Page 9

Chapter 9

Jacob

T he roar of the crowd still echoes in my ears as the final horn blows.

Blades win. 3-1.

Skating off the ice, pride swells inside my chest. Scoring a goal and leading the team to victory over the Rangers was exactly what I needed.

The locker room is a chaos of high-fives and laughter, the guys celebrating like we've just won the cup, not just a playoff game.

For me, every win is another piece of evidence, another argument to show George Corso that I deserve to be here. That my love life, dalliances, or lack thereof, won't eclipse my career, no matter what the rumors say.

Every time I doubt myself, I remember why I'm here—why I'm fighting to stay in the game I love.

I scan the faces around the rink, looking for the one person whose opinion somehow seems to matter the most these days.

Gabi.

It’s ridiculous, really, but I can’t help it. Not that I'd admit that to anyone, least of all myself.

Just as I catch a glimpse of her in the stands, Gio, her older brother and my best friend, charges at me, grabbing me by the neck in a bear hug.

"That's what I'm talking about!" Gio shouts, practically squeezing the life out of me with his huge arms.

I pat his back, smiling despite myself. It’s hard not to get swept up in his enthusiasm.

"Only took three tries to get past their goalie," I laugh, trying to shake off the goofy grin I know is plastered on my face. But the look Gio gives me isn’t just about the win.

He’s proud.

And that, coming from my best friend, means more than he might ever know.

As we shuffle into the locker room, the guys are still riding high on the adrenaline rush of our win. Gio's beside me, smiling from ear to ear, but I can feel the gears in his head turning. It doesn't take long before he starts his interrogation, albeit quietly.

"So," he begins, like he’s talking about the weather, "how's it going with Gabi?"

I know where this is heading and quickly dive into my locker, pretending to be engrossed in a routine search for something that doesn't even exist. "It's going," I reply nonchalantly, hoping that'll be enough to keep him at bay.

But Gio is persistent, and subtlety isn't exactly his strong suit.

"Going well, I hope?" he presses, his tone light but his eyes serious.

I pull out a random pair of socks, giving them way too much attention. "Yeah, well enough. You know how it is."

He doesn't. Not really. And the look on his face tells me he's not buying my nonchalant routine. "You sure, Jake? You don't look too...well, enthralled."

I roll my eyes, now searching for my missing shin guards, though I know I carefully placed them in my bag earlier. "Enthralled? Who even uses that word, man?"

"Just looking out for you," he says, and there's that damn sincerity again. "I mean, it's just a pretend thing, right?"

I force a smile, finally pretending to find the elusive shin guards. "Right, just pretend. No big deal."

He claps me on the shoulder with a little more force than needed. "All right, just keep your head in the game. Don't let this...whatever it is, mess you up."

I nod, grateful for the quick end to the conversation. The laughter and noise of our teammates fill the room, providing a perfect distraction. I dive into the chaos, glad to leave Gio's quiet questions behind, at least for the moment.

I'm out of the locker room and finally free from Gio's well-meaning but relentless inquisition. I change as quickly as I can and slip out, phone in hand, to text Gabi.

"I’ll meet you around the corner. Cab's waiting," I type, then hit send.

Barely a minute later, she's sliding into the backseat beside me, her energy palpable even after the game. We exchange a quick, familiar smile before the cab starts moving.

The driver takes us through the winding streets, the stadium lights fading behind us as we head toward our hotel.

As we get close, I notice Gabi's restlessness. She’s tapping her foot and looking out the window like there’s a tiger on her tail. My concern is piqued. I turn to her with a knowing look.

"Everything all right?" I ask.

"Yeah, just.. I don't know, I need to walk," she says, her eyes scanning the street like it holds the answers to the universe.

"Now?"

I raise an eyebrow, but I'm already knocking on the cab window to pull over.

The driver complies, and we step out onto the sidewalk. The cool night air wraps around us, a welcome change from the sweaty intensity of the game. Gabi starts walking, her pace quick and determined despite her pregnant belly.

I smile, just watching her. "This better?" I ask.

"Much." She sighs, then grins up at me. "I needed to stretch my legs. Besides, you could use a breather too."

We continue walking, the rhythm of our steps syncopated with the quiet hum of the city at night. With each stride, I can't help but let my mind wander further and further afield.

Could there be something more between us? It's a dangerous thought, filled with possibilities and pitfalls.

Gabi glances at me, probably sensing the gears turning in my head.

"Hey, I meant to thank you for hiring that nurse for Nonna," she says, her tone gratingly casual.

"Ah." I place my hands inside the pockets of my sweatpants. "So, she told you about that?"

"Of course she did. She loves to brag about her 'sweet boy'."

"Lemme guess...I'm her sweet boy because I hired a nurse for her?"

"Pretty much." Gabi laughs.

I chuckle, shaking my head. "It was nothing, Gabi. Anything for your Nonna. Besides, she's one of the few people who actually likes me."

"True," she giggles, nudging me playfully. Then, with a mischievous glint in her eye, she adds, "So, Jacob Walker, the infamous charmer, tell me, do you ever get tired of those whirlwind romances?"

I groan, already knowing where this is headed. "Ah, come on, Gabi. You know I can't help it if women find my roguish good looks irresistible."

Her laugh is like a melody I didn't know I needed to hear tonight. "Seriously, do you think a woman could ever really trust you? A man like Jacob Walker?"

I stop walking for a moment, turning to face her.

The streetlights cast a warm glow on her face, making her look almost ethereal.

"I don't know, Gabi. Maybe I'm a lost cause. Or maybe I just need the right person to come along."

"Or maybe...you just need someone who sees through all the bravado to the real Jacob underneath."

There's a beat of silence, the air thick with unspoken words.

