Page 17

Remy

T he fluorescent lights of Portland General cast a sickly glow over Stone’s narrow bed. He looks smaller somehow like this, asleep beneath the thin hospital blanket with an IV in his arm and tubes snaking out from beneath his flower print hospital gown. His injured knee is encased in a thick, padded brace and propped up by a special orthopedic pillow, but the swelling is visible even beneath the bandages.

It’s a serious injury.

This could be it for him, the end of his career.

No last chance at the cup, no going out on a high, no time to say the kind of dignified goodbye to the sport he loves that a player like Stone deserves.

I know I’ll be sad for him if that comes to pass, but for now I’m just deeply and profoundly pissed .

I spent the entire drive down from Seattle plotting ways to get revenge on the meathead piece of shit who hurt him. A suspension isn’t enough. Shields deserves to pay in Grade A human suffering, the same way Stone is paying, only worse. Stone is suffering for doing the right thing, for being the kind of good, honorable man who looks out for other people.

Shields deserves more heinous retribution.

And no, I’m not crazy enough to take out a hit on the man’s kneecap or anything, but I have other weapons at my disposal.

As I sped south, I worked out a multipronged attack, starting with leveraging my extensive NHL connections to make damn sure Shields doesn’t get called up—or signed—by anyone with influence once his contract with Nebraska is over. Then, I’ll woo my media and influencer contacts into covering the story in the most brutal way possible, all while waging a ruthless social media campaign behind the scenes, that would put Guillaume the intern’s delightfully bitchy side to excellent use. By the time I hit the Oregon state line, I was riding high on visions of Shields crying alone in his Neanderthal man cave as his prospects dried up and the court of public opinion howled for his blood.

Then, I stepped into Stone’s room and saw him like this.

Now, I just feel sad.

And scared.

My heart hurts for him, a fact the nurses clocked the second I stopped in his doorway, my eyes filling with tears. They’ve brought me tea—twice—and the head nurse just dropped off a blanket and pillow for the recliner on her way to clock out.

It was sweet of her, but I can’t sleep, not until Stone wakes up. Not until I tell him face-to-face that he’s not alone. I’m here to help with anything he needs, from taking Barb out for walks, to cooking the meals (for once), to buying craft supplies, so he’ll have plenty to keep him busy as he recovers.

Because he’s my person.

That was becoming pretty obvious even before last night. But the second I saw that hit, any doubt about what Stone really means to me was burned away in a rush of white-hot terror.

When the camera panned right, following the puck as Stone went down…

When I couldn’t see what was happening to him for a few minutes…

Those were the longest minutes of my life.

I never want to feel anything like that again. “From now on, I’m watching every game in person,” I whisper, reaching over to smooth his hair from his forehead. “That way I can be down on the ice in five minutes or less, kicking ass.”

In my head, I imagine how he’d respond if the painkillers weren’t keeping him under. Probably with something about how happy he is to have my righteous redheaded fury on his side. Or how scared Shields should be. Sure, he’s twice my size, but I’m faster, smarter, and every bit as ruthless when it comes to protecting the people I love.

“I love you,” I add, hoping some part of Stone can hear it. “Don’t worry. We’ll take it step by step and get you the best care possible.”

“Hello, sorry to interrupt.” A nurse I haven’t seen before with curly gray hair and kind eyes peeks through the doorway. She must be with the morning shift. The sky outside Stone’s small window is starting to turn a bruised, reddish brown, promising sunrise is just around the corner. “I just need to check his vitals. Won’t be a minute.”

“Of course, I should stretch my legs anyway.” I stand, wincing as my lower back protests my time crouched in a hard plastic chair instead of the plush recliner in the corner. But I wanted to be as close to Stone as possible and the big chair is too heavy to move. “Any word on when the doctor will be in to follow up? The night nurses said it would be sometime after seven this morning, but…”

“I don’t have any update on that yet,” she says as she moves to Stone’s bedside, adjusting one of the monitors. “But I’ll let you know as soon as we do.” She casts a smile over her shoulder. “You must be Remy. Carrie said Mr. Stone was calling your name in his sleep when he first came in. She was so happy when you showed up a few hours later.”

