Page 92 of Never Pucking Ending

I blink.

Blink again.

When I glance at Jesse, he’s smiling. Because he knew. He’d been caught and didn’t tell me?

Jesse shrugs and pecks Mom’s cheek when she goes in for a hug in greeting. “I was wondering if you were going to bring that up.”

Mom’s sigh is light as she goes from him to me, squeezing me extra tight like she’s happy. When she draws back, there’s a huge smile on her face as she studies me. “Love looks good on you, sweetie. I should have known. You always glowed around Jesse.”

My cheeks turn pink before I can stop the embarrassment from forming. “Oh, well…”

“I mean,” she continues, sitting down, “I knew you had a crush on him. But you were young. You both were. I assumed you’d grow out of it. Guess I was wrong.”

Jesse leads me to the chairs across from them, pulling mine out and easily pushing it in after I sit. “See?” he asks, pecking my cheek when he sits beside me. “Nothing to worry about.”

He doesn’t comment on the crush at all. He doesn’t poke fun or take a lighthearted jab at my expense. He just…takes the menu and scans it over for something to eat.

Mom and Frank look between us.

But they don’t say anything about this.

Mostly because Jesse, while staring at the drink menu, says, “I’m retiring.”

*

As soon as the door locks behind us that night, I turn to him and ask the one question I’ve been wanting to all night. “Are you sure?”

Jesse doesn’t need me to elaborate on what I’m referring to. “Yes. I think the only thing I’ve been surer about is you. But retiring is a close second.”

How long has he been thinking about this? His father asked him the same thing, but Jesse simply shrugged and said ‘awhile’ and told us that he had meetings about it lined up. Then the waitress came and took our drink orders, giving Jesse a flirty smile like women always do. And, like always, he paid her no attention. Instead, he’d asked me what I wanted to drink and grabbed my hand to hold. On top of the table. In front of everyone. By the time she’d left to put our orders in, the conversation had changed to something else.

I follow him into the kitchen after we take our coats off. “I’m just a bit surprised. You never really talked to me about it. Not that you have to, obviously. It’s your life. Your career. But I thought…” I thought we told each other everything.

It isn’t hurt that I feel because that would be ridiculous. I’m not hurt that he didn’t confide in me. But maybe a little…disappointed? Even that seems silly. I’m not owed any explanation since I’m not the one who has to make that hard decision.

Jesse puts his hands on my arms and rubs them, making me look up at him. “I wanted to be sure about my choice before I told you. It was between doing one more season and calling it quits now. The only reason I would have added one more was to end on a better note. But I don’t have shit to prove to anybody. What happened, happened. My body is tired. I’m tired. And I want to focus on a different kind of future.”

The one he talked about before comes to mind, with marriages and babies. Suddenly, I picture myself with a baby belly while watching him play with a toddler in the front yard of a house. Somewhere on the outskirts, but still near the bookstore. He’d read to our children in the reading corner and sneak them snacks when I’m with customers.

A lump forms in my throat at the thought of our future. “Okay.” It’s that simple. This is his choice, and I will support him no matter what. I know how much he loves hockey. It’s been his life since he was a teenager. That’s decades of dedication to the sport that knows his name well. It can’t be easy to decide saying goodbye to it. “As long as you’re sure.”

“I am.”

“Positive?” I hedge, studying him.

His lips kick up at the corners. “Yes.”

“Pinky promise?” I ask.

He holds out his pinky. “I promise that I am ready to move on to new things. You can teach me how to bake and make those fancy coffees you love so much and tell me all about the latest popular books so I can help sell them at the store.”

I rock on my heels, so at loss for words. He wants to retire from the NHL to…sell pastries and books? At my store? “You’d sell the books?”

“Sure.” He doesn’t seem to understand how important this is. How huge. “You’d have to catch me up on what’s trending. Maybe help me download that app you’re always listening to books on so I can see what the big deal is. I’m a slow reader.”

He wants to listen to audiobooks.

I suck in a breath. “You can have your own shelf of book recommendations.”