Page 45 of Blocked Shot
“Uh-huh.”
Mila rolls her eyes but doesn’t hide the way she scansthe players, looking for Theo’s number. “Alright, I’m just curious if he remembers me.”
“Because hockey players are known for their sharp memories.” Natalie laughs. Mila and Theo would make an adorable couple, she muses. His steady, soft-spoken nature might be a good balance for her best friend’s fierceness and tendency for drama.
Natalie leads the way down the stairs to their seats. They settle in, the rink stretched out before them, players warming up as music thunders through the arena.
Natalie spots Jesse right away, skating circles with purpose, looking focused. Then, her eyes betray her, searching for someone else. It doesn’t take long to find him. Jake is near the boards, stretching out his shoulders, his expression unreadable.
From the moment the puck drops, it’s clear the Whalers have come to play with fire in their veins. And Jake? He’s a force of nature.
He’s on the ice like a man possessed, chasing down pucks with ruthless precision, throwing his weight into every hit. He battles in the corners, muscling past opponents like they’re nothing more than pylons in his way.
Natalie’s heart thuds as she watches him—shoulders tight, eyes locked in, moving with the kind of intensity that borders on reckless. She’s seen him play before. She’s seen him fired up. But not like this. Notthishard. Not this angry.
“He’s on a mission,” Mila murmurs beside her, echoing Natalie’s exact thoughts.
She nods, gripping the armrest tightly as Jake barrels into an opposing player along the boards. The impact is loud and vicious, rattling the glass and drawing a collective gasp from the crowd before they erupt into cheers.
Natalie doesn’t cheer. Her pulse is spiking for a different reason.
Jake doesn’t stop. If anything, he ramps up—throwing himself into the next shift with the same raw energy. He’s chirping at the other team, jawing at refs, getting tangled up in scrums after every whistle.
Something’s under his skin. And as she watches him skate away from yet another heated exchange, Natalie feels it like a knot in her stomach.
And then it happens.
Jake goes in hard on the forecheck, pressuring a defenseman into the corner. The puck pops loose, but before he can recover, an opposing player levels him from the side. The hit is clean but brutal. Jake’s head snaps back, his body colliding with the glass before he crumples to the ice.
A sickening hush falls over the crowd.
Natalie’s breath catches. Jake isn’t getting up.
“Oh my God,” Mila whispers. “Natalie?—”
But Natalie is already on her feet, heart pounding wildly. Trainers rush onto the ice. Jesse skates over, hovering nearby as the trainer kneels beside Jake. He’s moving now, but slowly. He pushes himself up on all fours clutching his side with his head hanging low. The arena erupts into applause when he is finally helped to his feet by Jesse and a trainer, but Natalie barely registers the sound.
“He looks out of it,” Mila says, gripping Natalie’s arm. “That was a bad hit.”
Natalie doesn’t respond. Her heart hammers against her ribs, wild and uneven, a frantic drumbeat echoing in her ears. The world narrows to a blur as she watches Jesse and the trainer guide Jake off the ice. He’s hunched over, barely able to keep himself upright.
He doesn’t argue with the trainers when they usher him down the tunnel, which is what rattles her the most.
“I have to go,” Natalie blurts, already reaching for her coat. “Are you okay to Uber home?”
Mila turns to her, wide-eyed. “Yes. Go—just go.”
Natalie doesn’t wait. She’s moving, shoving through the crowd, barely hearing the murmurs around her. The cold hits her like a slap as she bursts out into the night, snowflakes dancing around her.
She doesn’t hesitate.
She follows the flashing lights of the ambulance.
Because wherever they’re taking him, that’s where she needs to be.
CHAPTER 22
JAKE
