“I told you, I’m fine,” says Ryan.
“And I told you to shut up,” Jake counters. “This is happening. Deal.”
“He can stay here,” I say.
“Tess…” Rachel says in warning, shaking her head.
“What, there’s two bedrooms, right?” I say with a shrug. “And he’s already here. And he’s tired,” I add, glancing down at him. His exhaustion is written in every line of his face. My poor sunshine puppy from the beach is now looking like a stray left out in a box in the rain. “As long as he doesn’t expect to get fucked six ways to Sunday,” I add.
He groans, looking away. I’m glad he’s embarrassed. It means the sweet puppy is still in there. He was just momentarily possessed by a junkyard dog.
“Won’t be a problem,” he mutters.
“Tess, you’re an angel,” says Jake with a relieved sigh. “It’ll be so much easier if we can just keep him here. It’s close to the practice rink and the rookie apartments. And you won’t have to do a thing,” he adds quickly. “The rookies and WAGs will take care of everything.”
“WAGs?” I repeat.
“Wives and girlfriends,” Ryan explains, not looking at me.
“Yeah, Queen Shelby will be here in the morning to stock the fridge,” says Jake. “All the WAGs will prep his meals. And I bet you can ask them to clean up a bit too,” he adds, glancing around. “Or leave it for the rookies. We’ll have someone check on him every day and drive him to PT until Seattle clears him to drive himself.”
“Which will be when?” Ryan asks, his tone pleading.
“Give yourself a week,” Rachel replies. “Just rest, ice, and elevate.”
“I’ve got all your stuff out in the truck,” Jake says at Ryan. “I’ll go get it. Mars, make sure the guest room has sheets on the bed,” he calls over his shoulder as he jogs off.
Mars just sighs. I can only imagine how much he likes being bossed around in his own house. He flashes Rachel a long-suffering look and she smiles, giving his hand a squeeze as some unspoken agreement passes between them. Ilmari wanders off in the direction of the bedrooms.
“I’ll get you an ice pack,” Rachel says, heading to the kitchen with Poseidon on her heels.
That leaves Ryan and me alone in the living room.
“You don’t have to do this,” he says softly. “Really, I can go.”
I place my hand on his shoulder. “Stay. I want you to stay.”
With a heavy sigh, he leans into my hand. After a moment, he tips his face up slightly, letting his lips graze the inside of my wrist. It’s not a kiss, but it’s not nothing either.
I try to ignore the way it makes my heart beat faster.
18
Rachel and her guys clear out, taking the dog with them. I give Ryan his space once I see that he’s set up in the guest room, his leg balanced on top of a pillow, a bag of ice perched atop his knee. He’s playing some kind of game on his phone that makes loud go-kart racing sounds.
It’s odd, but just knowing Ryan’s here is bringing me comfort. I’m going to log this away under the label ‘Gemini Problems.’ It’s the extrovert in me. I don’t like being alone. I spent so much of my young life alone by nature of my circumstances—abandoned by my mother, ignored by my relatives, too poor to join the cool after school clubs, and too embarrassed to invite friends over when I didn’t know whose couch I’d be crashing on from week to week.
I think that’s why losing Rachel has been so hard for me. I try not to say anything because I know how happy she is now, but going from having her in my life every day to staring at the void of her empty room has been awful. She told me to rent it out, but I just couldn’t bear to think of someone else sharing my space.
What can I say? I’m an extroverted introvert with truly impressive trust and abandonment issues. But man, do I know how to pick a quality cheese.
Now Ryan is here, and it’s unsettling me that I don’t mind. What is it about this hockey boy that I keep letting him in? I let him flirt with me, let him kiss me. Now he flashes me one glance of those hurt puppy eyes, and I let him move in across the hall.
I lean over in my kitchen chair and glance down the dark hallway. A soft strip of golden light glows at the bottom of his bedroom door. It’s been a couple hours since he got here. Checking the time, I’m shocked to see its nearly midnight.
What is he doing in there? Shouldn’t he be asleep by now? He was dead on his feet hours ago. And I heard Rach walking him through his pain management routine before she left. He’s got enough pills on his bedside table to drop an elephant.