This is the bar where he met Natalie.
He remembers everything. How she crossed her legs at the bar, nose in a book, the way she smiled at him before she knew who he was.
He grits his teeth and heads inside.
The inside of the bar reeks of spilled beer and fried food. The noise is constant—clinking glasses, overlapping conversations—but Jake blocks it all out the second he sees Jesse slumped over the bar.
He’s hunched forward, elbows planted like he’s holding himself up. A half-empty glass sits in front of him, forgotten. His hoodie’s bunched at the back, and his head hangs low, eyes glazed. He looks less like a hockey player and more like a kid who’s completely lost the plot—too young to carry this much, too drunk to hide it. Just wrecked.
Carter whistles under his breath. “Well, shit.”
They approach slowly, cautiously.
Jesse lifts his head as they near. His eyes are bloodshot and rimmed in red. And the second they meet Jake’s, they harden.
“The fuck are you doing here?” Jesse growls, voice slurred but full of venom.
Jake breathes through his nose. “Come on, man. Let’s get you home.”
Jesse laughs, bitter and sharp.
“With you?” His lip curls. “I’d rather rot in this fucking bar.”
Theo steps forward, voice gentle. “Hey, bud. You shouldn’t be here alone.”
Something shifts in Jesse’s expression. A flicker of the vulnerable kid Jake was meant to be looking out for.
For a second, Jake thinks maybe—maybe—he’ll agree. But then Jesse scoffs and pushes himself off the stool, unsteady but determined.
“I can take care of myself,” he snaps.
“You’re buckled,” Jake spits out, harsher than he means to.
Jesse flinches, rage blooming instantly.
“Fuck off,” he snarls. “You don’t get to act like you give a shit. You don’t get to stand there and pretend like you’re worried about me, not after what you did.”
Jake exhales sharply, his jaw clenching as he rakes a hand through his hair. Every instinct in him roars to take control, to shove Jesse against the wall, and drag him out by force if he has to. But he grits his teeth, knowing Jesse will only dig in deeper if he pushes. His fists flex at his sides, restraining the urge to grab him.
Instead, he turns to Theo. His voice is tight, clipped. “Get him out of here.”
Theo nods once and steps in again, this time with more purpose. He speaks low, steady, a hand at Jesse’s elbow.
Carter hangs back, for once saying nothing.
Jake watches Jesse sway on his feet, swiping Theo’s hand away like he’s fine, like he’s got this.
It’s pathetic.
It’s heartbreaking.
Jake swallows the lump in his throat and follows them outside, the cold night air slamming into him.
He wants to scream.
Instead, he clenches his jaw, fists in his coat pockets, watching his teammate stumble across the gravel lot, supported by Theo.
“Unbelievable,” he mutters under his breath.