I blink and my heart flips in my chest. I don’t know who Carrie is—she wasn’t one of the nurses I met—but I’m suddenly very glad she likes to gossip. It makes me so happy that I trusted my gut and bailed on everything in Seattle. A little voice in my head said Stone would be pissed at me for skipping the Seattle Storm game on Saturday—and the chance to network with the owners of the new pro women’s team, who’d invited me—but I just couldn’t stay.

I had to be here. With him.

I’ve always been a driven, work-focused person, but with the man I love on his way to the hospital in an ambulance, it suddenly became very clear to me that my priorities have shifted. Stone’s my number one now, and when he’s in trouble, I’m going to move heaven and earth to be there for him, the way I know he would for me.

“Yeah, I’m Remy,” I say with a smile.

“Nancy,” the nurse says, motioning to her badge.

“Thanks for taking such good care of him, Nancy. Everyone’s been so great.”

She beams. “Well, thank you. We try. The team here is really special. I’m glad to have met you. My grandkids will be so excited to hear I met someone with the same name as their favorite cartoon rat.”

I let out a soft laugh. “I love that cartoon. Sadly, however, my real name is Artemis.” I shrug. “But I couldn’t say that as a kid, so my mom started calling me Remy, and it stuck.”

“Artemis, the goddess of the hunt,” she murmurs as she records something on her tablet. “That’s a good name, too. Very strong.” She glances back at me. “Looks like it fits. But don’t be too strong, okay? Even the toughest women need sleep. If you decide to nap, I promise I’ll wake you the second he opens his eyes.”

“Thanks,” I say. “I might take you up on that. I’ve been up for about twenty-four hours by now, so…”

“Sleep,” Nancy says, wagging a finger my way as she heads toward the door. She flicks out the already muted lights, leaving only the lamp above the sink on the other side of the room to illuminate the small space. “I’ll be back when I have an update on when the doctor will be by for that follow up.”

When she’s gone, I sigh and plod reluctantly toward the recliner. She’s right. As much as a part of me still hates the idea of going to sleep before Stone knows I’m here, I won’t be much help as an advocate for him if I’m too tired to think straight.

But just as I’m preparing to kick off my shoes, Stone stirs. I turn toward him, my pulse spiking as his lips begin to move. But he doesn’t open his eyes or murmur my name. Instead, he mutters something that sounds like, “no more planes,” before exhaling a ragged sigh and sinking back into a deeper sleep.

Planes.

He always has weird dreams about planes, ones he shares over coffee so Barb and I can hear all about his bizarre nightly adventures. For some reason, the fact that I know that—that I know him so much better than I did even a few months ago—sends a wave of tenderness rushing through my chest.

I step closer, leaning over to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Can’t wait to hear your plane dream later,” I whisper against his skin. “Get some rest, and I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Remy, what are you doing here?”

My father’s voice from the doorway is like a glass of ice water poured down the back of my shirt. I jerk upright, stomach coiling into a knot as I face him across Stone’s prone form.

Dad lurks in the doorway, dressed in his coaching gear despite the fact that it’s not even six thirty. His grey eyes move from me to Stone and back again, his expression unreadable. But he doesn’t look angry or even particularly shocked, so maybe he didn’t see me with my lips on Stone’s forehead?

Though, I’m honestly not sure how he could have missed it.

“Dad, hi,” I say, the words sticking in my suddenly dry throat. “I saw the hit on television last night and?—”

“What about your interview?” he cuts in, his brow furrowing as he ambles slowly into the room, the signature Coach Lauder cool still mostly unperturbed. “Surely, you didn’t leave Seattle before that was done.”

I blink, taken aback by the question. But I guess I shouldn’t be. After all, he was the one who taught me to put work and accomplishment before everything else. Of course, he’s more concerned about my job prospects than the fact that I clearly have a more intimate relationship with Stone than I’ve let on.

