Chapter Twenty-Four

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Hayes

S o…I have a boyfriend. My first one. I don’t count Malcolm because despite believing it was real at the time, it was obviously nothing but a lie. Rylan is funny and kind. He cares about his family and would do anything for them. He donates to important causes, which I know because I googled “interesting Rylan Pierce facts” when I was bored one day. I’m not proud of it, but it’s true. There was this one time where he noticed a kid at the airport wearing his jersey. Rylan must have been able to tell he was sick and went over to him. When he heard the kid’s story, he spent time with him—more than once. He rented out a rink and played hockey with him. He would call and check on him and even went to the kid’s house…and he never spoke about it. At all. He didn’t do it for attention; he did it because it was the right thing to do, and the only reason it came out is because the family talked about it after the boy got healthy again.

My heart nearly exploded when I read the story…or at least turned into a big ball of swoon.

I’ve never swooned over anyone in my life.

These are the things I think about as I’m sitting in first class on a last-minute flight to Portland. I got a call early this morning that there’s an issue at the Rockwell there I need to deal with. Rylan is on a three-game road trip—St. Louis, Chicago, Dallas—and part of me is glad for the distraction in Portland because I’ve realized something: I miss Rylan when he’s away. I’m not sure how I didn’t catch on to that before. Call it denial or not being in touch with my emotions or lack of experience. Maybe it’s a combination of the three, but all I know is, I’m bummed that my superhot boyfriend is out of the state, and the feeling is too familiar for it to be the first time.

These are just part of a list of what Rylan does to me that is…interesting? Frightening? All of the above? I never used to miss Malcolm when I was away on business or when he was lying about being out of town for work and was really fucking one of his many other boyfriends.

But now I have Rylan, which is mind-blowing, but I’m not going to argue with him if he wants to date down…and I’ll even pretend I believe it can last, that whatever it is about me that makes other people not connect with me won’t eventually get in the way with me and Rylan too.

Now that I’ve obsessed about my boyfriend enough, I pull out my laptop and begin looking through the information sent to me about the Portland Rockwell this morning.

Nonstop from LA to Portland only takes about two and a half hours. There’s a car waiting for me at the curb when I arrive.

“How was your flight, Mr. Rockwell?” the driver asks, holding his hand out for my bag. Even though this is how I grew up, I always feel strange when someone wants to do something like open a door for me or put my bag in the trunk. It feels pretentious, but I also don’t want the person to feel like I’m trying to insult them while they’re simply doing their job.

“Not bad, and you can call me Hayes. Mr. Rockwell is my father. How was traffic?” He seems a little surprised at my response before a small smile pulls at his lips. The air around us lightens.

We make small talk, something I’m not very good at, as he drives me to the hotel. During the quiet moments, every time I look up, he’s glancing at me in the rearview mirror. The curiosity in his eyes is hard to miss. Oh. My back stiffens, and I can’t help feeling on display in the worst possible way.

“I was really sorry to hear about your situation last year. I know that couldn’t have been easy.”

And there it is. Why would someone bring up the most embarrassing moment of someone’s life? The thing is, he’s sincere. I don’t doubt it, but that doesn’t make it any easier to deal with. Doesn’t make me feel comfortable talking about it, even if he is trying to be nice by being supportive.

“It’s over and done with,” I reply simply because what the hell else do I say? The rest of the drive to the Rockwell, I busy myself on my phone. He doesn’t try to talk to me again.

When we arrive, I hand him his tip as he gives me my bag, and he says, “Sorry about that. My sister…she dealt with a similar kind of ex, so I’m sensitive to it. It was really hard on her. He put her through a lot, and she felt alone, but I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

Then it’s me feeling guilt like a weighted blanket. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that I’m not the only one who’s dealt with someone like Malcolm, only mine was public. “It’s okay. Sorry if I came off short. It’s just…it was a bad experience.”

He nods. “No problem.”

“I hope your sister is okay.”

I head for the building, but I carry that conversation with me the rest of the day. As I’m working and meeting with the local manager of the Portland Rockwell, I’m thinking about his sister, and all the other people who’ve been through what we have—the Jilted Exes—and hoping they have the support I do with Rylan, Donovan, and Anthony.

We’re still in a meeting when I know it’s time for Rylan’s game, and I can’t help checking my phone every few minutes to see how he’s doing. They pull out a win, thankfully, but I’d been worried it would go into overtime. Fortunately, there was a penalty, which led to a power-play score for the Rebels, helping us squeak out a win by one goal and… us ? Am I suddenly a sports guy? “Oh my God.”

