Chapter 136 A LITTLE CLOSER

Chapter 136 A LITTLE CLOSER
The room was still gray when Luca woke.

Jack was already up, moving quietly near the desk, the soft sound of a drawer sliding open and closed the only noise.

Luca sat up slowly, rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and reached for his bag without speaking. He dug through it once.

Then again. The zipper stuck halfway. He yanked harder, muttering under his breath when it refused to move.

Jack watched from the corner of his eye but stayed where he was, hands busy with his own gear.

Luca kept searching, growing more frustrated by the second. Jack hesitated, thumb resting against the edge of the desk.

Then: “Did you lose something?”

“My tape.”

Jack pointed toward the left drawer. “In there.”

Luca opened it. The roll sat neatly on top of a few loose papers. He paused, fingers resting on the edge of the wood.

“You put it there?”

Jack shrugged, eyes on his skates. “You left it on the floor yesterday. Figured you’d look there first.”

Luca took it. “Thanks.”

Jack simply nodded. No smile. No extra comment. He went back to tightening his own laces.

Luca pulled on his jacket. The zipper caught halfway up and stayed crooked, one side higher than the other.

Jack’s hand lifted halfway toward him before he caught himself and dropped it. Instead he said quietly:

“Your zipper.”

Luca looked down. “Oh.” He fixed it himself, tugging the tab until it closed properly. Jack looked away and finished tying his skates in silence.

They left the room together because there was nowhere else to go.

The hallway was cool and quiet, the early light still thin through the windows. Their footsteps matched for a few steps, then fell slightly out of rhythm. The space between them was careful—not wide enough to look like strangers, not close enough to look like anything else. Jack kept thinking of things to say and discarding every one of them. 'I miss you' felt selfish. 'Can we try again' felt too soon.' I want you back' felt like pressure he had no right to apply.

So he said something ordinary instead.

“Your shoulder okay?”

Luca glanced at him sideways. “Yeah.”

“You should tell Coach if it starts hurting again.”

“I will.”

Jack nodded. A few more steps in silence. Then: “Don’t push it today. The ice is harder after the overnight freeze.”

Luca gave him a longer look. “Are you my coach now?”

Jack almost smiled. The corner of his mouth twitched and then settled. “No.”

“Good.”

“I’m just saying.”

“I heard you.”

Luca did not walk faster to get away from him.

They reached the end of the hallway still side by side.

Coach called them into the film room after warm-ups.

The lights went down. The projector hummed steadily. Yesterday’s footage flickered onto the screen in pale blue light, bodies moving in slow, clinical sequences.

Coach paused the recording repeatedly, freezing players mid-stride, drawing tight circles with a laser pointer around positioning, timing, gaps that should never have been there.

The room smelled of old carpet and the faint metallic tang of cold still clinging to their clothes.

He froze the screen with Jack and Luca on opposite sides of the rink.

“Carter.”

Jack looked up. “Yes, Coach?”

“What did you see here?”

Jack studied the frozen frame carefully. “Luca had the better angle. Clearer lane to the net.”

Coach nodded once. “And what did you do?”

“I took the shot anyway.”

“Why?”

Jack hesitated. The silence in the room stretched. “Because I thought I could make it.”

A few soft chuckles moved through the seats. Coach’s expression did not change.

“That’s arrogance.”

Jack nodded once, accepting it. “Yes, Coach.”

Coach rewound a few frames. “You had a better option. You ignored it.” He turned toward Luca. “And you?”

Luca kept his eyes on the screen. “I should’ve called for the pass. Louder. Earlier.”

“Exactly. Communication. Hockey doesn’t care about your personal problems.”

The room went quieter. Jack glanced at Luca. Luca kept watching the screen, jaw tight.

Coach continued, voice even but firm. “Whatever is happening off the ice—when you’re on it, you trust the player beside you. Or you lose. Simple as that.”

Jack looked at Luca again. Luca did not look back. The laser pointer clicked off. The footage resumed.

After the film session the hallway filled with the usual noise of bags zipping and overlapping voices.