“No, the interview was already over,” I say. “We met yesterday afternoon.”

“And?” he demands.

“And it went very well,” I say, fighting a wave of irritation.

Dad is just being Dad and now isn’t the time for a talk about our relationship dynamics moving forward. I just need to soothe his feathers and get him out of here before Stone does something completely damning like call out my name in his sleep.

“They seemed impressed with my preparation and on board with my coaching style,” I add. “I think we share a similar ethos when it comes to balancing player development and performance. They want a program that fosters resilient athletes, not just quick wins, so…that was great to hear.”

He nods, looking pleased. “And they invited you to sit with the owners at the Seattle game tonight. That’s a good sign.” He acts as if this is common knowledge, not private information I’ve shared with exactly zero people.

I exhale with a shake of my head, my jaw clenching tight. Again, why am I surprised? Of course he knows. Of course he’s still got his ear to the ground, tracking my every professional move like I’m a teenager who needs him to sign consent forms and request my shot record for skills camp.

“Are you flying back up this afternoon?” he asks. “I wouldn’t suggest driving. There’s another storm on the way.”

“No, Dad, I’m not. I’ll text my regrets later, once everyone is awake,” I say, crossing my arms. “I need to be here right now.”

His lips press into a thin line. “For Stone,” he says, still with far less surprise or judgment than I would have expected.

It’s almost like he already knew that we’ve been seeing each other…

But he couldn’t have. Stone and I were so careful, so secretive…at least until recently. And none of the people we’ve let in on our new relationship status would have shared the news with my father.

“That would be a mistake, Remy,” Dad adds. “Stone shouldn’t be top of mind right now. You need to prioritize the big picture.”

I’m about to insist that Stone is a good friend and friends are a priority for me—that’s true enough—and hope that’s enough to kick the can down the road on this conversation, when Stone lets out another soft groan. A moment later, the beeps from the monitor start coming faster.

Not fast enough to be concerning, but there’s a noticeable difference.

Before I can press the call button, Nancy, the nurse from earlier, reappears, slipping past my father with a professional smile.

“Looks like our patient might be waking up,” she says, checking the monitors again. “Let’s give him a little space, shall we? You two can wait in the hallway if you’d like, and we’ll have you back in as soon as he’s checked out.”

I hesitate, not wanting to leave Stone alone, but it’s probably best if he doesn’t wake up to find himself in the middle of the drama. Going from unconscious to trapped in a hospital bed between his secret girlfriend and his secret girlfriend’s father—who is also his boss—wouldn’t be good for an injured man’s blood pressure.

Reluctantly, I follow Dad into the corridor, leaving the door cracked behind me. The hall is still quiet at this point in the morning, with just a few nurses moving between rooms and a janitor mopping the floor at the far end.

“Listen, Remy. He’s a good man,” Dad says once we’re alone. “I’m happy you’ve found someone you enjoy spending time with, but there?—”

“Wait, what?” I cut in, my jaw dropping. “Are you serious?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” He shrugs, looking so chill, I have to fight the urge to pinch myself.

I must have passed out in that chair by Stone’s bed. Now, I’m dreaming this entire encounter. Because no way in hell is my dad okay with me dating a pro-hockey player, let alone one of his pro-hockey players. He’s been warning me away from NHL bros my entire life.

But evidently, he’s changed his mind, at least when it comes to Stone. Still, Dad isn’t the type to change his mind in a few weeks or even months, let alone a few seconds. Clearly, seeing me kissing Stone’s forehead wasn’t the first time that he’s suspected we’re more than friends.

Knowing my father the way I do, even my sleep-deprived brain eventually realizes that he must have known for quite some time. “How long?” I murmur. “How long have you known we were dating?”

“Since last fall, not long after the season started,” he says, sliding his hands into the pockets of his track pants while I mentally reel.

Nearly a year? He’s known that long?

“It was the day you gave the team that presentation on media literacy,” he continues. “Stone couldn’t take his eyes off you, and you refused to look at him at all.”

