Chapter 50 Jett
JETT
“So, retirement,” Grady says, holding his beer bottle up in a cheers motion. “What are you going to do with all this time on your hands?”
Grady’s bar, Jack’s, which he named after our late father, is packed with everyone Poppy and I love. My brothers are standing next to me near the bar, and Spencer, Ally, and Wren are gathered around one of the tables. Beyond them, other friends and family, including Dan and Winnie, await my answer.
The second we got home from Zermatt, they all insisted on putting together a party to celebrate my win, Poppy and I deciding to stay married, and, apparently, my retirement from skiing professionally.
The dimly lit space is warm despite snow falling in peaceful drifts outside the windows, and classic rock plays over the sound system.
It’s not the wild, rowdy energy of my après parties at the bars in Banff. No one’s doing body shots, the beat of electronic music isn’t making conversation impossible, and girls aren’t flocking around me.
“I have a few things in mind,” I reply, being intentionally vague. No one has to know that I fully intend on taking Poppy home tonight and not emerging from her bedroom for the next week.
My gaze meets Poppy across the space to where she’s seated. She’s wearing the same sweater she had on the night I kissed her for the first time. Cream coloured, with a lavender and light blue pattern.
Seeing her in it now, with everything that has happened between us, sends a pang of nostalgia through my heart, followed by a flood of gratitude for how far we’ve come since that night.
How much her and I have overcome.
I’m closing a lot of chapters in my life, but I’m opening up a whole new one that I never thought I’d be ready for. Settling down, finding stability and peace and calm, but still looking forward to every day.
And I’m no longer scared. I’m no longer avoiding falling in love because it will end. In some way shape or form, everything always does. But that’s what makes every moment that much sweeter. It’s what makes living and loving so much more worthwhile.
So, I let myself embrace the fall line, because I knew the person waiting for me at the bottom was Poppy. And once I did, I flew, and it was an exhilarating rush I’ve never felt before. Not in my entire career. Not in my entire life.
I will chase that feeling forever, falling for Poppy. I’ll race toward her every single day for the rest of my life.
Poppy smiles broadly back at me, her dark eyes glimmering. I wouldn’t change her, or this night, for the world.
“But as for next season?” I add. “I think I will try my hand at coaching. Turns out, I’m a decent teacher. And Dan’s already offered me an opportunity to coach together.”
I lift my beer in Dan’s direction, and he flashes me a don’t worry about it look from where he’s sitting at the bar, as if him giving me a job was the only logical option. The obvious next step.
It was clear as day to me when he brought it up. I didn’t have to think about my answer.
Dan is the person I’ve looked up to my entire career, nearly my whole life.
He’s mentored me, helped me believe in myself.
It may have been Poppy that finally broke down my walls, but I wonder now if Dan has just been waiting for it to happen.
Waiting for the catalyst that made me set my ego aside and just fucking listen to him for once.
He’s patient as a goddamned saint is all I can say. How he put up with my shit for so long I don’t know, but he deserves an award. A fucking Nobel Peace Prize or something.
“Are you staying in Heartwood?” Spencer asks, her eyes flicking from me to Poppy, a line of concern etched in her brow. I can feel Poppy’s gaze on me too.
We haven’t officially talked about it, and I haven’t officially told her that I spoke with a realtor about listing my house in Banff.
Because against all odds, I do want to come back to Heartwood, settle down here for good.
I love this sleepy little hometown of mine, and I could never take Poppy away from the café.
I glance at Poppy, my mouth sliding into a smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I am. We are.”
Poppy beams back at me.
“I’m thinking about opening a gym here in Heartwood. We could use a better training space here, and it might give athletes a reprieve from the spotlight.”
As the evening turns into night, people trickle out of the bar, pulling on coats and hats before venturing out into the snow. Soon, there’s only a handful of my closest friends and family left, all crowded into a large corner booth.
All my closest people—except for Dan. I didn’t see him leave, so I scan the bar and spot him perched on a stool, toasting to something with Winnie.
Before I can wonder what that’s about, Poppy slips in beside me, and every point where we touch lights up like an electric spark under my skin.
“I still can’t get over that this whole thing was fake,” Ally is saying when I turn my attention away from my wife and back to the group.
“It wasn’t all fake,” Poppy argues, turning to look up at me, her lips twisting into a playful smirk. I can’t help but notice the way Wren is grinning as well, and I wonder how much of our agreement she was aware of.
“No, I’ve always loved calling Poppy my wife,” I admit. “Has a nice ring to it.”
I place my lips on her temple, planting a tender kiss there. She melts into me, and my whole body hums at her nearness.
“You know, I’ve always loved ribbing you,” Mason chimes in. “But I’m really glad to see you happy like this, little brother. I’m proud of you. I’ve always been proud of you.”
Emotion constricts my throat, so instead of responding, I lift my beer glass toward him with a tight nod. As much as I love the sarcastic banter between Mason and I—any of my brothers, really—I realize in this moment how badly I’ve wanted their approval all along.
Admitting that made me vulnerable though, so it was easier to wear this aloof, unserious mask as a way of protecting myself. But I like this so much better. Being seen, being accepted, being myself. Being cared for, and caring for others.
I swallow past the lump in my throat, and even though a wry response is on the tip of my tongue, I know everyone catches the crack in my voice.
“Of course you’re proud of me, you have a world class athlete as a brother,” I quip, because although I’ve changed in a lot of ways, I’ll always be Jett Landry at the end of the day.
Hudson reaches over and punches my bicep while Wren rolls her eyes.
“On that note,” Ally raises her glass of rosé. “Here’s to the new-ish Mr. and Mrs. Landry.”
The whole group lifts their glasses for what has to be the hundredth toast of the night. There’s plenty to celebrate, and having everyone here for us fills me with a steady, grounded kind of warmth.
But when I look over at my wife, it hits me all over again.
I have everything I could ever want, everything I could ever hope for, and everything I could ever need with Poppy by my side. I no longer need accolades, fame, or trophies. I’ve been there, done that.
Now, I want something far more valuable, far more precious.
I just want her.