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Riley probably should have guessed that the wait while Adam was in surgery would be agony. Somehow, despite knowing that he was terrible at managing feelings, and knowing that he was still reeling from the sudden loss of his dad, Riley hadn’t considered that he’d spend the entire two hours—now two hours and eighteen fucking minutes—terrified that he was about to lose Adam too.

It’s just an operation , he reminded himself. He’s had tons of them , you’ve had a few yourself. The surgeon has probably performed a million of them. He’s fine. He’s fine.

He hadn’t brought a book or anything. He’d spent most of the past few hours texting Lindsay, because she was the closest person to a doctor that he knew.

Lindsay had, lovingly, told him to chill the fuck out after the first hour. As if Riley knew how to do that.

Finally, finally , after nearly three fucking hours had passed, a man wearing scrubs entered the waiting room and beamed when he spotted Riley. “It really is you,” the man exclaimed. “Riley Tuck. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Dr. Pandev, I performed Shep’s surgery.” He extended a hand to Riley. A hand that had just replaced Adam’s shoulder joint and had possibly taken his pain away for good.

Riley shook it. “He’s okay? He’s…okay?”

“Absolutely fine. I think his life is going to be much easier now. After he recovers, of course.”

Riley nearly collapsed with relief. “Thank you.”

“Well, I could hardly let anything bad happen to him,” the doctor joked. “The city of Toronto would have my head.”

Riley couldn’t quite manage to smile at that. Dr. Pandev looked to be about Riley’s age, maybe a bit younger.

The doctor gave his bicep a chummy pat and said, “I was a huge fan of yours. I was sorry when you left. You’re doing well?”

“Thanks, uh, yeah. Doing well.”

“That’s great. Good to hear.” He laughed. “I couldn’t believe it when Shep told me you were in the waiting room. It’s cool that you’re still close.”

“Yup,” Riley said uneasily.

Dr. Pandev beamed at him for another few seconds, then said, “So I’ll be checking in with Shep later today when he’s in his room, but a nurse will come let you know when you can see him.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

The doctor left, and Riley returned to his plastic chair. Adam was fine. It was over, and he was fine.

The nurse—a young man with kind eyes named Hassan—arrived about twenty minutes later.

“Can I see him?” Riley blurted out immediately.

Hassan smiled in a way that seemed…knowing. “Yes, you can come with me. He’s settled in his room, and he was asking about you.”

Riley’s heart swelled. “Yeah?”

“He is very tired still, and he needs to rest,” the nurse warned him.

“Of course. Yeah. But he’s good?”

“He’s very good. And it seems that he will be well taken care of at home.”

Riley blushed. “He will be.”

He followed Hassan onto an elevator, then down a hall, and then, finally, into the room where Adam was resting in bed, his chest and shoulders slightly elevated, his arm in a sling. He was pale and looked exhausted, but he managed a weak smile when he saw Riley.

“Hey,” Adam rasped. “How was your morning?”

A relieved laugh tumbled out of Riley as he approached the bed. He gently combed Adam’s hair with his fingers and said, “You look amazing.”

Adam laughed.

Hassan was still in the room, checking the monitors Adam was attached to, but Riley didn’t care about having an audience. He wished Adam had a free hand he could hold, but the one that wasn’t in a sling had an IV needle in the back of it and a heart rate monitor clamped to his index finger.

“How are you feeling?” Riley asked as he continued to stroke Adam’s hair.

“Brutal. But the drugs are nice.” Adam closed his eyes and tilted his head into Riley’s touch. “That feels nice.”

“We’ll be getting you out of bed and walking around a bit later today,” Hassan said. “But for now you rest, and I’ll make sure you’re comfortable. If the pain feels like too much, let me know and I can make adjustments.” He gestured to the call button.

“Thanks,” Adam mumbled.

“And I mean it,” Hassan said. “Tell me if you are in pain. This isn’t a hockey game.”

Riley smiled. “I’ll make sure he tells you.”

“He will,” Adam assured Hassan sleepily. “He’s bossy.”

Riley bit the inside of his cheek.

After Hassan left, Riley pulled a chair beside the bed and continued stroking Adam’s hair. He thought Adam had fallen asleep, but Adam surprised him by murmuring, “Hockey makes us into liars.”

Riley’s fingers stopped. “Hm?”

“Liars,” Adam repeated without opening his eyes. “About how much pain we’re in. Mental health, addiction, all of it.” He opened his eyes, gaze locked on Riley’s. “I lied about who I was. About my feelings for you.”

Riley swallowed and waited.

“Look where it got me,” Adam continued. “Divorced, fucked-up shoulder, lost you for years.”

Though none of what he was saying was news to Riley, it was shocking to hear Adam say it. Riley had never heard him say a bad word about hockey before. He didn’t know how to react to it now, so he just said, “I’m here now.”

Adam closed his eyes again. “I should have said it back to you. Should have been honest.”

It took Riley a moment to figure out what he was referring to. When he realized, he said, “Adam. Don’t. It doesn’t matter now.”

“I think we would have been happy,” Adam said, barely above a whisper. “I think we would have been fucking unstoppable together.”

“You need to rest,” Riley said desperately. This was all too much, for this moment. And, besides, Adam was probably high as a kite. “We can talk later.”

“Yeah,” Adam sighed, then smiled, just slightly. “We’ve got time.”