Page 11

Chapter 11

Jacob

I wake up with a start, the sunlight cutting through the small gap in the curtains like a spotlight exposing the disarray around the room.

Gabi's hotel room always feels so damn familiar, almost like coming home, and that's messing with my head.

Last night was...something else.

Her soft breaths next to me. The way she held onto me. Her body trembling underneath mine.

It was more than just a physical connection. It felt like a homecoming, and I've got to figure out why.

But before I can dwell too much on that, there's this buzzing excitement in the air.

Today's the big playoff game against New York, and the whole team's riled up, especially with the new defenseman they've added.

Everyone's talking strategy, but me?

I'm still buzzing from waking up beside Gabi, her scent lingering on my skin and my mind replaying every moment of last night like it's on loop.

I felt like a new man stepping out of that bed this morning, recharged in a way I haven't been in years. But with this game looming over us, I've got to get my head straight.

The city of Chicago's counting on us, my teammates are counting on me, and hell, I can't let a night in Gabi's bed—no matter how incredible it was—distract me from what needs to be done on the ice.

But damn, if it wasn't the best start to a game day I've ever had.

I skated out onto the ice with my teammates, the crowd roaring around us like we were gladiators entering the arena.

My heart pounded in my chest, not just from the anticipation of the game, but from the whirlwind of thoughts about Gabi swirling in my head.

I want to tell her how I really feel, but the fear of rejection—of losing what we have—is gnawing at me. And what would Giovanni think if he found out? He's been my ride-or-die since the beginning, and he's always been protective of Gabi.

I can't imagine he'd be too thrilled at the prospect of us together.

The puck drops, jolting me back to reality.

This is game two of our seven-game series against New York, and they're out for blood.

Slashing, hooking, you name it—they're using every trick in the book to wear us down. I'm dodging hits left and right, adrenaline surging through my veins. The physicality is brutal, and every bone in my body is screaming, but I'm holding my ground.

The whole city of Chicago is counting on us.

I can’t let a single misstep on my end cost us the game. Yet, as I pass the puck and take a hit against the boards, my mind drifts to Gabi's face, wondering if she's watching, wondering if she feels the same way.

I try to focus, to stay locked in the game, but my mind keeps wandering back to Gabi.

Each time I dodge another hit or make a pass, the memory of her smile, her laugh, it's like a siren call, pulling me away from the ice.

Suddenly, in a split second of clarity, I catch a glimpse of the stands. Amidst the sea of frenzied fans, I see her.

My heart skips a beat.

She's there, right there. And for the first time, she's wearing a jersey—with my name on it.

That sight hits me harder than any check I've taken tonight.

Gabi, in my jersey, cheering me on.

It's like the universe has given me a jolt of energy.

The game rages on around me, but now, I've got a new wave of determination. This one's for Gabi, for the team, and for all of Chicago. I grip my stick tighter, ready to give it everything I've got.

I'm so wrapped up in the sight of Gabi, her smile radiating brighter than any arena floodlight, that I almost forget where I am.

Almost.

Reality slams back into me with all the subtlety of a speeding freight train.

I'm staring right at Jim "The Wall" Wallace, New York's newest defenseman, barreling directly at me. Too late to dodge, too stunned to brace myself, I feel the impact before I even have time to think.

The crunch of contact echoes in my ears, my body folding like a cheap lawn chair against the boards.

Pain shoots through me, white-hot and paralyzing.

My vision blurs.

The ice isn't just cold beneath me. It's numbing, like it wants to swallow me whole.

The rink's roar fades, replaced by a ringing that seems to come from inside my skull.

I manage to look up just in time to see Jim smirk before skating off, leaving me crumpled like a forgotten piece of paper.

Fantastic. Just fantastic.

I can hear the collective gasp of the crowd, the murmur of concern that follows. But in the midst of it all, there's Gabi's face—more worried than before, her eyes locked on mine.

Her green eyes are the last thing I see before I close my eyes and give in to the pain.