Page 7 of Find Me Again (KRK Security #3)

Then, over a year later

Neil stared at the phone, the busy signal still beeping after they'd disconnected a minute ago.

Andrew Phillips.

Somebody had shown Andrew Phillips Neil's tapes, and he wanted to arrange a meeting if Neil was interested.

If .

As if there was anything that could stop him from going to see the head coach of one of the best college hockey teams in the country.

Neil hadn't even thought about Chicago before, hadn't considered it a viable option. He'd learned to hedge his bets, even though Ryan had repeatedly told him he'd underplayed himself too much. Neil could already hear him—

Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit .

Ryan had applied to a bunch of schools that were considering Neil, but none of them was in Chicago or even anywhere close. Shit .

Clutching his phone, Neil dropped back onto the bed.

It was only a meeting, nothing final. He could go there, talk to the guy— Andrew! Freaking! Phillips!— and check out the place. That was it. He wasn't making any decisions yet, or anything.

He and Ryan were going to decide together, as they'd agreed on a long time ago. Neil was simply considering all the options.

His phone pinged in his hand with a new text.

Ready for tonight? ;)

Neil bit his lower lip, doubt creeping in fast. With the rest of Ryan's family away for the weekend, Neil was supposed to go over there for a sleepover, and he'd been looking forward to it the whole week. It had been a while since they'd had so much uninterrupted time to themselves, and Neil had more than a few ideas of what they could use it for.

Still, if he went there tonight, there was no way Ryan wouldn't notice something was up, and if Neil spilled, they would most likely end up fighting instead of having sex and the whole night would be ruined anyway.

I can't tonight :( he finally texted. Headache from hell since noon. :(

He got a string of sad faces in reply, followed by a heart emoji.

Sucks. :( Lmk if anything changes, but get some rest in the meantime.

I'm prob going to go to bed early , Neil wrote back, and it felt like he'd jinxed himself when a shot of pain pulsed through his head as he hit send.

He closed his eyes and put his knuckles against the side of his forehead, hoping to relieve some of the tension. To distract himself, he focused on the trip to Chicago, and he drifted off after a while to the mental pictures of Andrew Phillips personally giving him a tour of the place and introducing him to the players.

* * *

The reality, as always, had been different, but not by much. He was going to talk to Coach Phillips later on, but for now, it was one of the associate coaches, Coach Pine, who was showing Neil the place.

And it was huge .

The sports center on this campus seemed twice as big as the one he and his parents had gone to see in Boston. He was trying not to gape like a fish, but this whole thing felt more like a commercial instead of real life.

At least until they were passing the locker room and Neil heard some shouts and hoots, and then—

"Get off, what are you, a fag?"

"Shut your mouth, you asshole."

There was more laughter later on, but Neil still tensed and glanced at the man next to him.

"Boys will be boys, huh?" Coach Pine said with a twist of his mouth Neil couldn't tell was a grimace or a concealed smirk. "Don't worry, we don't allow freshman hazing here or anything like that."

He did put his head in—hopefully to check if there really wasn't anything worse going on—but didn't say anything more, and Neil could almost hear Ryan's voice in his head, commenting on there being no hazing unless someone was gay, apparently.

It was only a throwaway comment, though. He'd heard plenty already in their high school locker room, it wasn't all that different.

What was different and what made Neil forget the stupid shit talk, was the conversation he had with Coach Phillips. The man was larger than life and just seeing him sitting behind the desk made Neil straighten his back.

He wanted to make the best impression.

Now that he'd gotten here, he needed this to go well.

"Listen," Coach Phillips said, leaning in, after he'd asked a few questions about the trip and Neil's impression of the campus. "I could give you the spiel and the 'here's what we can do for you' speech a mile-long, but I don't want to waste your time or mine. This school and this team is a big challenge, no question about it. I've seen you play, though, and I think you can meet this challenge. You wouldn't be sitting here if I thought any different. But only you can decide whether you believe you're up to the task or not. Whether you believe you have what it takes to be here." He paused and raised his eyebrows. "Do you?"

Neil's heart hammered in his chest.

It all came down to him, now.

So, was he ready for it?

Was he willing to give his all to the impossible dream?

* * *

The silence in Ryan's truck was pressing on Neil, but he couldn't think of anything to say, so he stared out the window at the familiar sights of the road they'd taken hundreds, if not thousands of times before.

Chicago had been a maze, but he'd been excited to explore it. Meanwhile this, here, felt like a shoe that had been too worn out to stay on his foot for much longer. The same streets, the same buildings, the same road… Everything was always the same.

The only part that was right about any of this was having Ryan by his side, but even that was hard today. Why wasn't Ryan saying anything? They hadn't seen each other for a few days, so there should be plenty to catch up on. They'd exchanged texts, of course, but since Neil had to carefully word every one of his, it kind of sucked. He wasn't doing much better in person, either, but he'd hoped Ryan would fill in the gaps and Neil would be able to get lost in it for a bit before…

Well. Before talking to Ryan about Chicago.

Somehow.

