Page 18

Chapter 18

RYLAN

W armth. Safety. The thump of a heartbeat under my ear. I'm cocooned in a scent that's becoming way too familiar:JamiePirelli. His chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm, radiating heat through his worn t-shirt.

For one perfect moment, I float in that space between sleeping and waking, where nothing exists exceptJamie'sarms around me and his fingers tangled in my hair.

Then reality crashes back.

Dad. Wally's texts. The police. Dad. And then Jamie taking charge while my brain struggled to process. Jamie holding me– fuck.

My whole body tenses. Jamie's breathing changes tempo, but he doesn't wake.

I should move. Should put myself back together and—

My phone buzzes on the nightstand. It's probably Constable Dave with an update aboutDad.

Mybrainscreams at me torun, but he tightens his arms around me without waking up, and I letmyselfstay. I can't forcemyselfaway from this feeling ofbeingsafe. Ofbeingwrapped up in his solid, warmbody.

Jamie stirs. "Time's it?" he mumbles into my hair.

Here's the point where I would normallyrunand hide. Like I did in San Diego.

But Dad's in the hospital. Jamie's mom has contacts at treatment centers. AndJamie...

Jamieshared pieces of himself last night. Things he's never told anyone else. He trusted me. I can at least try to trust him.

"Early,"I manage."But I should check on my dad."

He loosens his arms, giving me space to movewithoutcompletely letting go."Want me to order breakfast? Your flight's not until nine."

His simple offer of practical help makes a lump rise in my throat."Yeah. Thanks."

I sit up slowly, and Jamie's hand slides to my lower back. It's warm and steady. It grounds me and helps me feel even more safe.

"I forwarded you those treatment center details from my mom,"he says quietly."If you still want them. And she offered to answer any questions you might have. I put her contact info in the email."

I should say no. Should handle this alone. I should…

"Thank you,"I whisper. For some reason, accepting his help feels like jumping off a cliff.

Icheckmy messages while Jamie climbs out of bed. Two texts from Dave Mitchell: Dad's stable, got some decent sleep. Doc Matthews wants to run a couple more tests thismorning.

I shake my head. Fuck, I'mlucky. Not many police officers would not only take thetowndrunkto the health clinic instead of tossing him into a jail cell to sober up but would alsocheckup on thedrunkin themorning, long after his shift has ended, and report back to the family. Like I said: reallucky.

Jamie moves around the room, somehow giving me the space I need while still being present with me. He'salreadyorderedbreakfast and pulled up my flight details."Your Uber will be here in about forty-five minutes."

"Thanks."My voice comes out rough. I clear my throat."I should pack."

"Already started." He gestures to my open suitcase with most of my clothes folded neatly inside. "Hope that's okay." He chews on his lip, looking uncertain.

It's more thanokay. My jaw drops."So you CAN be neat and organized!"

For a second he looks as surprised as Iamat the joke. WhoamI right now? But then he shoots me a wink."Eh, if the situation demands it, I can rise to almost any occasion."He waggles his eyebrows at me.

My phone buzzes again. It's Carson, confirming my leave. He insists I take at least three days.

"The team will understand,"Jamie says after I end thecall. He's arranging my toiletries."We've got this for you. I promise."

"I should talk to Louis before—"

"I already texted him. He's meeting us for coffee downstairsbeforeyour ride gets here."

Us. Like we're a unit. I don't want to admit how good that feels.Havingsomeoneto help me.Someoneto just be there. For me.

Ishouldprotest. Ishouldkeep my boundaries secure, and remain professional. But I can't do it. The feeling ofhavingsomeonelook out for me is addictive.

A knock on the door announces breakfast.Jamieanswers while I'm still frozen in place, struggling with how to handle all this... care.

"Eat first,"hesays, setting a plate in front of me."Everything else can wait ten minutes."

"Jamie."His name comes out somewhere between grateful and panicked.

Our eyes lock, and that connection settles something inside me.

"I know this is hard for you—acceptinghelp,"hesays."But just...letme do this, okay? Please?"He's so sincere. He so genuinely wants tohelpme with my fucking mess of a life that I can barely comprehend it.

The lump in my throat threatens to choke me, but I manage to nod.

"Good."His smile is soft."Now eat your eggsbeforethey get cold. Louis will kill me if Iletyou fly on an empty stomach."

A laugh escapes before I can stop it. "You're ridiculous."

"Maybe."He shrugs, but his eyes are warm."Is it working?"

More than you'll ever know... "Shut up and pass the coffee." I wink at him. I fucking wink.

His hand brushes mine as he hands me the mug. Blackcoffeewith two sugars. I don't pull away.

Baby steps.

Louis is already in the lobby when we step off the elevator, three coffee cups on the table in front of him. His usual mischievous grin is nowhere in sight.

Jamie's knee presses against mine under the table, and I have to fight not to lean into his warmth. Not out in the open like this. The early morning lobby is mostly empty, but my skin prickles with paranoia anyway.

"My folks send their love,"Lou continues, and my chest tightens at the mention of his parents. The Tremblays were my second family after Mom died. Their kitchen table was a refuge I desperately needed when my dad started drinking."Mom is furious she's not there to help, but she's making calls. Apparently, she's still friends with half the nurses in Northern Ontario."

