Page 10

Chapter nine

Don't innovate too hard and break something

Jake - 12 Years Ago

I ’m sitting by the lake, the fire crackling softly as the night settles in. The kids are long asleep, and the other leaders are still laughing and talking around me, but it’s just noise. I stare at the edge of the water, letting it all fade.

Charlie sits down beside me, close enough that our shoulders touch. The soft breeze ruffles her hair as she stares out over the shoreline, and I know she can tell something’s off. She always does.

“You okay?”

I force a smile and avoid her eyes. “Yeah…”

She doesn’t press, just pulls her knees to her chest and mirrors my gaze toward the water. The way she slips into the quiet with me makes it easier to relax, like she knows what I need before I do.

I sigh, rubbing a hand over my face. I’m not used to talking about my dad and how he’s never really there . But tonight, it slips out anyway.

“Just… stuff with my dad,” I offer.

Charlie leans into my shoulder a bit more, her quiet presence like a lifeline. I’m used to holding it in, but with her beside me, I feel like I don’t have to. She’s the one person who doesn’t look at me like I have to have it all together. And tonight, I’m too tired to pretend everything’s fine.

“He’s never around,” I fina lly say. “Always working. And when he is home, it’s like he’s not even there. Like he doesn’t care.”

Her hand curls under my arm and wraps around it, linking us together. The gesture’s simple, but it feels grounding, holding me in place while I find my way through the words.

“My mom,” I pause, swallowing hard. “She’s not okay. Hasn’t been for a while. She’s tired all the time, kind of… out of it. She’s on meds now, but I don’t think they’re helping. And he doesn’t notice. Or maybe he does and doesn’t care. I don’t know which is worse."

The bitterness in my words is clear, and I hate how it sounds. But it’s the truth. He’s checked out, and I’m the one left picking up the pieces.

“Have you talked to him about it?” She asks gently.

A short, cold laugh escapes me. “Yeah. It’s like talking to a wall. He thinks everything can be fixed with a few pills. Get her on medication and problem solved, right?” I pause, my chest tightening. I don’t want to break in front of Charlie, but it’s hard to keep it all inside.

“But it’s not solved,” I mutter, hands clenching into fists. “Not for her, not for me.”

I hear my words, and they cut deeper than I expected. Charlie stays quiet, her touch still steady on my arm. She’s not trying to fix anything or give me advice, and somehow that’s exactly what I need.

“Guess that’s why I threw myself into hockey,” I murmur. “I love it, and I can control it. Work hard, get results. You don’t rely on anyone but yourself.”

Her fingers tighten slightly on my arm, and I glance over. Her eyes are soft and steady when she speaks. “But you don’t have to do everything alone.”

“I just—” My voice cracks, and I pause. “I don’t want to be like him, you know? I don’t want to be the guy who checks out when things get hard. I’m terrified of that. I don’t wanna fail the people I care about.”

“You won’t, Jake,” she says. “You’re not him.”

I shake my head, the fear bubbling up so raw and exposed now. “What if I do, though? What if I get so wrapped up in hockey that I lose sight of everyt hing else? It’s already happening. I’m obsessed. And if I make the NHL, it’ll only get worse. Half in, half out. I can’t do that.”

There it is—my biggest fear laid out in the open. The thing I’ve never let spoken words claim. That I’ll never be enough. Not for hockey, not for my family. Not for anyone.

Without a word, Charlie’s hand slips from my arm and finds my jaw, her grip firm as she turns my face toward hers. “You’re not going to fail.” She holds my eyes, her conviction sinking into me. “You care, Jake. And one day you’re gonna make someone so happy, just by being who you are.”

I stare back at her, the words settling into the spaces where my doubt lives. And for a moment, with her eyes on mine, I let myself believe her.

***

Jake - Present Day

The echo of blades on the ice should be grounding, pulling my focus back to morning skate—but not today. Not with Charlotte taking up space in it.

I haven’t stopped thinking about her since I left her office yesterday: the way she grinned and rolled her eyes at my teasing, the way her teeth sunk into her bottom lip. Being around her feels both nostalgic and new. Like a past I've missed and a future I've been waiting for, buried so deep inside I didn't realize its significance until now, has finally breached the surface.

Seeing Marcus leaning a little too close over her desk made my hands clench. It took everything in me not to drag him aside. But in a way, he did me a favor. Just cemented what I already knew. With Charlie, it’s like a fog lifts, and everything feels sharper and more alive. It terrifies me how quickly I’ve realized how much I want her, how much I always have. I think I’ve been waiting for her all along.

“ Hey, Brooks, you awake?” Ryan’s voice snaps me back. I’ve been standing still, the puck just sitting on the ice in front of me. He skates up beside me, eyebrows raised. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” I lie, taking a quick shot at the net. The puck glides in smoothly, but doesn’t bring the usual satisfaction. “Just a lot on my mind.”

Ryan doesn’t press, but I know he’s not buying it. He’s been my captain for years and knows me too well. But I’m not ready to talk about it. Not yet.

We return to the drills, and I push myself to focus, forcing Charlotte from my mind. But before long, the routine blurs, and she slips back into focus with that flash in her eyes when she flirted right back.

I skate over to the bench, grab a drink, and reach for my leather notebook—glancing over notes on plays, trying to find something to ground me. It’s something I keep on me for everything I can’t keep in my head. My therapist recommended it a few years back, as a way to manage stress and keep things in perspective. I don’t need the sessions as much anymore, but the notebook stayed. Mostly it’s filled with game strategies and scattered notes.

