Page 38 of Tough Guy (Game Changers #3)

Ryan found a seat in the back row and tried to swallow his anger.

It was like Harvey had never existed. He’d given everything he had to hockey, and when there was nothing left, hockey had abandoned him.

He didn’t even seem to have many friends or family here, and maybe that was what happened when you were a miserable addict everyone feared.

Someone sat next to Ryan. Not at the end of the same row, but right next to Ryan. He glanced over and was surprised to see who it was.

“Hey, Price.”

“Rozanov. Shouldn’t you be at the All-Star game?”

Ilya shrugged. “There will be others.”

Did Ilya even know Duncan Harvey? He’d never played with him. It seemed bizarre that he was here.

The service was short and impersonal. Harvey, it turned out, didn’t have much family. His parents had died years ago, and although a sister was listed in the obituary, she didn’t seem to be there.

Was Ryan looking at his own future? He didn’t like to think so.

Despite everything, his family still loved and supported him.

He was still confident he wasn’t addicted to painkillers or anything else, but he was starting to understand how easily he could become addicted.

There was no question that he had preferred how he felt when he was high these past few horrible weeks.

When it was over, Ilya stood and said, “Walk with me?”

“Sure. Okay.”

When they got outside, they trudged across the snowy parking lot. Ilya stopped walking when they reached a large, leafless tree at the far end. He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his coat pocket, tilting it first toward Ryan in offering. Ryan declined.

Ilya pulled one out for himself and lit it.

He leaned back against the tree’s trunk as he took his first drag.

He was a very attractive man: almost as tall as Ryan, with sparking hazel eyes and curly, golden-brown hair that fell lazily around his face in a manner that matched his unbothered personality.

“Was nice of you to come,” Ilya said after he exhaled.

“Figured it was the least I could do.”

“Yes. Well. Least you could do was too much for most players, it seems.”

“Yeah, I noticed that.”

Ilya blew out more smoke and said, “This game can be really fucking terrible.”

Ryan shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded. “I know.”

A moment of silence passed, and then Ryan couldn’t help but ask, “Why are you here anyway? Did you know Harvey?”

“No. Not really. But...his death. Suicide. It matters to me.”

“Oh.” Right. Ilya’s mother. The whole reason he had started a charity with Shane Hollander.

“We don’t talk about it enough in this sport. Depression. Addiction. Mental health.” Ilya glanced at him. “You know about it.”

Ilya had never had a problem with being direct. “Yeah. I know about it.”

“How are you doing?”

“Some days are better than others. But I see a therapist. It’s, like, on Skype, but it still works. And I take meds. I should probably talk about it more, but...”

“You are a private person. I understand that.”

He had to smile. “Do you?”

There was a funny little twist to Ilya’s lips. “We all have secrets.”

Ryan nodded. Of course Ilya had secrets. He wondered if Ilya was possibly as lonely as he was.

“Do you like playing hockey?” Ilya asked suddenly.

Ryan almost answered “Of course” without thinking, but he stopped himself and instead considered Ilya’s question.

“No. I don’t think I have for a long time.”

“It doesn’t make you happy?”

The last thing hockey did was make Ryan happy. “I think it makes me miserable, to be honest.”

“That’s a problem,” Ilya said.

“I know.”

Ilya finished his cigarette. “Wyatt Hayes is a good guy.”

“He is. I miss him.”

“He said you help out at a place with kids? Play hockey with them?”

“Oh.” Ryan looked at the ground, embarrassed that Wyatt had been talking about him to Ilya Rozanov. “Yeah. When I can. Which isn’t often.”

“You like it?”

“I do. I like kids.”

Ilya nodded. “What are you doing this summer?”

Ryan was having a hard time keeping up with Ilya. “I don’t know. Might go back home to Nova Scotia. Why?”

Ilya fished his phone out of his pocket and handed it to him.

“Give me your number. We are organizing these camps for our charity. Me and Shane. Hollander, I mean.” He looked oddly embarrassed for a moment.

“They are hockey camps for kids. They will be in Ottawa and Montreal this summer. We could use help.”

“What, me?” Ryan truly couldn’t fathom being a coach at the same camp where kids would be learning from stars like Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov.

“I don’t want to teach kids how to fight,” Ryan said, just to make it clear.

Rozanov looked at him like he was stupid. “No. You are a defenseman. You will teach them how to stand still and not score goals. Defenseman things.”

Ryan laughed. “Asshole.”

“Also, it is going to be for everyone, you know? Like...” Ilya seemed to wrestle with how to say the next part, but then just bluntly asked, “You are gay, yes?”

Ryan snorted, surprised by another subject change. “Yes.”

“Good. That’s what I mean. The camps will be for that too. I mean we will teach, um...”

“Tolerance?”

Ilya smiled. “Yes. Try to change things, right?”

“You should ask Scott Hunter then.”

He made a face. “Maybe.”

They walked back to their vehicles in silence. As Ilya was unlocking his Mercedes SUV, he said, “Find something that makes you happy, Price. Hold on to it.”

Ryan nodded, and his throat suddenly felt tight.

He’d had someone who’d made him happy, and he’d let him go.

And for what? A life of nothing but pain and misery that he felt obligated to endure.

There was money, sure, but Ryan didn’t even enjoy spending it.

He could live without an NHL salary. He just needed to find something he truly enjoyed doing.

During his drive back to Toronto, he considered the fact that he had quite a bit of money saved.

He could sell his ridiculously expensive apartment and live quite comfortably for a long time while he figured out the rest of his life.

He was only thirty-one. Outside of the hockey world, he was still a relatively young man.

He could quit. He could just quit. His heart started racing at the realization of how possible this was.

There was literally nothing stopping him.

Sure, he would piss some people off, and probably get yelled at, but would anyone really care?

His coach had been threatening to replace him for two months now.

Let him do it. Let someone else live the NHL dream. Ryan was done.