"Thanks."I clear my throat."For handling stuff while I'm gone."

"Don't worry about the team."Lou's voice is firm."We've got this covered. You just focus on your dad."

I nod, not trusting my voice. Jamie's hand finds my knee under the table, squeezing gently before he pulls away.

"And Ry?"Lou's expression softens."Let people help this time, yeah? No more lone wolf bullshit."

I want to protest so I can keep that careful distance that's always been between me and everyone else. Including my best friend.

But Jamie's warm hand returns to my knee, squeezing it again, reminding me that he's right here beside me. That I'm going to be okay. And Lou's watching me with thirty years of friendship in his eyes. Maybe…

"Yeah," I manage. "Okay."

Lou's eyebrows shoot up, but he doesn't comment at the way I agree to accept help without argument.

Jamie stands, checking his phone."Your Uber's three minutes out."

I get up too fast, almost sending my coffee flying. Jamie steadies it without a word as if he was somehow expecting it to happen.

"Thanks,"I say. For the coffee save. For last night. For everything . The word isn't nearly enough, but something in his eyes tells me he understands.

When he looks at me, Jamie's eyes are soft in a way I can't handle right now. I manage an awkward bro-hug, pulling back before I do something stupid like nuzzle my face into his neck and take a big lungful of his comforting scent.

"Text when you land?"he asks.

I nod, not trusting my voice. Lou pretends not to notice the... whatever it is that's going on between us.

"Come on,"Lou grabs my bag."I'll walk you down."

"So,"he begins as we're walking across the lobby."Pirelli was helpful last night?"

My heart rate spikes. Shit, has he noticed something?"Yeah,"I swallow hard, my mouth tasting like sandpaper."I'm—Yeah, he helped a lot, actually."

He turns to look at me as if he's seeing something he never has before. Dread crawls up my spine.

"I'm really glad,"he saysfinally, his voice neutral in a way that isn't neutral at all."It's good that you let someone help."

"Is it?"My laugh comes out bitter, and look down at my feet."I'm supposed to be able to—"

"To what? Handle everything alone?"He cuts me off."Like you've been doing since we were teenagers?"

"I don't—"

"Rylan."Something in his tone makes me stop. I lift my head to look at him, my heart pounding.

"Don't."His voice is gentle but firm."I've known you too long, Ry. I see... stuff. Changes."

My heart pounds against my ribs."Lou…"

"He's good for you,"he continues, his voice soft."Whatever it is... whatever label you want to use... I haven't seen you let anyone get this close to you since Nick."

I close my eyes, my heart racing. We're so close to naming it—this truth I've never been able to voice, even to my best friend.

"I don't know how to do this,"I admit, my voice quiet.

"Do what? Accept help? Let people care about you?"He squeezes my shoulder."You could start by not pushing away the people who want to be there for you. All of you."

The weight of what he isn't saying, the thing he's not forcing me to say out loud but seems to understand, makes a huge lump rise in my throat.

Something in my chest cracks open at the way he's giving me space to be honest without demanding I say something I'm not ready for.

"Louis, I—"The words stick in my throat. Years and years of hidingand suddenly I'm desperate to tell him everything. About Jamie. About who I am. About how fucking terrified I am to let anyone see this part of me.

"Hey."His smile is warm and genuine. The smile of a true, best friend."You don't have to say anything. Not until you're ready. I just need you to know that nothing changes for me. No matter what."

Tears burn behind my eyes."How long have you..."

"Known? Or suspected?"He shrugs, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth."Remember juniors? That billet family's son who used to hang around practice?"

My breath catches. Michael. Dark-haired, quiet Michael who used to watch me when he thought I wasn't looking. Who I tried to never look back at. Or at least, not when anyone would notice.

"The way you avoided him,"Louis continuescarefully."It wasn't because you didn't like him. It was because you did."

I have to grip the handle of my rolling suitcase to steady myself. All these years, and he knew. He knew .

"And now Jamie..."Louis's voice trails off.

"I can't—"My voice breaks."The team, my dad, hockey…"

"None of that is worth destroying yourself over."Louis cuts me off gently."Of course, I'd never say anything. But you deserve to be happy, Rylan. To be yourself. With whoever makes you feel safe enough."

The Uber pulls up to the curb.

Lou turns to me, his usual mischievous grin replaced with something fierce and protective."Come here, you idiot."

He pulls me into a crushing hug, the kind we haven't shared since Mom's funeral."I've got you,"he whispers."I always will. Nothing changes that."

My throat closes up. I grip the back of his jacket, struggling to swallow the tears that burn behind my eyes.

"Thanks, Lou,"I manage to choke out.

He pulls back, squeezing my shoulders."Text me when you land. And Rylan?"His voice turns serious."Stop punishing yourself for being happy. Nick would never have wanted that."

I can only nod, not trusting my voice. Lou grabs my bag, puts it in the trunk, and then watches the rideshare pull away.

My oldest friend. My fiercest defender.

I don't even want to allow myself to imagine what my life could be like if... Fuck. Maybe…