There it Was （32）

Just as Kasic had promised, the two-week punishment in Worcester had been just that, and before Ryan knew it, he was packing his bags up to head back to Bridgeport. When the text and email had come through late that Thursday evening that he'd been reassigned to Bridgeport, he made sure everything was ready to go for him to roll out early the next morning.

Ryan Baylor had fucking done it.

He'd gone two whole weeks without talking to her, though he did check in with Hayes periodically just to make sure everything was OK and to get updates on the Isles. He'd also made it two whole weeks without a random hookup, minus the sad wife in the red dress on the night of his arrival.

After he'd finished having sex with her, he immediately felt like the biggest piece of shit on Earth, and he'd reached out to Dr. Gephart, who'd talked him down from the ledge.

"Ryan, you have to understand that you're going to mess up. And when you do, you have to forgive yourself and move on. You can't dwell on it."

"I don't know why I did it. I wasn't even that attracted to her. It was like I just couldn't stop myself from it. I even told myself not to do it the entire time I was doing it."

"That's what sex addiction looks like, Ryan," she'd told him. "For the rest of this week, here's what I want from you: whenever you think about hooking up with some random person, I want you to stop what you're doing and write down everything you're feeling at that exact moment. But I want to seriously challenge you to not hook up with anyone else for the duration of your stay in Worcester, OK? Let's see where we sit in about two weeks, unless you need me before then, in which case, you can always reach out."

Ryan had taken her advice and had ended up with 46 pages of a Word document by the time he'd packed his bags the night before his departure.

Forty. Six. Fucking. Pages

But: he'd done it, and the feeling of accomplishment was like nothing he'd ever known. For the first time in a very long time, he knew he was going to beat this.

Additionally impressive, Ryan hadn't had a panic attack since the day before Thanksgiving, when he'd spoken to Luke on the drive out. There were so many things that should've triggered one for him: being in Worcester; the fling with the sad wife in the red dress; the fact that he'd spent Thanksgiving alone in his hotel room eating a shitty gas station sandwich and watching ALF reruns; and the fact that he'd only practiced with the Railers, having been named a healthy scratch for all five of the games they'd played in those two weeks.

"Don't take it personally, Baylor. We all know why you're here, and it's bullshit. You're too good to be here anyway, kid," the defensive coach for the Railers had told him, sensing his frustration at not being able to play.

Every single one of these shit scenarios should have sent him into an anxiety-fueled tizzy.

Instead, he'd managed to handle all of them.

He'd even read and finished an entire book, taking the opportunity to read one of those smutty hockey romances Hayes had gone on about. To his surprise, it was actually pretty good; it was about this goalie who had an anonymous one-night stand with some chick at a costume party, and she ended up being his teammate's sister and ultimately his roommate. He was a slow-ass reader, which wasn't helped by the fact that he had to stop at several choice scenes to smack off, but he'd actually finished an entire book, something he hadn't done since probably middle school.

Friday morning, he arrived at the rental car building to return the Tucson at about 11:00 and waited outside for the ride he'd arranged back to his apartment.

"This fuckin' guy!" Hayes yelled out the window of his truck, pulling into the parking lot and honking at him. He screeched tires into a space, parked crooked as hell, jumped out after barely having turned it off, left the door wide open, and ran over to where Ryan was standing on the curb with his bags. "What's good, Rook?" he said, throwing his arms around him, with Ryan doing the same.

"Everything, now that I'm back home," he said, squeezing Hayes before they let go of each other.

"Fuck, I missed your dumb ass. So much, kid." He swung one of Ryan's bags over his shoulder as they headed towards the truck. He tossed it into the bed, with Ryan doing the same before hopping into the cab. "You ready to go home?"

"Fuck yeah, I am." Ryan leaned his head back against the seat. "So? What'd I miss?"

"Yo: last night, after practice? Dalesy found out his fiancé has been fuckin' Seggy again and he flipped the fuck out, bro. Threw a chair at him, and it caught him square in the face. Ended up with six stitches. It was insanity. I don't know how Hastings hasn't had a fuckin' heart attack yet."

"Holy hell. Betcha he didn't get sent to Worcester," Ryan complained. "Why do I miss all the good shit?"

