Page 17

Chapter 17

JAMIE

R ylan's shoulders are rigid as he sets down the phone after talking to the police officer. He moves to his suitcase, probably looking for the comfort he gets from organizing stuff, but his hands are shaking so badly, he has trouble opening it.

"Here."I step closer, careful to telegraph my movements."Let me help."

He lets out a shaky breath."Jamie..."

"So, um my mom is a psychology professor."I push forward."She specializes in addiction treatment. She told me about this conference in Vancouver last year where she met a lot of people. I could… I could ask her for some advice if you want. She wouldn't have to know who I'm asking for, but maybe..."

Rylan goes still, and for a moment I think I've overstepped.

"Your mom." His voice is rough.

"Yeah."I give him a wry smile."My whole family is full of brainiacs. My mom is an expert in her field, and she knows a lot of people."I move a little closer."She has contacts all over North America."

He sinks onto his bed, holding his head in his hands."I don't know what to do anymore."

"Will you let me ask her?"I pull out my phone."I won't share your name. Nothingthatcould identify you."

His eyes meet mine, and the anguish on his face nearly takes my breath away. "Why are you doing this?"His voice is so broken it hurts my heart.

Because I can't stand seeing you in this much pain... Because you deserve to have someone help you with this heavy shit.

"Because you don't have to handle everything by yourself."

He gives a tiny nod. Takingthatas permission, I text my mom while Rylan calls Coach Shaw. His Captain-voice is steady while he explains what's going on with his dad.Justlike I knew he would, Coach Shaw tells him he should take emergency family leave. He tells Rylan not to worry about the team and reassures him he's doing the right thing by taking care of his family. I pretend not to notice how his free hand grips the bedspread while he talks.

My mom gets back to me almost immediately. She's still up, grading papers, and within a couple of minutes, she's sent a bunch of information about treatment centers, including the one in Vancouver she'd raved about afterthatconference. She also replied with an offer to do whatever she can to help speed up the intake process.

When I show Rylan her text, his eyes turn glassy and he swallows hard before whispering a barely audible"Thank you."

Carson calls next. His deep voice coming through Rylan's phone is concerned but supportive. From what I overhear, he says pretty much the same thing as Coach, assuring Rylanthatthis is why the league has an emergency policy andthathe should focus on helping his father, not worry about the team. He ends by asking Rylan if he'd like Kelly to bookhis travel for him, but Rylan declines. When the call ends, he looks like a shell of himself: utterly drained.

"We need to book you a flight for tomorrow, right?"When he nods, I grab my iPad off the bed."Okay, what airport do you fly into?"

Less than ten minutes later I've booked him a flight to Toronto and reserved him a rental car. He doesn't say one word while I handle it, but I understand. He's going through enough. Doing this one small thing for him makes me feel less helpless--or at least not as much like a useless tit.

While he was talking with Carson, I changed into sweats and a comfy t-shirt, and throwing all caution to the wind, went into his things and pulled out a similar set of clothes for him. He still looks so fucking overwhelmed, I don'tevenask permission, Ijustgrab the clothes off the bed, take his hand and lead him into the bathroom.

I set his sweats on the counter before turning around and catching his eyes."Do you want to take a hot shower?"I ask.

He shakes his head.

"Okay. Put your sweats on and hand me your clothes. I'll pack up while you brush your teeth, okay?"I keep my voice soft but firm. He hesitates, his blue eyes searching mine, but it's clear he doesn't have the strength to fight me. When he nods, I step out to give him privacy, and when he hands me his clothes, I fold them neatly and pack them in his bag.

When he comes out of the bathroom a few minutes later, I'm getting settled on my bed, my back resting against the headboard."Come here,"I say softly.

For a moment, he stands still. Butthenit's like something in him gives way, and he moves toward me, crawling onto my bed and lying beside me on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

"Yeah, no, that's not gonna work,"I say, before sliding my arm underneath his shoulders and hauling him against me. He lets out a surprised huff but lets me manhandle him so he's pressed right up against me, our legs tangled together and his head resting against my chest. I wrap my arms around him and we lie quietly for a while, not speaking.

"Try to sleep,"I murmur, running my fingers through his hair."We'll figure everything out tomorrow."

He makes a soft sound, somewhere between protest and acceptance. But he doesn't pull away.

A few minutes later, he's still tense in my arms. So I start talking, keeping my voice low and steady.

"So, my whole family is full of ultra-brainy academics. Like, seriously brilliant people. My sister Lola is a constitutional lawyer in DC. She's argued cases before the Supreme Court. The woman is literally changing the world into a better place."

Rylan doesn't say anything, but he nods against my chest.

"My oldest brother, Adam, is a neurosurgeon. He lives in Boston, and he does groundbreaking research. He's a literal brain surgeon,"I laugh." And my other brother, Edward, works for NASA down in Houston.Thatbrother is a literal rocket scientist. Thenwe have my parents..."I let out another soft laugh."My Dad is a department chair at Harvard, and my Mom is a renowned professor of psychology, who also manages to keep seeing clients as her 'side project'."

Rylan shifts, snuggling in closer to me.

"Andthenthere's me. The jock. The one who dropped out of Boston College to play hockey."My fingers continue their gentle path through his hair."It's a whole 'one of these things is not like the other' scenario."I pause."They support me, you know? I've never doubtedthatfor one second. But sometimes I catch them exchanging these looks... Like they're waiting for me to wake up and realize I should be doing something more... important. More serious."

The tension has started to drain out of Rylan's body, so I keep talking.

"I love them. And I know they love me, and I know they'll always support me. But I've always been the odd one out. The piece of the puzzlethatdoesn't quite fit."I take a breath."I don't do anything to make the world a better place like they all do."

I swallow hard."I don't think I've ever told anyonethatbefore."

Rylan makes a soft sound, burrowing closer. His hand fists in my t-shirt, and something in my chest cracks wide open.

I hold him as his breathing evens out, keeping my own breaths steady and calm.Justbefore he drifts off, he mumbles somethingthatmight be"thank you."

"Sometimes being different isn't wrong," I whisper. "It's just... different."

Finally, he drifts into sleep, his breath warm and steady against my chest. I press my lips to his temple, gently, so I don't jostle him awake."I've got you,"I whisper, knowing he's already asleep.

Outside, Minneapolis traffic hums. Rylan's warm weight against me anchors me as I stare into the dark, wondering when exactly I started falling in love with this man.