Lately though, I’ve started adding tiny stars in the margins each time Charlotte crosses my mind. Just a quick mark, small enough to miss, but it’s becoming a habit I can’t seem to break.

“Brooks! You in or what?” Chase skates over as I slip it back into my bag.

“Just warming up, man. Don’t get too ahead of yourself.”

Chase laughs, speeding toward the net where some of the other guys are shooting. I pick up my pace, letting adrenaline and muscle memory take over.

“Late night?” Eli asks as I line up beside him.

“Nah, just have a lot on my mind.”

“Uh-huh.” He gives me a sideways glance before refocusing.

We go through the drills, and while I’m concentrating, I'm also running through the rest of my plans of the day. I’m picking up ingredients and heading to Charlie's place this afternoon. The thought has my stomach flipping, excitement tangling with nerves.

I’m nervous, because I don’t want to mess this up. And I’m excited, because I know I won’t.

Aft er the drills, we break into smaller groups, working on specific plays. Chase skates over to me, his expression turning mischievous. “So, what’s got you so distracted, Brooks? It’s not like you to be this quiet.”

I shrug, trying to play it cool. “Just thinking about some stuff. Got plans later.”

“Plans, huh?” Chase smirks, glancing around. “Would those plans involve a certain redhead from the Pulse office?”

I can’t hide the smile tugging at my mouth. “Maybe.”

Chase claps a hand on my shoulder, testing his luck. “You know what they say about redheads… lady in the streets, fiery in the sheets.” He waggles his eyebrows. “Bet she’d keep you on your toes, or maybe I should say your knees.”

“Careful,” I warn, but he doesn’t take the hint.

“Just saying man, she’s hot! And I wouldn’t mind—”

“Fuck off, Walton. She’s not some hookup for your list.”

Chase raises his hands in mock surrender, smirk in place. “Alright, alright. Didn’t peg you as the jealous type, Brooks. Gotta say, it’s kinda cute.”

“Chase,” I say, the edge unmistakable now.

He grins, clearly thrilled with himself. “Okay, Romeo. Just keep that fire on the ice too, huh? Wouldn’t want you slipping because you’re too busy playing lover boy. ”

“This coming from the guy who loses his mind every time Zoe scowls at him from the stands?”

“Touché,” he laughs. “But don’t go getting soft on us, Brooks.”

“Not a chance.” I give him a playful shove. “I’m fully focused.”

“Yeah, on something that’s definitely not hockey,” he teases, skating off.

Coach blows the whistle, signaling the end of our practice. We gather at center ice, listening as he runs through the week’s schedule, but my mind’s already on what’s next — getting those ingredients and heading to Charlotte’s.

As we start to head off the ice, I spot Zoe standing near the boards, her camera in hand. “Jake! Smile for the camera!”

I laugh, giving her a mock salute as I skate over. “What’re you doing here s o early?”

Zoe shrugs, lowering her camera to scroll through shots. “Just getting some content. Plus, Chase said you guys were doing new drills, so I thought I’d capture some of them.”

I glance over at Chase, who’s giving Zoe his classic lopsided grin. I smell bullshit. That guy will say anything to get her attention. “ New drills , huh?”

“Yeah, we’re all about innovation,” Chase calls back, laughing.

Zoe narrows her eyes. “Uh-huh. Try not to innovate too hard and break something, Walton. I’m not in the mood for a PR disaster today.”

Chase chuckles, slinging his stick over his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Zoe. I’ll be a good boy for you. Wouldn’t want to get you all worked up.”

Zoe shakes her head, but she lingers on him for a moment before turning back to me. “Anyway, how’s your morning going, Jake?

I shrug, feeling a little exposed under her knowing watch. “Good. Got some plans this afternoon I’m looking forward to.”

“Oh? Care to share?” Her tone is light, but I know better. The way girls talk, she probably already knows exactly what I’m up to.

I smirk, leaning in slightly. “Let’s just say I’m working on a special project close to my heart.”

Zoe raises an eyebrow, biting her tongue to hold back a smile. “Well, good luck. I’m a big fan of special projects when the heart’s involved.”

I give her a nod. She knows exactly what I mean. And as Charlie’s closest friend, it feels good to have her as an ally.

As I head toward the locker room, I catch Chase circling back to Zoe. Her eyes roll at whatever he says, but a smile tugs at her lips. Those two are like a storm waiting to happen, but I’ve got my own shit to handle.

By the time I’m showered and changed, most of the guys are gone. I grab my keys, my mind already set on the afternoon with Charlie. I swing by the store, checking off her list and feeling that surge of determination again.

This isn’t just about baking. It’s about showing her I’m here for more than just a good time. This feels significant—like maybe one of the most important things I’ll ever do. I want her to let me in, to trust me enough to see where this c ould go. And if she’s not ready, then I’ll wait. Because I’m not going anywhere, not this time.

When I finally pull up to her place, I take a deep breath, looking down at my notebook on the passenger seat. I jot a couple of stars onto a page, then tuck it back in my bag and grab the groceries, my nerves humming.

I ring the doorbell, hearing the sound echo inside. A few moments later the door swings open, and there she is. Red hair catching the light, her bright smile already disarming me.

"Hey, Charlie.” My grin sharpens as I let my eyes roam over her just a little. “Or should I call you Chef?”