Luca turned suddenly toward the restroom without announcing it. Jack moved in the same direction without thinking.

They rounded the corner at the exact same time and walked straight into each other.

“Ow.”

Jack stepped back immediately, hands up. “Sorry.”

Luca rubbed his shoulder, wincing. “You always stand in the middle of places like that?”

“You walked into me.”

“You were coming toward me.”

“Because I’m going to the toilet.”

Luca blinked. “So am I.”

They stared at each other for a beat. The hallway noise continued around them. Jack gestured toward the open doorway.

“You go.”

Luca shook his head, then walked past him without another word. Jack followed a few steps behind, still rubbing the back of his own neck where they had collided.

“So we’re both going?”

“Apparently.”

For the first time in days, Luca’s mouth twitched. Not quite a smile. But almost. Jack noticed. He kept his eyes forward and did not comment.

Luca headed to the cafeteria first. Jack followed a few minutes later, deliberately keeping distance.

He saw Luca carrying his tray near the drink station; one of the cups tilted and nearly slipped off the edge.

Jack reached out and caught it before it fell, steadying the tray with his other hand.

“Got it.”

Luca looked at him, expression flat. “I had it.”

“I know.” Jack set the cup carefully back in place. “I still caught it.”

Luca rolled his eyes, but he did not pull the tray away. They walked the rest of the way to the table in silence.

Sam, Jay, and Noah were already sitting. Sam looked between the two of them as they sat and slowly grinned.

“Look who arrived together.”

Luca set his tray down harder than necessary. “We didn’t.”

Jack took the empty seat across from him. “We walked here.”

Sam pointed between them with his fork. “Exactly. Together.”

Luca nudged Sam’s leg under the table. “Eat your food.”

Sam looked offended. “Violence. In front of witnesses. Jay, you saw that.”

Jay laughed under his breath. Noah hid his smile behind his cup. Jack actually laughed too—short, quiet, real. The sound surprised even him.

Luca looked at him. Their eyes met for a second longer than necessary. Then Luca lowered his gaze to his plate and stabbed at his eggs.

The cafeteria doors opened. Kian walked in, scanned the room, and raised a hand when he saw Luca.

“Luca.”

Luca looked up. Kian gestured toward the exit.

“Come here for a second.”

Sam immediately groaned. “Why?”

Kian looked at him. “Did I invite you?”

“No.”

“Then stay seated.”

Sam put a hand over his chest. “That was unnecessarily cruel. I’m wounded.”

Kian turned back to Luca, ignoring him. “I need to show you something.”

Luca finished the last bite of his food, wiped his mouth, and stood. “What?”

“Senior rink. Quick adjustment.”

Jack’s hand tightened around his fork. He said nothing. Luca glanced at him once, then followed Kian.

The doors closed behind them. Jack watched until the last glimpse of Luca’s jacket disappeared.

Sam noticed. He leaned closer, voice lower.

“You’re doing that thing again.”

Jack looked at him. “What thing?”

Sam imitated an intense, locked stare at the door. “The jealous boyfriend thing.”

Jack’s face hardened. He spoke quietly. “I’m not his boyfriend anymore.”

Sam paused, studying him. “That’s actually worse.”

Jack did not answer. Sam’s expression shifted from teasing to something more serious.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t let someone else take what’s mine.”

Jack looked at him. “He’s not mine.”

Sam pointed toward the closed doors. “Then why are you staring at the door like you’re waiting for your wife to come home?”

Jack exhaled slowly. “I don’t have the right.”

“Correct.” Sam leaned back a fraction. “But not having the right doesn’t mean you don’t feel it.”

Jack kept his eyes on the doors. “I don’t want to become that guy again.”

“What guy?”

“The guy who thinks loving someone means owning them.”

Sam went quiet for a second. Then he said, quieter still: “Then don’t own him. Just be someone worth choosing.”

That landed. Jack nodded once, slowly.

Sam stood and grabbed his tray. “Come on.”

“Where?”

“We’re going to the senior rink.”

Jack looked at him. “Why?”

