Page 13

Chapter 13

Jacob

I groan as I slowly open my eyes to the familiar, sterile white of the hospital room.

My head feels like it's been through a blender, and my wrist is throbbing underneath the cast. The nurse told me the concussion and multiple contusions will take some time to heal, but I'll live.

Physically, at least.

Mentally? Emotionally? I'm not so sure.

Ever since Gabi told me I'm the father of her unborn child, my mind’s been a mess.

She laid it all out there—everything about that night we slept together after Josh's party. The night I was too drunk to remember anything. It's all been a blur, and now I'm dealing with the fallout of that hazy night.

As I lie here, it's not just the pain from my injuries that's eating at me.

It’s the guilt—the damn, suffocating guilt.

I keep replaying my life in my head, each scene more painful than the last.

Losing Mom so young, then feeling like an unwanted guest in my own home because of my stepmother.

Nonna was the only one who filled that void, caring for me along with her own grandchildren, Gabi and Giovanni. She was a mother figure to me after Mom died.

My father? He was always Switzerland, forever neutral and oblivious to how deeply his indifference cut me. The fights with my stepmother were relentless, and the last argument ended with Dad essentially choosing her over me.

I'd stormed out of the house that night, seeking solace in a bottle...or five.

The next thing I knew, I woke up to the stark reality that one night of poor choices had led me here, to this moment—to be a father before I even felt ready to navigate my own life.

I don't know what to do next.

My mind keeps drifting back to Gio. If he ever found out the truth—that I, his best friend, knocked up his little sister—there's no telling what he'd do.

Probably remove a body part or two.

And then there's George Corso, the owner of the Chicago Blades, a man with a temper hotter than his Zamboni's engine.

Considering the rumors that have been swirling around about me and his wife, he's just looking for a reason to boot me off the team. Hell, if he discovered I was involved in this mess, he wouldn't stop until he ruined me completely.

And it wouldn't take much. One wrong move, and it'll be game over for me, both on and off the ice.

Part of me wants to run, to escape the weight of it all. But another part of me—that insane part has been chasing Gabriella De Luca since I could lace my own shoes—wants nothing more than to stay and fight for this unexpected gift.

Is it guilt? Obligation?

Or something deeper? Something more? Something I'm not sure I've even admitted to myself.

The truth is, I have no clue, and it doesn't look like I'll have answers anytime soon.

For now, though, I need to focus on getting out of this damn hospital and figuring out how to make things right. Somehow.

All I know is that the call I'm wrapping up with my manager, Tim, back in Chicago won't be the last difficult one I make.

I'll have to talk to my stepmother eventually, too. And Dad.

But for now, my focus is on getting out of here and facing the music back home.

"Shoot straight with me, Tim. How bad is it?" I ask, gripping the edge of the bed like it's the only thing anchoring me to sanity.

Tim sighs on the other end of the line, his voice crackling a bit. "Well, Jacob, let's just say if life were a hockey game, you'd be in the penalty box right now. Or better yet, double minor."

I huff out a laugh, despite myself. "Only I could manage that, huh? Guess I'm talented like that."

"Talented, sure. But really, kid, you need to keep your head in the game. And by game, I mean more than just hockey. You're gonna need to keep the lawyer and the accountant on speed dial.”

"Great, just what I need. More people to tell me how badly I've screwed up," I mutter, rubbing my temple. "Tell Alex to stock up on stress balls or something. I have a feeling I'm gonna need them."

"I'll see if our budget covers that. But seriously, keep your nose clean. George Corso is already breathing down my neck, and you know how he is. We don't want to give him any ammunition."

"I'm on it. Well, as soon as I can walk out of this place without this ridiculous hospital gown flapping in the breeze."

"Just remember, Jacob. One wrong move..."

"...And it's game over. I know, Tim. I hear you loud and clear. Thanks, by the way."

"Yeah, yeah. Just don't make me regret these sleepless nights, okay? Take care, kid."

I end the call with Tim and toss my phone onto the bedside table. Leaning back on the lumpy pillows, I flick my eyes to the TV screen hanging from the ceiling.

The Blades are skating circles around New York, and my heart leaps every time one of my teammates zips across the ice.

The team squeaked by with a win in Game Three, bringing the series to 2-1. If we win Game Four and the one after it, we advance to the next round.

It's do or die.

If we can pull this off, it's a fast track to the championship cup. My fingers itch, wishing I could grip my hockey stick instead of this stupid bed railing.

Just as I get lost watching Parker pull off a beautiful deke, something—or rather, someone—catches my eye.

There, in the seats right beside the rink, is Gabi. Her silky dark hair is unmistakable, even from this distance. My pulse picks up, and not just because of the game.

The incessant beeping of my blood pressure monitor yanks me from my thoughts louder than a foghorn in a quiet harbor.

Shit. Just what I need right now.

Moments later, Nurse Jenkins bustles in, her cheery demeanor a sharp contrast to my tangled mind.

"Well, well, someone's got their heart rate up! Watching the game or dreaming of sugarplum fairies?" she teases, flashing a warm smile as she checks the monitor.

"Yeah, something like that." My eyes stay glued to the screen. "Guess the Blades have me a little more excited than usual."

"Or maybe it's something, or someone, rink-side causing this ruckus?" she says, raising an eyebrow in that all-knowing way only nurses can.

"Okay, busted. But can you blame me?" I smirk, trying to mask any real emotion. "Have you seen the way Parker's playing tonight? He's on fire."

"Sure, sure, blame it on Parker." She adjusts the cuff. "Just take it easy, all right? We don't need you flatlining over a hockey game."

With a final pat on my arm, she leaves the room, still chuckling under her breath. Alone again, I let out a sigh, trying to settle my racing thoughts.

What the hell am I gonna do now? Seeing Gabi looking more radiant than a clutch goal under the stadium lights, throws me into a whirlwind.

Getting involved with her could be the best highlight reel of my life or a penalty that sinks my career.

She lied about me being the father of her baby. It’s a massive betrayal that's hard to skate past.

My hockey career is everything I've worked for, and my life was on a pretty clear path. Now, it's all clouded by Gabi and her secrets.

But damn, ignoring the chemistry between us isn't exactly my strong suit. One look at her, and I'm right back in that dangerous but exhilarating place.

Do I take a slapshot at a second chance, risking everything, or play it safe and stick to the game plan?