Page 5 of Home for the Holidays

“Moved out here a few years ago. They decided to keep me,” Jake says, running a hand over his short hair.

“They?”

“The Grizzlies,” he coughs.

I blink. “You’re still playing hockey?”

Guarded, he nods.

“You’re playing hockey for the Grizzlies?” My voice goes up in pitch.

Jake chews the inside of his lip as he nods again.

“Fuck, that’s awesome!” I reach for him, then pause. “That’s really fantastic, Jake. I know how much hockey always meant to you.”

He clears his throat. “You didn’t know? I thought my mother told everyone back at temple.”

“My mom probably told me in the middle of an epic kvetching session,” I try to play it off. “I’m not really involved in the gossip train.”

His weak smile tells me I’m not successful.

“What do you need a roommate for? If you’re playing for the Grizzlies, you can probably afford to live alone.”

Shit. I probably wasn’t supposed to say that.

“I prefer to have someone else in the apartment, especially with how often I travel,” Jake says casually.

“Oh. Right.” I forgot about that. He’s probably on the road all the time. Good. That means I won’t have to see too much of him.

“Besides, you need a place to stay,” he continues. “It’s not like I could tell you to kick rocks when I have a perfectly functional spare room.”

“I mean, you could.”

Jake shrugs. “Yeah, but I won’t.”

“Why aren’t you?” I turn it back to him.

“Because I won’t,” he says, like it’s that simple.

And maybe, for him, it is.

He clears his throat again. “Let me show you the place.”

The living room is understated, simple black and white with a dark blue accent wall. His furniture is similarly simple, too, a leather sectional and armchair center by a glass coffee table. Through the open living room, I can see a stark, clean, black and white kitchen with stools at the marble countertop.

“This is the living area,” Jake says, waving at the space. A giant TV is mounted on the blue accent wall. “I have all the streaming channels plus cable, whatever you need.”

My eyebrows go up. “You have cable?” I didn’t think anyone under the age of 40 had cable anymore.

He shrugs. “I like it. Plus with all the blackouts, I can’t watch half the college football games if I don’t have cable.”

“You’re still a Michigan fan?” I tease.

He was too young to do the recruitment thing when I knew him, but even back then, his eyes had been on the Maize and Blue and the NHL, knowing college hockey would get him to the big leagues.

And it did. Clearly, it paid off for him.

“Yeah. Go Blue,” Jake says without a hint of sarcasm. “Took my squad to the Frozen Four two years running.”