No rush to move. No practice until noon. Justthem.
Jacob rolled onto his back so he could see Tane’s face. The older man’s eyes were half-open, dark hair mussed, silver threads at the temples catching the light.
Thirty-eight looked unfairly good on Tane right now—tired, yes, but content in a way Jacob hadn’t seen in weeks. Or maybe evenever.
“It’s nice,” Jacob said quietly. “You know, not waking up hungover.”
Tane’s mouth curved. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. No pounding skull. No dry mouth. No wondering what dumb thing I said at 2 a.m.…” Jacob traced a finger along Tane’s collarbone. ““ could get used to this version of mornings.”
Tane caught his hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed the knuckles.
“Good,” Tane laughed. “Because I like this version of you sober and annoying me in bed instead of singing off-key in the living room.”
Jacob laughed softly. “I only did that once.”
“Twice,” Tane corrected. “You forgot the Bohemian Rhapsody incident.”
Jacob groaned, burying his face against Tane’s chest. “Don’t remind me.”
They settled again, Jacob’s head tucked under Tane’s chin, one leg hooked over Tane’s thigh. The quiet stretched, comfortable and warm, until Jacob spoke again—voice smaller this time.
“As long as we’re together,” Jacob said, “I’m not scared of the Cardini stuff. The meetings, the warnings, the…whatever. I know it’s messy. I know it’s dangerous. But if I’ve got you, I can handle it.”
Tane went still for a heartbeat. Then his hand slid up Jacob’s back, fingers threading into blond hair.
“You don’t have to handle it alone,” Tane murmured. “That’s the point. We’re in this as a team. You and me. All of it.”
Jacob nodded against his chest. “I know.”
They stayed wrapped around each other until the light in the room brightened and the distant hum of traffic reminded them the day was waiting. Jacob pressed a slow kiss to the hollow of Tane’s throat, then pulled back just enough to meet his eyes.
“How’s the shoulder feeling today?”
Tane’s expression shuttered… subtle, but Jacob knew the signs: jaw tightening, gaze sliding to the ceiling, the faint crease between his brows.
“Same,” Tane said. “Manageable.”
Jacob propped himself on one elbow. “Tane…”
Tane exhaled through his nose.
For a long moment he said nothing. Then, quietly…
“I’m scared,” Tane confessed.
The admission hung between them. Raw, and totally unguarded. This was new ground.
“Not just for this season,” Tane continued, staring at the ceiling. “The extension runs two more years after this one. If the surgery doesn’t fix it… if I can’t get the strength back, the rotation, the shot… I’m done being me on the ice. I’d rather walk away clean than limp through as a spare part. A lesser version of the once great player. Nah, that’s not me. I’ve seen guys do it. Watched them chase one more year and end up hating the game they used to love. I don’t want that.”
Jacob’s throat tightened. He reached up, cupped Tane’s jaw, turned his face until their eyes met.
“You won’t,” Jacob said firmly. “You’re too stubborn. Too proud. And you’re too good. When it matters… when the lights are brightest… youalwaysfind a way. I’ve seen it. The whole league has seen it. You’ll come good. I know you will.”
Tane searched his face for a long moment, then gave the smallest nod.
“Yeah?”