I muster up a smirk, hoping to shift the focus away from my predictable romantic escapades. "All right then, enough about me and my so-called infamous charm. What about you, Miss De Luca? What's going on in your love life?"

She stiffens, her playful demeanor faltering for the briefest second. "Oh, you know...just busy with work and Nonna. Not much time for anything else."

"No, seriously." I press gently. "I know you don't like to talk about him, but the father of your child...he must have messed things up for you pretty bad." I gesture to the round swell of her belly. It's only growing more pronounced as the weeks go by.

Her hand unconsciously goes to rest on her stomach. "Yeah, he did. But you know what? I don't need a man to make me happy. I have my family and my friends...and this little one."

She smiles down at her belly, a softness in her gaze that catches me off guard.

I realize then that Gabi is so much more than the tough, no-nonsense professional everyone sees. There's a vulnerability in her that she keeps hidden from most people.

Lately, I've gotten glimpses of it—little peeks behind the strong facade she shows the world. And I can't lie. A part of me wants to unravel all the layers of her and discover what lies beneath.

As we walk, I find one question burning in my mind more than all the others. I finally give in to the urge and ask.

"So, what about your dream guy? Who is he?"

She glances over, eyebrows lifting. "Jacob, you really want to know about my dream guy?"

"Hey, you've heard all about my so-called charm. It's only fair I get to know what kind of Prince Charming you're waiting for."

She lets out a sigh, swinging a curtain of her dark over her shoulder. "I'm not looking for a Prince Charming. I don't have time for that nonsense. I'm focused on more important things."

"Nah, nah, don't give me that. I know how women talk. You guys have a secret list of qualities you want in your dream guy. Mine just happens to be pretty short: alive, not a serial killer." I raise an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Come on, Gabs. Every woman has a type...a fantasy ideal of the perfect man. For instance, does he have to be a knight in shining armor?" I grin. "Maybe he could be just some dude with a steady job and a decent sense of humor?"

She laughs. "I don't know..." Her pretty brows fold together on her forehead. "He's definitely not the knight in shining armor type. They tend to be way too high maintenance. I'd rather have someone who's down-to-earth, makes me laugh, and isn't afraid to get his hands dirty."

"Ah, so a handyman with a punchline. Should be easy enough to find. I think there's a whole aisle dedicated to them at Home Depot."

"Ha, ha, very funny. But seriously, I just want someone who's genuine and laid-back. Someone who can handle my crazy schedule and understands my passion for my job." I watch her pretty face, noticing the shift in her expression as she considers my words. "And well, if we're talking fantasies here..."

I nod, swallowing. "We are."

"He'd be tall. Handsome. And most importantly, he would make me laugh. I also need someone who can keep up with my sarcastic sense of humor."

"You mean someone who's not intimidated by your razor-sharp tongue?"

She laughs, a tinkling sound that sends warmth through me. "Exactly. And he would also be passionate about something, have drive and ambition in his life." She looks at me, green eyes blinking slowly before she speaks. "And I guess...someone who is dependable, but not boring. Strong, but he doesn't have to prove it all the time. Fun, but knows when to be serious. Honest, kind, and someone who sees the real me and doesn't run away."

As she lists these qualities, a strange realization settles over me.

Gabi's ideal man sounds an awful lot like...well, me.

I clear my throat. "Well, don’t settle for anything less. You deserve every bit of happiness, you know?"

"Thanks, Jacob. Maybe there's hope for both of us yet."

We finally arrive at the hotel, and I can’t shake this growing feeling that this fake relationship is starting to feel way too real.

Every glance. Every laugh. Every touch.

It's like those very things I loved about Gabi when we were kids have only amplified over time.

And I can't help but wonder if she feels the same way.

Now standing outside her suite door, I fully intend to bid her goodnight and make my exit, but somehow, my feet feel glued to the floor.

She looks at me with those green eyes, a mix of exhaustion and something else in them that makes my heartbeat quicken.

"Well, here we are," she says softly, fiddling with the room key in her hands.

"Yeah, here we are," I repeat, sounding like an idiot.

My mind is screaming at me to just say goodnight and leave, but my body won’t listen. I watch as she finally gets the door open and steps inside, and for a moment, it feels like the world tilts on its axis.

"Goodnight, Gabi," I manage to say, my voice sounding foreign to my own ears. But my legs? They refuse to move.

She turns back, her eyes searching mine. "You sure you’re okay, Jacob? You look like you’ve seen a ghost."

"Yeah." I stuff my hands into my pockets. "Just...thinking."

"Good thoughts, I hope?"

"The best." I cough. "Well, goodnight then."

But as the door begins to close, something inside me snaps, and before I know it, I’m holding the door open.

"Wait. Gabi?"

She blinks. "Yes?"

"I...I should get you a jersey with my name on it. If you're going to be my fake fiancé, you need to support the team, right?"

"The team...or you?"

"Both, I guess."

She grins. "Okay, sure. But only if you get a matching one with my name on it. Deal?"

She holds out her hand, and I look down at it. Her fingernails are painted a pale pink, and for some reason, that makes my gut tighten.

I fully plan to shake her hand and then make my grand escape. That’s the plan—simple and straightforward. But as I reach out, my hand seems to have a mind of its own. It moves past her hand and gently cups her cheek instead.

What am I doing? My brain screams to abort mission.

But my body? It clearly didn't get the memo. Instead, I find myself leaning in, closer and closer. Her eyes widen, and for a split second, I worry she might push me away or laugh it off.

But then she tilts her head just a little, her breath warm against my lips. She smells like mint and something sweeter, something uniquely Gabi. Her hands move to my shoulders, pulling me even closer, and I think I might just float away.

Suddenly, every coherent thought I had flies out the window as my lips land on hers.