I blink. “Really? That was it? That was all it took?” I’m struggling to process the mind fuck of all this. All the effort we made to keep things secret—the sneaking around, the plotting and scheming, the crawling out of bars to avoid being spotted by other Badger team members—and my father knew about us almost the entire time? “Why didn’t you say anything?”

He arches a judgmental brow. “I assumed if you wanted me to know who you were dating, you would make an introduction.”

I arch an equally judgy brow back at him. “That’s never stopped you from sticking your oar in before. Like the time you introduced Matt to a surprise drug test in a public bathroom or Chris to the private detective who helped put him away for embezzling. Any of that ring a bell?”

He has the grace to acknowledge reality with a nod. “But in this particular case, I had no reason to be concerned. So, I kept my peace. Like I said, Stone’s a good man. Solid character, good work ethic, a sense of humor without getting too ridiculous about it. He respects the game, his superiors, his teammates, and women, as far as I could tell. If you were going to get involved with someone from the organization, he was by far the safest option.”

A huff of laughter emerges without my permission.

I can’t help it. I still feel like I’ve slipped into a parallel universe.

“Okay. I mean, very unexpected from you, but okay.” I frown as I add, “So, why are you saying he shouldn’t be top of mind? Obviously, he’s top of mind. He’s seriously hurt, and he’s my boyfriend.”

Dad’s lips pucker with disapproval. “Is that so? From the outside, it looked like you two were keeping things casual. As you should. A connection with Stone is fine, for now. But you need to keep your eye on what really matters—on your future. You can’t let some schoolgirl crush interfere with that.”

“My future,” I repeat, that familiar burn of frustration rising like acid in my throat. “You mean your version of my future. The Coach approved one, right?”

He sighs, that same, familiar sigh that makes it clear he thinks I’m being childish, foolish. “Listen, Remy?—”

“No, Dad. I need you to listen to me for once. Stone isn’t a crush, and I’m not a girl . I’m a woman, and Stone is the man I love. I love him, Dad,” I repeat, a giddy sense of freedom rushing through me. Fuck, it feels good to finally be honest about it. And now that my father knows, there’s no reason for secrecy ever again. “And you don’t leave the people you love alone when they’re hurt or in pain.”

Dad’s expression darkens. “You’re making a mistake. Like I said, Stone is a good man, but he’s not?—”

“Not what?” I interrupt. “Not good enough for me ? Not worth my missing one networking event? Seriously, Dad, can you hear yourself? Do you really want your daughter to be the type of person who isn’t there for the people who matter most?”

“Of course not, but Stone shouldn’t be one of those people,” he says flatly. “He’s at the end of his hockey career. He’s in the market to settle down and have a family with a woman who’s happy to follow him to whatever comes next. That’s not you. You’re not a follower or the little woman who stays at home with the kids. That’s never been what you wanted.”

“You have no idea what Stone wants. Or what I want,” I say, my voice starting to shake. “You’ve never bothered to ask. You’ve just decided what was best for me and expected me to fall in line. And if I didn’t, you pressured me non-stop until I caved.”

His scowl deepens. “You wouldn’t have caved if deep down you hadn’t known I was right. You’re stronger than that, and we both know it.”

“Am I?” I ask, tears stinging at the backs of my eyes. “Or maybe I just couldn’t stand to lose the only parent I had left. Maybe Mom dying messed me up more than either of us wanted to admit.”

Dad stiffens. “Don’t bring your mother into this. This isn’t the time.”

“Then, when is the time, Dad? You’ve never wanted to talk about her, about how hard it was when she was suddenly gone, and it was just the two of us. How hard it was even before…” I push on, fighting the tears threatening to spill over. “You were so busy micromanaging her treatment, her diet, how long she could stay out of the house without going back home for a rest, or whether she was up for a walk on the beach… Even at six years old, I could tell that wasn’t what she wanted.”

“Remy,” Dad says, my name a warning I can’t obey.

There’s no stopping this now, all these unspoken things have been festering inside me for too long.

