Chapter 28
Jacob
A week had passed since the situation in the alley behind the restaurant.
Jacob felt safe with Tane, and knowing too that the Cardini family were handling things.
And just as Tane had said, the pair of them were straight back into training with the rest of the squad.
Jacob even managed to have a joke about it all with the senior players like Conor and Alex, both of whom had plenty of their own experiences when it came to this kind of thing.
The Cardini family had handled the fallout: no headlines, no police interviews, no lingering questions from the league.
They were masters of their world, that much was clear to Jacob.
Tane even told Jacob a few more stories from his time with the Cardini family over the years.
There were some wild moments, that was for sure.
But Jacob was increasingly finding himself normalized to it all.
That said, adrenaline high Jacob had ridden that night had burned out fast. By day three the excitement had developed into something quieter: gratitude, mostly, mixed with a bone-deep awareness that the world outside the rink was bigger and uglier than he’d ever let himself think about.
He still woke up sometimes with the echo of those shots in his ears, but the thrill was gone. What remained was clarity.
Jacob and Tane were back in the apartment now, the safe-house stint over. Morning light slanted through the kitchen windows, catching on the granite counters and the two steaming mugs of coffee between them.
Jacob sat at the island in sweatpants and one of Tane’s old Enforcers hoodies, too big across the shoulders. Tane stood at the stove, flipping protein pancakes with the same steady focus he brought to face-offs.
Jacob poked at his plate with a fork. “These smell amazing.”
“They’ll taste better if you actually eat them instead of staring at them,” Tane said without looking up. “We need to make sure our nutrition is on point. Nothing can be left to chance. Not now we’re so close.”
Jacob smiled and took a bite. Warm and sweet, the faint vanilla hit just right. He chewed slowly, watching Tane move around the kitchen like it was the most normal thing in the world. Jacob didn’t want to say it out loud, but they truly were a couple now. it just felt so perfectly normal.
After a minute he set the fork down.
“I’ve been thinking about that night,” Jacob said.
Tane turned off the burner, plated the last pancake, and slid it onto Jacob’s stack before sitting across from him. “Yeah?”
Jacob nodded. “I can’t lie. It really was exciting. On some level. The rush, the chaos, you charging in like that… it felt like something out of a movie. But that high? It’s gone now. And I don’t want it back. Not like that.”
Tane took a slow sip of coffee, eyes steady on Jacob’s face.
“I want to focus,” Jacob continued. “On the ice. On winning. On us. Not on… whatever shadow games are going on out there. I don’t want to be the guy who gets off on the danger. I want to be the guy who scores the Cup-winner and then comes home to you.”
Tane set his mug down.
The corner of his mouth lifted—just a fraction, but enough.
“I’m with you,” Tane said. “All the way. From now until the final buzzer, we keep our heads down. No unnecessary outings. No parties. No solo walks. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you out of the limelight.
A security detail if Antonio insists, private entrances, whatever. You’re not going through that again.”
Jacob exhaled, shoulders loosening. “Thanks.”
Tane reached across the island, palm up. Jacob placed his hand in it; their fingers laced together.
“There’s something else,” Jacob said quietly.
Tane waited.
“When I was a kid… twelve, maybe thirteen… I used to watch your games on TV every chance I got. You were my guy. The way you played… smart, tough, never flashy for the sake of it. You made it look like hockey was about heart more than talent. I wanted to be like that. I still do.”
Tane’s thumb brushed over Jacob’s knuckles. “You already are. Fuck. You’re more skillful than I ever was already.”
Jacob shook his head. “Hey, no way. Not yet. But I will be. And that means I’m following your lead on this. Whatever you say. Where I go, who I talk to, how low-key we stay… I’m in. No arguments. No sass. Just trust.”
Tane studied him for a long moment. Then he squeezed Jacob’s hand once.
“I’ll guide you,” he said. “I’ll keep you safe, keep us both safe. But it has to come from you in the end. You decide what kind of player you want to be, what kind of man. I’ll back you either way. Always.”
Jacob’s throat tightened. He nodded.
They sat like that for another minute—hands linked across the island, pancakes cooling, coffee going cold—until Jacob finally cracked a small grin.
“Deal.”
Tane released his hand, stood, and offered a fist across the counter.
Jacob bumped it with his own. It was firm, solid, the same way they tapped gloves before a shift on the ice. Jacob truly wanted to grow and develop a career he could be proud of. And in Tane, he had the perfect man to do it with.
“Training in thirty,” Tane said. “Gosling skate. Film. Then home. No detours.”
Jacob pushed back from the island. “Yes, sir.”
Tane rolled his eyes, but the fondness in them was unmistakable.
They cleared the plates together in a quick, efficient, domestic in a way that still felt new and precious. Jacob rinsed while Tane loaded the dishwasher. When the kitchen was tidy, they moved to the bedroom to change into training gear.
Jacob pulled on his compression shirt, wincing slightly at the lingering tenderness in his ribs. Tane noticed and stepped behind him, hands gentle on Jacob’s sides.
“Still sore?”
“A little. Nothing bad.”
Tane pressed a kiss to the back of Jacob’s neck. “Tell me if it flares. No hero bullshit today.”
Jacob turned in his arms. “Promise.”