"I don't know, man. All I know? His fiancé is for the streets. She's tried to get me to fuck her so many times. I can't even be near her. Shit makes me uncomfortable as hell."

"Mar said something about that when we went to Excel…" He stopped himself.

There it was.

Ryan took a deep breath.

"She's OK, man. She's really happy you're coming home, no lie. We both missed you. A lot."

"I missed you guys, too. And I think we're gonna be OK, me and her. I've kinda accepted that we're not together anymore, and I just wanna focus on building up a friendship with her. I think I might be ready for that."

"That's good, Rook." Hayes paused, debating whether or not to let him know, and finally deciding that it wouldn't be fair not to. "Hey, so, there's something you should probably know."

"Yeah? What's that? You two run off and get married while I was gone?"

"Nah. Thought about it, but we ultimately decided against it." For now, he thought it best to fast-forward through the part about him pounding her in the ass on his bed, along with the four other times they'd had sex while he was gone: twice in his truck, once on Amara and Ryan's kitchen countertop, and once in the laundry room of the apartment building, just to bring everything full-circle. "Seriously, you guys aren't together anymore, so it really isn't a big deal, but…"

"But what, Hayes? Spill the tea already."

"Alright. She's kinda datin' a guy she met at The Bull. They're not like, together, and I don't think they're fuckin'. But she's been out with him a couple times for coffee, and I think she really likes him."

There it was.

Ryan leaned forward, resting his head in his hands and exhaling loudly.

"Rook, you g…"

"Gimme a minute," Ryan interrupted. "Just gimme…a minute." He felt his heart beginning to race, but he began to reason with his anxiety.

She isn't your girlfriend anymore. She deserves to be happy, just like you deserve to be happy. You should be happy for her. She's your friend, and friends support each other.

Employing another successful technique that Dr. Gephart had shared with him, he felt his heart rate start to return to normal. "You meet him?" Ryan finally asked.

"Nah," Hayes replied. "But I've seen him."

"And?"

"It's bad, Rook."

"Oh God. Bad as in what?"

"He's older, probably her age, which I think will be really good for her. But he's jacked. Like, jacked. Arms like fuckin' cannons. And he looks just like Seguin, bro."

"Fuck," Ryan ran his fingers through his hair and looked at Hayes. "Seguin? Fuck. I want her to be happy, but is it too much to ask for her to be happy with someone who doesn't look like the literal hottest man alive?"

"I just wanted to give you a heads-up. I wouldn't bring it up to her, but if it does come up, I didn't want you to be blindsided."

"Thanks, man." He sighed. "Well, I was over her."

"Stop it. Anyway, guess what?"

"What?"

"It's my birthday, bitch!"

"Oh shit. Finally legal!"

"Damn straight. And after the game tonight, we're all going out to celebrate. So make sure you bring your clothes with you to the arena because we're leaving right after."

"Happy birthday, Hayes. I'm glad we can finally party together."

"Me too."

Hayes cast a sideways glance at Ryan, remembering the "truth time" conversation he'd had with Amara the night they'd spent together in Ryan's room.

"It's that obvious, eh?"

"Totally. For what it's worth, I'm…pretty sure it's not one-sided, Ty."

Hands gripping the wheel, he battled with the overwhelming urge to ask him if he felt the same, ultimately deciding that now wasn't the appropriate time.

But he knew that at some point, he'd have to bite the bullet.

Hayes helped Ryan carry his bags up to the apartment and into Ryan's room. He peeped the comforter quickly, making sure Amara had gotten rid of all the evidence, which she had. "We'll head out around 3:00. Come get us. We'll Uber over so no one has to drive home tonight," he said, leaving Ryan to reunite with Amara in private, even though he really wanted to stay just to make sure it didn't go south.

Ryan looked around his room, thinking about how much he'd missed being here. Glancing at his dresser, he noticed the picture of him, Amara, and Hayes had been flipped on its face, which he thought was strange. He walked over and flipped it back up, smiling at it. They'd both become two of his absolute favorite people in the world in such a short amount of time. Sure, he had his issues with both of them, but what friendship didn't have its issues?