They’re poisoning me, and I can’t live like this anymore.

“Even at six,” I repeat, my face so hot it’s making me a little dizzy. “Even as a tiny little kid, I could see that she just wanted to suck up as much life as she could in the time she had left. She just wanted you to hold her and tell her how important she was and that…” I suck in a breath, the tears flowing down my cheeks as I choke out, “And that you were going to miss her so much when she was gone. Did you ever tell her, Dad? When you were alone? Did you ever tell her that she was the best thing that ever happened to you?”

The color drains from his face. He goes so pale it’s honestly shocking, and for the first time in my life, I witness a moment of raw, vulnerable humanity from my father.

And it’s awful and scary, and I instantly fear that I’ve broken something between us, broken him in a way that can never be repaired.

“Mr. Stone, please, get back in bed! Please!”

Dad and I both turn at the sound of the nurse’s voice, just in time to see Stone hobble into the doorway, one hand gripping the frame for support. His hospital gown hangs loosely from his broad shoulders, and his expression is tight with pain.

The nurse appears behind him a second later, looking exasperated. And worried. “Mr. Stone, you’ve had a lot of pain medication. It isn’t safe for you?—”

“I’m fine, Nancy, I promise,” he says, his gaze never leaving mine. “I thought I heard you. What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to be with you,” I say with more heat than I intended. But dammit, why can’t anyone see that this is where I need to be? “Because I love you, Tyler Stone, and you don’t leave the people you love alone when they need you.”

His eyes widen before jerking quickly to my dad, then right back to me. “I love you, too. And I do need you. You’re right. Thank you.”

“I know. Now, get back in bed. I’ll be right there.” I turn back to my father, bracing for whatever shit storm is about to come next, but…he’s gone.

Startled, I glance back and forth, catching sight of him at the end of the corridor, just seconds before he disappears around the corner.

I curse softly, torn between feeling that everything I said had to be said and the fear that I’ve broken my unbreakable father. I just… I had no idea anything I could ever say was capable of reaching him like that. He’s never given me any reason to think that he isn’t that chill, unflappable man he shows the world all the way to his core.

But there’s nothing I can do about this now.

Dad clearly doesn’t want to talk, and Stone is the reason I’m here.

“Come on, you need to get back to bed,” I say, moving toward him as Nancy agrees, “Yes, he does. Careful. The last thing you need right now is a fall.”

“I am a little woozy, but only a little,” Stone admits, letting me insert myself under his armpit and wrap an arm around his waist. Back at his bedside, he winces as he sinks onto the thin mattress. “Okay, maybe a little more than a little. Probably shouldn’t have jumped up like that.”

“You think?” I shake my head before assuring Nancy. “Don’t worry. I won’t let him up again. I promise.”

She gives a firm nod. “Good. Someone needs to protect him from himself. The doctor will be by soon.” Wagging a final warning finger his way, she adds, “Stay put until then.”

“Will do,” Stone says with a sheepish wave as she departs. His hint of a smile fades instantly, however, as he shifts his focus back to me. “That was bad, huh? With your dad? I only heard parts of it, but it sounded bad.”

I swallow past the lump in my throat. “It wasn’t good.”

“He thinks I’m not the one for you,” he says, the lack of question in the word making me think he heard more than he’s letting on.

“He doesn’t know you,” I say, the sinking feeling in my stomach getting even worse. “I’m not even sure he knows me.” I sigh as I roll my eyes toward the ceiling. “Hell, and maybe I don’t know him.” I chew my lip for a beat before confessing in a softer voice, “I think I really hurt him, Stone. Like…a lot.”

“Sometimes the truth hurts,” he says. “Doesn’t mean it’s not the truth.”

I wince. “I know, but I was…harsh.”

He takes my hand. “You were real. Like I said, I heard parts.” I arch a challenging brow, and he confesses, “Okay, maybe I heard a lot of parts. And maybe those parts sounded very true and important.” He gives my fingers a squeeze. “But it’s also true and important that you both love each other. Maybe you need some help showing that in a way that works for both of you, but you’re still family. He’s your dad. You’re his baby girl.”

