Chapter 19
JETT
The clatter of bowling pins echoes around us as we step through the doors of Heartwood Lanes, the smell of fried food and sweaty socks hitting me like a wall.
“I’m surprised Brooke didn’t insist on a fancier venue,” Poppy says. She’s dressed in a pair of black jeans, black ankle boots, and of course, what looks like a hand-knit turtleneck sweater. It’s a shade of crimson that looks stunning against her milky skin and dark hair.
“Trust me, this was not her first choice,” I answer.
I informed Brooke that the engagement party had to be in Heartwood so we could have our closest friends here, and it was the only place with availability on short notice.
She wasn’t even able to book out the entire building, which I heard all about, because someone named Norm was having his retirement party here on the same night.
The audacity.
I spot our group of friends standing around, waiting to get their shoes, but before we approach them, I glance down at Poppy. Her normally bright face is fraught with worry, her usual smile replaced with a pensive scowl.
“You okay?” I ask, nudging her arm with my elbow. She blinks and looks up at me as if coming out of a trance.
“Uh, yeah.”
I recognize the hesitant tone of her voice, the one that gives away her nerves. I tug her hand to slow her down and she turns to face me.
Poppy has told me a few times that the whole wedding scheme makes her apprehensive. Not necessarily of being found out, although it would be catastrophic, but of having to lie to our friends, of having to put on a performance.
It’s one thing to act the part for the media, in front of a crowd of strangers. It’s another thing to act in front of people who’ve known us both almost our entire lives. One misstep could mean the end of the ruse.
But tonight is important, because we need the support of our friends at our wedding if we’re going to make this relationship seem legitimate.
“It’s just pre-competition jitters, Pops.
” It’s what Dan tells me whenever I’m tense before a competition.
Somehow knowing it’s just nerves helps me take control over them, and I can lock in, put on the cool and collected mask I need to wear to get through it.
“We’re in this together. Try and have some fun tonight too, yeah? ”
She gives me a soft smile and a tentative nod.
“Yeah, okay. It’ll be fun.”
Poppy slides her hand down the length of my forearm and twines her fingers with mine, and although I know it’s just for appearances, something warm blooms within me.
The satisfaction of being able to give her the same reassurance I need sometimes.
I give her hand a gentle squeeze as we approach the group, already here and waiting in line for their tacky shoes.
Hudson, Grady, Mason already have beers in hand, and Mason passes me a bottle as he greets me. Poppy pulls away from me to greet her friends, as Spencer, Ally, Wren pull her in for hugs.
“Hey man,” Hudson says, slapping a hand between my shoulder blades. Grady reaches out for a handshake but uses the contact to pull me in for a crushing hug.
“So, how the fuck did we not know you and Poppy were a thing?” Grady asks as we pull apart.
My brothers and I have always been close, and of the four of us, I’ve been the most vocal about never caring to tie myself down. A pit forms in my stomach, and I take a long swig of beer to buy myself some time.
Maybe Poppy was right to be nervous, maybe convincing our friends—my brothers—that I’m suddenly ready to get hitched is an impossible task.
Out of nowhere, Wren squeals, and the rest of the women howl with laughter, as the entire bowling alley, including everyone standing around at Norm’s retirement party, all look over to see what the commotion is about.
Relief washes over me that I’m saved from having to answer Grady’s question. But I just about choke on my beer as my gaze snags on the source of the raucous that has just emerged from behind Spencer.
She’s smiling broadly, holding up a giant, shiny, helium balloon in the shape of a penis. It’s even got a happy looking cartoon face on the tip, with silly, gloved hands holding a sign that says “same penis forever.”
Ally glances around quickly before saying through laughter, “you’re lucky there aren’t any kids here, tonight Spence.”
My eyes immediately snap to Poppy, but where I expected her face to be beat red, it’s gone almost a ghostly shade of white. Her eyes are wide in shock. I can’t fully read her expression, but I decide to divert any attention away from her.
“At least if it’s my penis forever, she’s got the cream of the crop,” I joke, knowing full well that Poppy hasn’t, and probably won’t ever experience the full range of my sexual prowess.
But my response draws a few groans from the group.
It’s what I’ve come to expect, knowing by now that my brothers are well and truly sick of my shit.
But it does the job, and the comment is enough to make everyone want to stop discussing Poppy and I’s relationship, at least until we finish getting our bowling shoes.
Once we’re all fully outfitted, we head over to the lanes, mylar penis balloon in tow.
Hudson and Wren are at each other’s throats as soon as the game starts, playfully trash talking and hip checking each other as they get ready to throw their balls. You’d never guess those two were married the way they like to compete at silly games.
Poppy gets up to throw her first ball once her turn comes around, and she knocks over half the pins. When she comes back to sit down with the group, I can’t help but notice her rubbing the wrist of the hand she threw with.
She tucks her hands under her legs, and cheers as Spencer gets up to take her turn, seemingly switching off the discomfort I saw on her face a moment ago.
Grady gets up from where he’s been sitting and takes Spencer’s seat next to Poppy while she’s up to bowl. He rests his tattooed forearms on his knees, beer bottle in hand.
“I love my little brother Pops, but I will never understand how this happened,” he says with a shake of his head, pointing back and forth between Poppy and I.
Ally turns in her seat to join the conversation.
“I don’t think I ever heard the story of how you two got together.” Her blue eyes bright and sparkling with curiosity. “Weren’t you just talking about how you were on that dating app at Friendsmas? That was what, a month ago?”
A flush spreads from Poppy’s neck up to her cheeks, and she chews on the inside of her cheek.
“I was…” she starts before I cut in.
“Poppy and I have known each other forever,” I answer, making it out to be such a simple explanation that there could be no question.