They kissed… slow, unhurried, tasting of coffee and morning quiet. When they broke apart, Jacob rested his forehead against Tane’s.
“We’re gonna win this thing,” Jacob said.
Tane’s hand came up to cup the back of Jacob’s neck. “Yeah. We are.”
They finished dressing in comfortable silence—socks, skates in bags, hoodies zipped against the February chill outside. Jacob grabbed his stick from the hall closet while Tane slung both gym bags over his good shoulder.
At the door, Tane paused with his hand on the knob.
“Ready?” Tane asked.
Jacob bumped his fist against Tane’s shoulder—light, playful.
“Born ready,” Jacob replied, his golden smile lighting up the moment between them.
Tane opened the door and they stepped out into the hallway together, side by side, the elevator waiting at the end of the corridor.
United, Jacob and Tane were on the cusp of making Toronto Enforcers history together.
But this was professional hockey, and things rarely ran smooth…
* * *
The living room clock glowed 11:47 p.m., casting a faint blue hue over the coffee table cluttered with empty water bottles and Jacob’s half-eaten protein bar.
The TV screen flickered with the chaotic glow of Super Smash Bros., controllers clicking furiously under Jacob’s thumbs. His character—a speedy fox with laser eyes—darted across the battlefield, dodging fireballs and landing combo after combo.
Victory after victory came to Jacob, his hand-eye coordination as on point as ever. But the high-score rush couldn’t quite drown out the electric buzz still humming under his skin from the morning’s practice session.
Anticipation and adrenaline didn’t fade easy.
Footsteps padded softly from the hallway.
Jacob glanced up just as Tane emerged from the bedroom, wearing nothing but loose gray sleep pants that hung low on his hips.
His hair was tousled, chest bare, the faint outline of his abs shadowed in the low light.
Even post-thirty-eight, post-injury, the man looked like he could bench-press an SUV.
“Bed, Jacob,” Tane said, voice low and no-nonsense, arms crossing over his broad chest. “Now.”
Jacob paused the game, tossing the controller onto the couch with a dramatic sigh.
“I know, I know. But I won’t sleep. I’m too wired.
That skate today? Something felt off. Technically I was fine but the plays just didn’t connect like they should.
I could sense Tremaine losing his shit with me.
It’s a lot. I don’t want to duck everything up for the team. ”
Tane’s expression didn’t budge—stern captain mode fully engaged. “You won’t. That’s your mind playing tricks on you. You did great. Now… bed. That’s an order, boy.”
Jacob pouted, but there was no real fight in it. He powered down the Switch dock, the screen going dark. “Fine. But you’re the worst.”
Tane’s mouth twitched.
“Fine,” Tane grumbled. “A special treat tonight. Bring the Switch. You can have a quick go in bed while I finish my chapter.”
Jacob’s eyes lit up. “For real? How about we say twenty minutes?”
Tane nodded once. “Don’t push it.”
Jacob scooped up the console and controllers, trailing Tane back to the bedroom like an eager puppy.
The king bed was already turned down on Jacob’s side, sheets crisp and inviting.
Tane slid under the covers first, propping pillows behind his back and cracking open his worn paperback—a thriller about mob hits and double-crosses that Jacob had eyed suspiciously more than once.
Jacob stripped down to his briefs, flicked off the overhead light, and climbed in beside him.
The mattress dipped under his weight as he wriggled closer until his back pressed against Tane’s solid warmth.
Tane’s good arm draped over Jacob’s waist, pulling him in snug, chest to back, legs tangling just so.
Perfection.
Jacob booted up the Switch, the screen’s glow soft in the dark room. He loaded a quick round of Animal Crossing this time: nothing too intense, just watering flowers and paying off his virtual mortgage. The familiar chimes and pixel art soothed the edges of his buzz, but his mind wandered anyway.
Tane was seventeen years older. Seventeen.
When Tane had been drafted, Jacob was still in diapers.
When Tane lifted his first MVP, Jacob was learning to skate on a frozen pond in his backyard.
The age gap should have been weird… and Jacob knew that people whispered about it in rival locker-rooms and probably even in their own locker room too. But lying there, Tane’s steady heartbeat thumping against his spine, the weight of that arm holding him secure… it wasn’t weird. It was right.
Tane got him—saw through the cocky rookie flash to the boy who needed structure, needed care.
And Jacob? He kept Tane young, kept him fighting, kept the fire lit in those soulful brown eyes.
It just worked.
Jacob smiled as he moved his character around its own little world. The virtual flowers were watered. The mortgage ticked down a few bells. Jacob felt his eyelids grow heavy, the controller loosening in his grip.
He turned off the Switch with a soft click, setting it on the nightstand.
The room plunged into true darkness, broken only slightly by the glow on Tane’s small reading light.
Tane’s voice rumbled against his ear, deep, content. “Good boy.”
Jacob smiled into the pillow, nestling deeper into the crook of Tane’s body.
Warmth spread through him. Not just from the blankets or the man spooning him, but from somewhere softer, fuzzier inside.
He felt safe. The kind of peace that let the world’s chaos…
the Cardini family, the playoffs, injury and performance worries… fade to static.
With this in his life, Jacob could achieve anything.
Cup? Check.
Legacy? Building it.
Tane’s heart? Already his.
Jacob drifted off, dreaming of red lights flashing and banners raised high.