Page 39 of Blocked Shot
“Me too,” he says, stealing a glance at Natalie.
“Pierogis are delicious!” Pavel declares, lifting one dramatically on his fork before popping it into his mouth happily. “Tastes like home.”
A flush creeps up Natalie’s neck as Jake looks at her from across the table. “Couldn’t have done it without Natalie. She did most of the work.”
She shrugs, suddenly very interested in pushing the mashed potatoes around on her plate. “You were an adequate sous-chef, I suppose.”
“I was hopeless,” Jake says, raising his beer glass, his eyes twinkling over the rim as he takes a sip.
“I, for one, think they are lip-smacking good,” Mila declares, casting a mischievous glance between Natalie and Jake.
“Yeah, I’ve been sleeping on pierogis,” Jesse says, completely oblivious to the glare Natalie is giving Mila. “These are great.”
“Mmmmm… They have a great mouthfeel. Don’t they, Nat?” Mila continues. “A little tough on the outside, soft on the inside.”
“Seriously?” Natalie hisses at her friend, a blush creeping up her neck.
But Mila is undeterred, plowing the conversation forward with a smirk. Turning towards Jake, she regards him innocently. “Totally worth thehardwork. Wouldn’t you agree, Jake?”
Jake chokes mid-swallow, sputtering on his beer. He coughs violently, eyes watering as he thumps his chest, trying to regain control while the table erupts into laughter.
“You okay, Mac?” Theo asks curiously.
“Fine,” Jake coughs, setting his glass down. “Went down the wrong way.”
“Please ignore her,” Natalie says quietly, not trusting herself to look at Jake. She keeps her eyes fastened on her plate, hiding her smile, and takes a bite of the pierogi. It really is good.
“So, Mac,” Carter leans forward, oblivious to what has just occurred. “What’s next for you, man? When are you gonna get the call up?”
The lightness in Jake’s expression dims a fraction, but he masks it quickly. He lets out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Nothing solid.”
Unlike the rookies, Jake is on a two-way contract with the AHL and NHL, meaning the Whalers’ NHL affiliate—the Brooklyn Mavericks—could call him up to play anytime. There’s also the possibility of a trade. If another NHL team acquires his rights, he’d have to pack up and move in an instant.
“Lots of teams looking to add some grit to the lineup,” Carter says with a grin, shoveling a bite of stuffing into his mouth. “Wouldn’tshock me if you get scooped up. I mean, you’ve got that rugged, veteran appeal. Like a hockey-playing Clint Eastwood.”
Jake huffs a laugh, eyes on his plate. “Yeah, maybe.”
Carter leans in a little, dropping his voice just enough to be playful. “But seriously—if nothing comes through, are you thinking about hanging up the skates? You’ve only got a one-year contract right?”
The table falls into a hush, the kind that hums with held breath. The three rookies glance at Jake with wide-eyed curiosity, sensing something unspoken and leaning in anyway, like kids circling a campfire.
Across the table, Theo stiffens. Mila doesn’t look up. Both of them can feel it—the way Carter’s well-meaning question hit something raw. They drop their gazes to their plates, forks idle, as if giving Jake the dignity of silence is the only respectful thing left to do.
Jake hesitates, his jaw tightening slightly. “I don’t know yet. Haven’t really figured that part out.”
Natalie watches him, noticing the way he downplays the weight of it. She knows hockey has been his life since he was a kid. Now that his NHL days may be a thing of the past, he is standing on uncertain ground. It hurts to see him like this, forced to consider a future without the one thing he has always counted on.
“You’ve got plenty left in you,” Carter says, trying to lighten the mood. “Some team will pick you up.”
Jake offers a small, appreciative smile but doesn’t respond.
“I have a question for you, Jakey. May I call you Jakey?” Mila asks, turning toward him with a sly smile and leaning in like she’s about to spill a secret. “Did you really bite a man’s finger off?”
Jake nearly chokes again, sputtering into his drink. Around the table, laughter explodes.
“Oh shit, shewentthere,” Tristan cackles, eyes gleaming.
Jesse slaps the table. “Come on, Mac. I’vealwayswanted to know.”