He wished he could turn on the radio, at least, but Ryan hadn't gotten around to fixing it yet, which might have been exasperating at any other time, but now Neil had to hold back an irritated huff. Seriously, how hard could it be to get the damn thing fixed?

He rubbed his eyes. Maybe he was more tired from the trip than he'd thought.

Finally, Ryan parked at their spot, the back of the truck positioned so they'd had the perfect view as they lounged there. Hours upon hours they'd spent like that—talking, making out, having sex, and talking some more, with a few beers here and there. Ryan had once said that this was the spot where they'd figured themselves out, over and over, and maybe he'd had a point. It sounded profound to Neil back then, but now it felt more like a weight on his shoulders. An expectation of sorts.

Following Ryan to the back of the truck, where they hopped on to sit, still felt like the most natural thing, though.

It took barely two seconds for Ryan to speak out.

"I bumped into your uncle at the gas station the other night," he said slowly.

The dread sneaked down Neil's back. He knows already .

Ryan nodded as if Neil had said it out loud.

"'Never saw that coming, I tell ya. Our Neil heading to Chicago on a college dime.'" The impression wasn't bad, even if far from Ryan's best. Then he dropped the act. "I thought he was mixing something up, but he was utterly convinced, so… What the fuck, Neil?"

He swallowed. This was it. He'd know it was coming, now he just needed to say it. Get it out in the open.

"Couch Phillips called and invited me." He rubbed his hands over his thighs. "To check out if I might be interested."

"And you went."

It was a statement, not a question. Still, Neil nodded.

"Why?"

Neil snorted. What kind of a question was that?

"Are you serious? How could I not go?"

"Chicago wasn't even on your list," Ryan pointed out. "I mean, I get it, it must have been cool to get a call—"

"Yes, it's freaking 'cool' when one of the best coaches in college hockey calls you!"

"But why didn't you tell me? What the hell?" Ryan grimaced and shook his head, as if Neil was a ten-year-old who disappointed him by not studying for a test or something. "Why didn't you talk to me about it and—"

"It wasn't your decision to make!" Neil erupted, suddenly no longer tired but angry instead, desperately searching for a way out. He didn't want to have this conversation or make any plans other than leaving this town behind and playing hockey somewhere where his dreams could come true.

Ryan reared back, leaning away from Neil so much he almost dropped his balance.

"It wasn't my decision, but we talked about—"

"You wanted this!" Neil jumped out of the back of the truck and faced Ryan. "You wanted to plan this whole thing out, as if we could predict everything! We couldn't! I didn't expect this, sure, but I'd be damned if I said no to this offer because you don't like it."

"It's true, then." Ryan curled his hands on the edge of the truck and lifted his chin. "You've already decided."

Yes. No.

Shit , maybe he'd decided the second he'd gotten that call.

"This is all I ever wanted!" And the stricken look on Ryan's face should've probably stopped him right there, but it didn't, because his heart was racing, he wanted to jump out of his skin, and Ryan just didn't get it. He'd never gotten it. "You know I want to play in the NHL, and in Chicago I have an actual shot at it, not a pipe dream about some lucky shot about being in the right place at the right time! What would you want me to do, give it up to, what? Go to Boston? Or Richmond? They aren't even in the same league!"

Neil had been the one to put them on the list, and they weren't bad or anything, but they weren't Chicago, that was for sure.

"Does it even matter what I think, now?" Ryan asked quietly, and he was trying to be calm, but his hands were clenched so hard around the edge of the truck and his shoulders so hunched that Neil knew better.

Still, he crossed his arms against his chest and didn't say anything.

What could he possibly say, anyway? Ryan's opinion had always mattered, but in this, Neil couldn't let it overrule his.

"So that's it, huh?" Ryan turned his head away until Neil couldn't see his face anymore. "You've got your dream shot, and you're taking it, and to hell with everything else?"

It wasn't fair. Ryan didn't understand, because he didn't know what to do with his life yet, but Neil did. Was that so bad? That he actually had something to lose here and couldn't solely focus on his high school boyfriend he couldn't even kiss in public and who, most likely, wouldn't want to stay in the closet forever, not like Neil would have to?

Maybe it had all been heading to this point, anyway. Maybe they had been doomed from the start, but neither had wanted to say it before now. Before there was something bigger at stake, a real shot at something.

"I'm sorry," he finally offered, calm now, in that weird, dull way it sometimes got when he was tired of being angry and had to resign himself to reality.

And he was sorry. He hadn't planned on any of this, he hadn't planned on Chicago, he hadn't planned on… dumping Ryan.

Because that was what was happening here. Shit .

His stomach hurt, and the sun was shining right into his eyes, and he wanted nothing more than to go home, crawl into his bed, and not deal with any of this.

It seemed like forever before Ryan turned back, but even then he didn't meet Neil's gaze. He only nodded, a sharp tilt of his head, before he gestured towards the passenger door of the truck.

"I'll get you home," he said, voice tight and hollow, and Neil swallowed, wanting to fix this and knowing that he couldn't.

Not anymore.