her voice is thick. “Maybe.” She clears her throat. “But he’s family. You get it.”
There’s something raw in her voice—a vulnerability I haven’t heard from her before. I guarantee neither has Lucas.
“You’re a good friend,” Poppy says. “What can we do?”
“Nothing. I just needed to vent. Don’t worry about me, guys.”
“You sure about that?” I ask.
“I said I’ll be fine, Fletch,” Scottie says. “I’m the pushy one, remember?”
Poppy catches my eye, and she has so much tenderness on her face, I sigh. “Yeah, yeah. But maybe you can stage a big breakup before Spring Training,” I say. “Brutally break his heart. It’ll make him even more sympathetic, and it’ll give you something to look forward to.”
“And it’ll probably feel great,” Poppy adds, teasing.
Scottie snorts. “Now you’re speaking my language.”
Poppy smiles at the phone, and I get the sense she understands Scottie better than I do. “Hey, I’ll be in South Carolina in a couple of weeks. Any chance you’ll be around?”
“I’ll be there,” Scottie says. “Have fun, guys.”
“Bye, Scottie,” we say, ending the call.
I stow my phone, and the rumble on the platform tells me the train is about to fly into the station.
“How do you do that?” I ask, kissing Poppy’s forehead.
“Do what?”
“Listen like that? Help like that?”
“I didn’t do anything,” she says, and it makes me hold her closer. “But you thinking I’m special is my favorite thing, so don’t stop thinking it.”
We move up in the line before stopping again, and I give her another kiss. “Not possible. You are made of sunshine, Poppy Grace.”
She beams.
Twenty minutes later, we’re finally on the Mistletoe Express, and Poppy immediately claims the window seat.
“I thought you preferred the aisle,” I say, settling in beside her.
“That was before I had someone worth sitting next to.” She laces her fingers through mine. “Now I want to see everything.”
The train lurches forward, and she presses her face to the glass like a kid, watching the Colorado landscape roll by—snow-covered pines, frozen rivers, mountains that look like they’re straight out of a Christmas card.
I should be watching the scenery too, but I can’t stop looking at her.
The way her eyes light up when she spots a deer. The way she squeezes my hand whenever something beautiful appears. The way she turns to share every moment with me, like she can’t fully experience joy unless I’m experiencing it too.
A week and a half ago, I got on a plane thinking I was going home.
Turns out, I was trying to find it.
“What are you smiling about?” she asks, catching me staring.
“Nothing. Just enjoying the ride.”
She smiles and settles against my shoulder with a contented sigh.
As the Mistletoe Express carries us through the mountains, Poppy keeps up a running commentary—excited about the scenery, the holiday decorations on the train, the hot chocolate the conductor promises when we stop.
And I realize this is what I want for the rest of my life.
Not the grand gestures or the perfect moments.
Just this: going through life with Poppy.
Every day. Every journey. Every window seat and aisle seat. Every delay, pit stop, and terrible diner meal.
All of it.
With her.
Want to see what happens when Arrow and Grace return to the Beyond Justice forum a year later? Check out this exclusive bonus scene of a very accidental proposal!
And read on for Scottie’s BONUS EPILOGUE featuring a very desperate Jake Rodgers …