Sam held out a hand as if offering help up. “Let’s go get your lover before someone else teaches him better form.”

Jack stared at the hand. “You’re insane.”

“Probably. But you’re still standing up.”

Jack got up anyway.

At the senior rink the air was colder, the ice cleaner and brighter under the lights. The smell of fresh ice and the low hum of the cooling system filled the space.

Luca and Kian were already on it. Kian stood behind Luca, hands lightly adjusting the angle of his shoulder, voice calm and instructional.

“Relax.”

“I am relaxed.”

“You’re not. Your whole right side is locked.”

“I am.”

“You’re holding your entire body like you’re waiting for someone to punch you.”

Luca rolled his eyes but adjusted slightly. “Just tell me what I’m doing wrong.”

Kian laughed under his breath. “You’re impatient. Again.”

Luca pushed the puck. Wrong angle. It went wide and hit the boards with a sharp crack. Kian shook his head.

“Again. Keep the shoulder closed longer.”

Jack and Sam stepped onto the ice. Jack stopped the moment he saw Kian’s hands on Luca’s shoulders. His entire body went still. Sam immediately grabbed his arm above the elbow.

“No.”

Jack looked at him. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Your face did. Don’t make me drag you back out.”

They watched in silence. Luca tried the movement again. The shoulder opened early. The puck went wide once more. Kian sighed.

“You’re still opening too early.”

Luca groaned, frustrated. “I’ve been trying for ten minutes.”

“I know. That’s why we’re still here.”

Jack finally stepped forward. Sam followed close behind. Kian looked over, expression neutral.

“What are you two doing here?”

Sam smiled, all teeth. “We’re here to learn. Free education.”

Kian folded his arms. “I’m not your coach.”

Sam pointed at him. “Good. Because you’re terrible at customer service.”

Kian stared. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet you keep talking to me.”

Kian sighed, long and defeated. “Fine. Join if you’re going to stand there staring.”

Jack stepped onto the clearer ice. Luca watched him approach. Jack did not move in right away.

He stood a few feet back and watched Luca attempt the movement once more.

The shoulder opened. The puck went wide again, skittering across the blue line.

Jack finally spoke, voice even. “Your left shoulder.”

Luca looked at him. “I know.”

“You’re still opening it before the weight shifts.”

Luca paused, stick resting against the ice. Jack moved closer slowly, stopping an arm’s length away.

“Can I?”

Luca hesitated. That hesitation mattered it lasted long enough for Jack to feel it. Then:

“Okay.”

Jack carefully adjusted Luca’s shoulder—one hand, brief, professional, fingers light against the fabric of the jersey. “Keep it here. Don’t open until the blade is already committed.”

Luca nodded. Jack stepped back immediately. Luca pushed off, weight shifting correctly this time, and shot.

The puck hit the net cleanly with a solid 'thunk'. Sam threw his hands up.

“See? Magic.”

Kian looked at him sideways. Sam grinned wider. “Power of love.”

Kian groaned. “You’re so annoying.”

Sam pointed at himself with both thumbs. “But cute.”

Kian stared at him for a full second. Then he sighed, almost reluctantly. “Yeah.”

Sam’s smile disappeared. Kian added, almost casually, as he turned away:

“You are cute.”

Sam blinked. Kian skated off without looking back.

“When you stop arguing so much.”

Sam just stood there in the middle of the ice, stick forgotten in his hands. Jack looked at him. “What?”

Sam’s voice was quiet, almost dazed. “He called me cute.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “I heard.”

Sam looked toward where Kian had disappeared. His expression had completely changed surprise first, then something softer and more unsettled. “He called me cute.”

Jack shook his head. “You said that already.”

“I’m processing.”

Luca watched them from a few feet away, then looked down at the ice, hiding a small, unwilling smile.

“Did he just…”

“Yep.”

Sam stared after Kian for another long second, still not moving.

“I’m going to kill him.”

Jack glanced at Luca. Luca met his eyes for half a second before looking away again. The distance between them was still there. But for the first time in days, it did not feel quite as sharp.