“But I’m not a child anymore,” I say weakly. “I can’t keep things the way they’ve always been. No matter how much I want to please him. Or at least, not hurt him.”

“You’ll always be his baby,” Stone says. “Take it from me. Barb will always be that tiny puppy a woman fished out of a gutter and took to the pound. And you will always be Coach’s little girl. But that doesn’t mean you can’t grow or change. You can and you should, I just… Don’t be afraid that he’s gone for good, Rem. He’s never going to give up on you. And you don’t have to give up on him.”

“Yeah?” I squeak, fighting tears again.

“Yeah.” Stone rubs a gentle thumb back and forth over my knuckles. “I think you two can work it out, I really do.”

Before I can respond, the doctor, a tall woman with jet black hair and a confident stride, swings in through the open door.

“Mr. Stone, good to see you awake! I’m Dr. Kadlec.” She moves to check the chart at the foot of the bed. “How’s the pain, on a scale of one to ten?”

“About a six,” Stone says. “Better than I expected, but I’m guessing that’s because you gave me the good drugs?”

“The best available,” the doctor confirms with a smile. “I wanted you to be able to get some sleep. Now, let’s talk about your knee.”

She walks us through the MRI results, explaining that while the injury is significant—a Grade 2 MCL sprain with some minor meniscus damage—it’s not as severe as they initially feared.

“With proper rehabilitation, you could be back on the ice in six to eight weeks,” she says, wrinkling her nose as she adds, “Maybe sooner, depending on your progress and pain levels, but I don’t want to make you any promises I can’t keep.”

Relief washes over Stone’s face, so strong I feel it echo through my chest. “So, I’m not out for good?”

“Not at all. This is a setback, but I predict a full recovery. And you’re clear to head home once you sign off on the paperwork. Nancy is going to bring you breakfast first, then we’ll get things finalized.” Dr. Kadlec turns to me. “Are you his caretaker? He’ll need supervision for at least the next few hours, until the big pain meds wear off and he can feel it when he’s pushing too hard. And I’ll be calling in a few prescriptions to be picked up or delivered.”

I nod. “Sure, I can handle all that. Just tell me what he needs, and I’ll take care of it.”

She walks us through the medication schedule, physical therapy referrals, and warning signs to watch for that would mean he needs to be seen again before his follow-up appointment.

By the time she finishes, Stone looks exhausted.

“Get some rest, and let her take care of you,” Dr. Kadlec tells him. “We’ll start the discharge paperwork now, but take as long as you need to get ready to go.” To me, she adds, “We’ll have a member of staff wheel him down to your car so you can just pull around to the patient pick up.”

“Thank you so much,” I say. “We appreciate the visit and the good news.”

After she leaves, I move back to the chair beside Stone’s bed. “I wonder what you’re getting for breakfast? Hospital food is always exciting.”

“Probably something nasty and light brown. Or white,” he says, sounding as tired as he looks. “I might take a little nap while I wait for it.”

“Go right ahead,” I say. “I’ll stand guard.”

“You don’t have to,” he murmurs. “You can go call your dad if you want. I promise I won’t get out of bed again.”

“Thanks, but I think I should give him some time.” I sigh. “Give me some time, too.” I reclaim his hand, forcing a brighter note into my voice as I add, “Besides, you’re my priority right now. Somebody’s got to keep you in line, and I’m afraid I’m the only one tough enough for the job.”

His lips twitch as his lids grow heavy. “Tough as nails. But you don’t have to be all the time, Rem. Love you soft, too.” He pulls in a sleepy breath, his eyes closing as he adds, “Thank you for coming. It means a lot.”

“You’re welcome,” I say, my throat tight. “I’ll always come, Stone. I promise.”

“Me, too,” he says, so softly I can barely hear it.

But I do.

And as I sit, holding his hand, there’s no doubt that I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

Hopefully, someday, Dad will be able to see that, too.