The season’s officially underway, and she’s back inHartford for his first home game tomorrow night. She should be focused on that—on how proud she is, how excited she is to see him on the ice as a pro.
And sheis.
But there’s a small, traitorous part of her brain that’s not thinking about Jesse at all.
It’s thinking about Jake, and how completely, irrationally nervous she is to run into him. Not that she’s planning to. But still.
She’s not going to let it shake her, though. No sir. She’s made a decision: keep it light, keep it professional. She’s here for Jesse. Whatever happened—or didn’t happen—between her and Jake is ancient history. Done. Closed tab. Cleared browser.
And absolutely no reason for Jesse to know any of it.
She’s just about to slide the key into the lock when the door flies open and Jesse grins at her like a Labrador who’s just spotted his favorite person.
“Took you long enough!” he says.
Natalie rolls her eyes and pulls him into a tight hug. “I drove six hours for you, brat. You better be grateful.”
“Super grateful,” he says, laughing as he lets her inside. “I missed you.”
Natalie smiles, glancing around the apartment. It looks the same as when she left here weeks ago. A little grubbier, perhaps. His PlayStation is still smack in the middle of the living room floor, cords and controllers tangled around it like some kind of tech spaghetti. Soda cans and half-drunk water bottles are scattered on every surface, and there’s a small mountain of shoes piled by the door. She makes a mental note to order him a shoe rack.
“How’s everything?”
“Good. Settling in. Getting used to the schedule. We take the busa lot.” he says, stretching, “but I’m loving it.”
She gives him a knowing look. “No more late-night run-ins with the police, I hope?”
Jesse groans. “You’re never gonna let that go, are you?”
“Not anytime soon.”
He sighs dramatically, flopping onto the couch. “I swear, I’mbehaving. And besides, we’ve been too busy to cause trouble. This is my first day off since the season started.”
“Good,” she says. “I’m glad you’re doing well. And I’m excited for the game tomorrow.”
“Same,” Jesse says. “Though I wish I was playing better.”
The words are casual, but Natalie doesn’t miss the way his shoulders sag just slightly, or how he suddenly can’t quite meet her eyes. She resists the urge to launch into full-on big sister pep talk mode.
Instead, she places a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “It’ll come Jesse. It always does.”
“I know, I know,” he says, running a hand through his messy curls. “I just… I want to prove I belong here. I don’t want to just be ‘fine.’”
Jesse and the Whalers are off to a mediocre start this season. They’ve managed one win, but they’ve lost two games in a row, and the team is struggling to find its rhythm. Jesse’s playing fine. He’s solid, and doing what he needs to do, but he hasn’t scored yet. Natalie knows it’s eating at him. Jesse has always been like this. He pushes himself, never satisfied with just okay. He’s itching to get that first goal under his belt. Natalie hopes he gets it soon because when Jesse overthinks things, his game suffers.
“You belong here. And trust me, your first goal is coming. Probably tomorrow.”
He grins. “You think?”
“I know. And when it happens, I’m going to scream so loud, you’ll hear me from the ice.”
Jesse laughs. “Looking forward to it. Oh, and I invited some guys over for dinner. That cool?”
Natalie blinks. “Some of the guys?”
“Yeah, a couple of the rookies I’ve been hanging out with, Tristan and Pavel. Figured it’d be good to have a chill night before the game. Plus they’re jealous of all my home cooked meals.”
She hesitates, but nods. “Yeah. That’s fine.”