And then I speak a kernel of truth that I didn’t even know was living inside me.
“I’ve always had a crush on her. When she was showing me her matches on that stupid app, I just knew, I couldn’t let her go out with any of those losers. It had to be me.”
Poppy’s eyes snap up and her gaze fixes on me, her eyebrows twitching together.
“But getting married,” Ally says. “That’s a huge step.”
“When you know, you know. It’s a big year for me. I plan on winning the World Cup and the woman of my dreams.” I lean back on the bench and stretching my arms over the back of it, trying to look unbothered.
But I can tell this is going to be harder than I thought, and I’m grateful for Wren jumping in and pointing out that it’s Poppy’s turn to bowl. Ally gives me a playful eye roll, before turning her attention back to the game.
We finish off the first round, with me coming in first. No surprise there. But we still haven’t won our friends over.
Everyone gets up to refresh their beverages between games, but as we all take our places by the lanes again, I notice Poppy isn’t here. I turn to look back at the bar to see if she’s still waiting for her drink, but I don’t spot her.
“Where’s your fiancée, Jett?” Mason asks. “Don’t tell me you’ve been jilted before you got to the altar.”
Mason and I are always ribbing each other about something, but right now I’m not in the mood.
I don’t even bother answering with my usual snark, before I leave the group to go find her. It takes me a minute or two, since there are only so many places to look, and I finally spot her, leaning against the wall in the hallway outside the washroom.
“What’s going on?” I ask, striding over to her.
I stand in front of her, but she doesn’t look up. She’s staring down at her hands, rubbing her fingers.
“We’re doing so well out there. I don’t know about you, but I think Ally is almost convinced that I’ve been madly in love with you my entire life.”
Poppy looks at me now, her eyes lined with silver.
“Hey, Poppy... Don’t cry. I know this is a lot…”
“It’s not the marriage thing,” she says, her voice cracking. “I don’t know why I thought bowling would be a good idea for my arthritis.” She lets out a puff of breath through her nose, a single tear falling onto her cheek. My chest seizes.
As if on instinct, I reach up and wipe it away with the pad of my thumb.
“You went the entire round and never said anything?” I ask, picking up her hands and gently massaging the heel of her palm. Holding her small hand in mine sends an electric shock all the way up my arm.
“I don’t like to make a big deal of it,” Poppy replies. “It makes me feel like I can’t do the things everyone else can. I’ve fought my entire life to still do everything a normal person would. I’m just waiting for my meds to start kicking in and I’ll be fine.”
“It’s okay if you want to leave, Pops,” I say. “We can always make an excuse that we just can’t keep our hands off each other and need to be alone. I can make that convincing enough.”
That gets a real laugh out of her, and it eases the deep ache that’s been growing since I saw the tears in her eyes.
She takes a deep breath, squaring her shoulders, and putting on a resolved mask. I get the feeling she wears it a lot when she’s struggling through pain.
“I can manage.” She pulls a hot pink lip gloss out of her purse and swipes some on her lips, and my gaze sticks to them. “I do it at the café all the time. Besides, I think you’re more optimistic about how much progress we’ve made out there than I am. I don’t think they’re buying it.”
Someone walks behind us and pushes past into the washroom, making me take a step forward so I’m in Poppy’s space, my chest almost pressed up against hers.
I don’t step back once they’re gone. One, because being in Poppy’s space is like being pulled toward her by a magnet, and two, if anyone passes by the hallway, all they’ll see is an intimate moment between an engaged couple.
My pulse thrums, and whether it’s from the adrenaline of the circumstances, or my proximity to Poppy, I can’t be sure.
All I know is that we’re standing so close that if I dipped my head, I could kiss her, and fuck I want to. It’s all I’ve been thinking about since I kissed her on the balcony, under the aurora. It’s been consuming me.
Clearly, I didn’t think through the consequences of kissing her the other night. I’ve kissed so many women but that… it was something else entirely. It made me never want to kiss anyone else and that thought was terrifying.
“Then let’s give them some hard proof.” I reach my hand up to cup Poppy’s face. Her eyelids go heavy, and it’s like I’m being drawn toward her by some invisible force.
I can’t ignore the fact that we’re alone right now, and whatever Poppy and I agreed to, a publicity stunt relationship and convenient dating lessons, it definitely wasn’t stolen kisses in private.
We can’t have a repeat of that kiss the other night, or this could get messy.
Moving my thumb to her lips, I wipe the bottom one, smudging the pink gloss. Her eyes snap up to mine, and she watches as I swipe it onto my own lips.
“There.” The strawberry flavour of her lip gloss makes me want to devour her mouth right here, right now. It’s an act of sheer will and determination to turn away from her, but I do.
I take her by the hand to lead her back down the hall and out toward the lanes.
“I’ll meet you over there,” I say at the last minute, letting go of her hand and veering off toward the front counter. She rejoins the group, but I have something to take care of first.
By the time I come back, everyone is wearing a confused look on their faces, the screens having changed since our first game. Where there was once space for eight names, now there’s only room for four.
“What did you do, Jett?” Spencer asks, her bright green eyes squinting at me.
“Next game is in teams!” I announce.
“Teams?” Hudson asks.
“Yeah, I want to play with Poppy,” I reply with an easy shrug.
If Poppy insists on playing, I’m going to make sure she only has to throw the ball half the time. This way, she doesn’t have to be the one to say she needs a break.
Grady lets out a low whistle.
“You are down bad,” he remarks, as everyone starts to pair off. Spencer is with Grady, Hudson with Wren, Ally with Mason.
While our friends are distracted typing their team names into the computer, Poppy finds my eyes and mouths a thank you. That warm satisfaction swells behind my ribs again. I offer her a soft smile in return, before I pick up a ball to play our first turn.