Page 82 of Blocked Shot
That’s whatmatters now.
Jake rolls his shoulders, wincing as the muscles protest. His body throbs from too many hits, muscles bruised and bones tired, but that’s nothing new. He’s long since learned to live with the wear and tear. It’s the ache in his chest that’s harder to shake—the kind that no amount of training or competition can fix. It’s been there since the moment Natalie walked away, a dull, relentless ache that no amount of distraction can shake.
As he steps onto the escalator, his gaze drifts over the crowd below. His mind is still a messy tangle of everything that has unravelled over the last month when he spots her. Charlotte is standing near the baggage claim, holding up a crooked sign that says Uncle Jake in messy, bold letters. His chest tightens. He grips the railing a little tighter, blinking hard against the sudden burn in his eyes. He hadn’t known she was coming. Hadn’t realized how much he needed someone familiar waiting for him until now.
By the time he reaches her, his throat is tight. Charlotte grins, wrapping her arms around him before he can even get a word out.
“Surprise,” she murmurs, squeezing him hard.
Jake lets out a shaky breath, hugging her back tightly. “Yeah,” he manages, voice rough. “Big one.”
Jake breaks the hug and takes Charlotte by the shoulders, giving her a once-over. Her chin-length blonde hair is haphazardly clipped back, stray pieces escaping to frame her lightly freckled face. The dark circles beneath her twinkling blue eyes betray her exhaustion, but there’s warmth in them too, a spark of happiness that’s unmistakable. She’s wearing a frayed t-shirt with a logo he doesn’t recognize—probably some indie band she got into when she moved here. A faded white stain smears one shoulder, and yep, that’s definitely spit-up. She looks exhausted, running on fumes, but there’s something steady in her, something that makes Jake’s chest tighten.
Damn, it’s good to see her.
“I missed you,” he says, pulling her in for another hug before he can stop himself. If his sudden tenderness surprises Charlotte, she doesn’t show it.
“Missed you too, big bro,” she murmurs.
“Are the girls here?” Jake asks, glancing around, noting the absence of his sister’s baby entourage.
Charlotte snorts. “Are you kidding? This is practically a vacation. I got to drive somewhere alone for a whole hour. No crying, no blowouts, no digging through my bag for god knows what. It was bliss.”
Jake blinks. “Uh… okay?” He’s not sure how to respond to that. Should he be concerned? Is she okay?
Charlotte waves a hand. “They’re with Seb. His mom came over as backup.”
She shifts her weight, throwing him a knowing look. “I’m all yours—free to drive you to your hotel, the rink, wherever you need.”
She must catch the flicker of disappointment on his face because she nudges him lightly with her shoulder. “Trust me, it’s better this way. Four-month-olds do not travel well. But don’t worry, you’ll get all the squishy baby cuddles you want when you come over.”
A rush of pleasure surges through Jake, cutting through the lingering ache in his chest. He’s finally going to see his nieces in person, finally hold them instead of watching them grow through blurry FaceTime calls. The thought soothes something inside him, like a balm on a wound he had not realized he carried.
And it’s not only them. It’s Charlotte, too. He’ll get to spend real time with her. Not just the occasional phone call squeezed in between road trips and late-night feedings. For the rest of the season—and, if the hockey gods are on his side, deep into the playoffs—he’ll have family close by. Maybe that’s exactly what he needs. Maybe this trade, painful as it was, came at the perfect time. A fresh start. And people who love him are a short drive away.
They don’t talk much on the drive to the training rink. Charlotte lets him sit in silence, flipping through radio stations until she settles on something soft and easy in the background. He watches the palm trees blur past, tapping his fingers against his knee.
“Thank you for the cleaning service by the way,” Charlotte says, glancing over at him. “That’s been great. Seb and I hardly argue about whose turn it is to vacuum anymore.”
“Oh…yeah. You’re welcome.” Jake had forgotten about the year of service he bought for his sister from a local company before Lucy and Isla were born. “That was, uh, Natalie’s idea.”
Charlotte is quiet as she changes lanes, joining the thrum of San Diego traffic headed for the Ocean Beach Freeway. She glances over at Jake, blue eyes filled with concern.
She clears her throat. Her next words are tentative, careful. “Have you heard from her?”
Jake stares straight ahead, jaw tightening. The answer is obvious in the silence that stretches between them.
Charlotte sighs, adjusting her grip on the wheel. “Jake…”
“She made her choice.” His voice is flat, but the words scrape against his throat like gravel. “Nothing else to say.”
Natalie is gone. He’s here. And no matter how deep the ache runs, hockey is still his. He worked his ass off to get to this moment, and he won’t waste it drowning in what-ifs.
He rolls his shoulders back, forcing a smirk. “So, how’s Seb holding up?”
Charlotte gives him a look but doesn’t push. “Outmatched and outnumbered. Who knew two little babies could make so much poop?”
“I wish I could help out more.”
