I lower my forehead to his. “Jet. My sweet Jet. I could never hate you, and I’m not retiring for you. I’m retiring for us. For me. I’m done after this season no matter what. Remember how I said I wanted to retire on my own terms and not on the NHL’s time? This is my choice. My time.”
“What happens if you don’t win the Cup?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Soren—”
“I love you. I want a life with you. A future. I want forever with you. I’ve had my career, and it’s been an amazing and fulfilling one. Now it’s your turn to have yours, and I want to be there for it.”
Jet’s warm eyes blink up at me. “I guess I must be your hat trick, huh?”
“No.”
Jet pouts.
“You’re so much more than that. You’re a goal in the last minute. A five-on-three powerplay. You’re the crowd screaming for the win.”
“I don’t know what that means, but good to know.”
I laugh. “Jet, you’re everything. You’re my Stanley Cup.”
Jet smiles. “I guess that makes you my Grammy? I don’t really know what metaphor we’re going for here.”
I hold him close. “I’ll put it the easiest way I know how to say it. You’re the most important thing in my life and being with you forever is my only goal.”
Jet’s eyes get shiny. “I want to help you achieve that goal.”
“Then we’ll do it.”
I seal our promise with another public display of affection that I’m sure is being photographed by the media.
Welcome to the rest of our lives.
Chapter Thirty-Four
JET
THE KIDLET TURNS ONE
The door to Matt and Noah’s apartment swings open, and Matt stands there holding the baby, who’s got a flowery headband on while wearing a New York hockey jersey.
Soren gasps. “Ollie beat us.”
I snicker. “He’s been good at that lately.”
Soren’s hand flies to his chest. “Wounded! Help! Do you have to rub my professional failures in my face?” He huffs, but I know he doesn’t care. I mean, not really.
He’s disappointed his team didn’t make it to the Cup game, but he left with his highest-scoring season under his belt and his head held high. New Jersey offered him three more years with a no-trade clause because of it, and he still turned it down to follow me on tour.
Hashtag real Disney love.
He still has a few connections to the sporting world. He’s agreed to feature on Lennon’s ever-growing podcast he started about six months ago, and Damon’s also been talking to him about scheduling talks and appearances all over the US to coincide with the band’s touring schedule.
Soren might’ve said goodbye to his career in the NHL, but he’ll always be involved in sports in some way.
“You guys are late, so everyone’s beaten you to presents,” Matt says.
Soren and I glance at each other out the corner of our eyes. Yeah, there’s a reason we’re late. Might have something to do with a life-altering decision followed by a quick pitstop at the county-clerk’s office.
“Give me my niece.” I reach my arms out for her, and she comes to me easily.
We’ve only managed to come to see her a handful of times with Soren’s team making it to the playoffs and Radioactive’s tour kicking off, but she still loves me, and I remind her every time I’m her favorite uncle.
“Happy birthday, kiddo,” I coo.
We enter the apartment to find the rest of the gay brigade and Wade in the living room.
“Hey, guys,” I say casually but I don’t take my eyes off Jackie. She’s so cute with her big brown eyes.
She looks up at me with a furrowed brow as if she’s trying to work me out, and I’m only mildly offended that she doesn’t remember how awesome I am.
Soren takes the seat next to Ollie, who’s sitting there with a big frown on his face and his arms folded. Probably has something to do with the giant moonboot he’s wearing.
“How’s the ankle?” Soren asks.
“Broken,” Ollie grumbles.
Lennon rolls his eyes. “It’s a hairline fracture. In your foot.”
“I’m out for at least the next six weeks.”
“Aww, poor Stanley Cup winner.” Soren pats Ollie’s head.
Soren couldn’t be happier for Ollie, and because New Jersey was knocked out by the team who then went on to win, it makes Soren feel less bad about it not being him who got to hold the Cup up at the end.
And after that triumphant win, Ollie gets tripped during preseason and somehow manages to break his ankle. Or foot … whatever.
“Thanks for the perspective, retiree,” Ollie says.
“I may be retired, but I didn’t break a bone during a preseason game … well, ever,” Soren taunts.
“Have to tell you, crying into the Stanley Cup makes me okay with that.”
Maddox groans from across the room. “Even when you’re all retired, you guys are still going to smack talk each other, aren’t you?”
“Hey,” Miller cuts in. “Just because Soren and I are retired, doesn’t mean we’re no longer athletes.”