One thing he knew for certain, deep down in the darkest parts of his soul, is that no matter what, either of them would go to bat for him in a second. He remembered telling Amara before he left that he didn't have a whole lot to be thankful for, but he regretted having said that. Those two alone filled his heart with gratitude.

"Knock knock," she said, tapping against the doorframe, startling him. "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you."

As hard as he tried to fight it, the sight of her standing there brought him immediately to tears.

"No, please don't cry. Then I'm gonna cry, too." She moved quickly to where he met her halfway, and wrapped her arms around him, melting into his embrace. He dropped his head onto her shoulder and sobbed as she ran her nails back and forth across his scalp. "Hi," she said softly.

He picked his head up. "Hi."

"I missed you. A lot. This place just isn't the same without you leaving your shit all over for me to clean up."

He laughed, wiping his eyes and brushing the shoulder of her shirt. "Sorry, I think I got snot all over your shirt."

"I'll let it slide."

"Being away from you sucked," he told her matter-of-factly. "I hated every second of it. But you'd be so proud of me, Mar. I've been taking my therapist's advice, and for the most part, I was able to keep things under control while I was out there. I only had one panic attack, and," he bragged, holding up his index finger, "only one hookup."

"You had only one hookup?"

"Uh huh. And I read an entire book. The whole thing."

"Look at you, Baylor. Almost unrecognizable!" She punched him lightly in the arm. "So glad you're doing well. Not texting you for two weeks wasn't easy, but I wanted to respect you. And it sounds like it was for the best. You look a hell of a lot better than the last time I saw you, that's for sure."

"I feel better, too."

"Good."

"So how've you been?" he sat down, patting the edge of the bed for her to sit.

She started to, but after a brief flashback to what Tyler had done to her there, she decided against it. Not to mention, they had a track record of ending up naked and on top of each other in situations such as this. She leaned against the dresser. "Think I'll stay over here."

"Mar, I'm not gonna..."

"I know that."

"Then come sit. Please? Here," he scooted all the way to the end. "Sit at the other end then."

Getting as far away from him as she could without falling off, she sat down. "I've been…good. Working a lot, writing a ton. Just finished a huge freelance job that paid incredibly well. Treated myself to a nice dinner and some new clothes." She tucked her hair behind her ear and shrugged. "It's been good."

"I'm glad." He smiled at her, wondering if she would tell him about the new guy she'd been seeing, but nothing. "So how'd you spend Thanksgiving? I betcha it wasn't as awesome as mine. Nice to meet you, Amara. I spent Thanksgiving alone in a hotel room. I ate a gas station sandwich, watched reruns of this ridiculously dumbass show called ALF that I could not seem to turn off for some reason, and read some of a hockey smut novel."

"That? Sounds awesome, actually. ALF was the shit back in the day, by the way. Nice to meet you, Ryan. I begrudgingly went with Tyler and Osi over to Dalesy's, where they were doing a sort of 'misfit Friendsgiving' for anyone who didn't go home. A few of the other guys showed up, actually. There were probably about 25 people there, which is way too many for my liking. Headed out early, ‘cause Ty couldn't stand Dalesy's fiancé coming onto him anymore." She gasped. "Yo, did he tell you about the chair?"

"He did. That's fucking insane."

"Right? So after that, we came back to Tyler's, smoked a bowl, and killed an entire pumpkin pie. One of those giant-ass Costco ones. Fell asleep watching Gremlins." She shrugged. "It wasn't bad."

"That also sounds awesome."

"Would've been better if you were there though."

"Yeah," he sighed, looking down at his hands. "Hey, you comin' out for Hayes's birthday tonight?"

"Of course. Wouldn't miss it. And what I mean by ‘wouldn't miss it' is that if I did miss it, Ty would never, ever shut up about it. So, yup. Already mentally preparing for it." She got up from the bed. "I'll see you later then?"

"Yeah, definitely." As he watched her walk out of his room, he realized there wasn't a chance in hell he would ever fully get over that woman.

Not a fucking chance in hell.

He was certain it wouldn't be with her, but he knew right then and there that no matter who he eventually ended up with, she would always be his gold standard.