“Excuse me?” asks Harold, who’s sitting beside me.

My face gets hot, and I shake my head, hoping they’ll ignore me and my random outburst in the middle of a meeting.

Despite our late damage-control meeting, I’m lucky enough to get settled in my room just in time for Rylan’s video call.

He gives me his big, contagious smile, before cocking his head slightly. “Where are you?”

“I had to fly to Portland. Rockwell stuff.”

“Oh. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’ll be fine. I should be back before you’re home from traveling.” Look at us, sounding like a real couple…which reminds me that we are, and my head spins.

I’m lost in a Rylan-induced trance when I hear, “Hi, Hayes!” It makes my pulse jump and the phone slip from my hand as I sit up straighter on the bed. Who the hell was that?

I pick up the phone and see a man standing behind Rylan. Kason Maddox, goalie for the Rebels. What is he doing there? He’s never in the room when Rylan and I talk.

“Oh. Hi,” I say dumbly and then just stare at them.

He tugs the phone from Rylan’s grasp. “What are your intensions with my defenseman?”

“Um…”

“Do you promise to treat him right?”

“Yes…?”

“You don’t sound so sure about that. He’s smitten. Talks about you all the time. It’s really annoying.”

I perk up. Rylan talks about me all the time? I know he said he did with his parents, but I like the thought of being on his mind. Does that mean the whole team knows he’s dating me? Do they all know who I am?

“All right, that’s enough from you,” Rylan says, tackling him to the bed to retrieve his phone. They wrestle around like a couple of teenagers while I’m trying to slow my breathing and not freak out that I’m going to wake up the center of another internet viral story. Nausea swarms like bees in my gut.

“I’ll be back in a little while,” Mads says as Rylan’s face reappears on the screen.

“Hey. I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” I tell him as he sits on the bed. “Does Mads know who I am?”

He gives me a slow, confused nod. “Yeah. He knows you’re my boyfriend. Considering I’ve never had one before, he wanted to officially meet you. If you mean your past, yes to that too. I needed someone to talk to about it when I first found out.”

The bees are wreaking havoc inside me.

“Is that not okay?”

“No. Yes. I mean, it’s fine. It’s just…embarrassing. God, he must think I’m the world’s biggest loser and wonder what you’re doing with me.”

“What? No. He thinks Malcolm is the world’s biggest loser, and he would be correct. Baby, nothing Malcolm did is your fault.”

He’s right, I know that, but man, it’s hard to internalize. Malcolm really did a number on me, and I haven’t been able to get past it…don’t know how not to be embarrassed by it. “Does everyone else on your team know?”

“No. Just Mads. I wouldn’t betray your trust like that. I know you think it’s better to stay secret for now.”

“You don’t?” My heart pounds against my chest. I thought we were on the same page there.

“I do. That came out wrong. It’s smart to be quiet until the end of the season. After that, I’ll follow your lead.”

Follow my lead? First, swoon . Why is Rylan the best? But second, I can’t help feeling like that means if I’m not ready, I’m holding him back from something he wants to do. That’s not cool of me. It makes me a bit of a dick.

“I’m sorry. I’m so bad at this. I don’t know why I can’t just get over it.”

“I do. You’ve been through something traumatic. Someone you cared about hurt you in the worst way. Of course you’re going to struggle with it. I’m not pushing you to do anything…except meet my parents. I’m afraid they’ll murder me if I don’t make that happen.”

He grins, and it automatically makes me do the same. I love that he’s telling me what I need to hear, but also being Rylan about it, not making it a big deal the way my brain always does with things.

“I wish it were easier for me to chill out.” I shift. “But you’re…kinda the best.”

“Hmm? I didn’t hear you. You’re going to have to say it louder.”

“Not happening.”

“Well, I tried,” he teases back. “This isn’t a normal situation. Just dating a hockey player in general and the media scrutiny that can come with it isn’t normal, and that’s for people who don’t have your past. I understand, and I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

God, I love him—wait. Whoa. What? Do I mean that in the real I’m in love with you way or just the buddy, buddy, man, I love you ?

“You look a little green. Are you okay?” Rylan asks as I try not to hyperventilate.

Don’t mind me, just trying to figure out if I’m in love with you. How can I know for sure? How do I know if I’m getting it wrong? I thought I was in love with Malcolm, and I hadn’t been. I tried to tie my life to him, and I’d been wrong. What if I’m wrong with Rylan too? “I’m fine,” I tell him.

“Good. And you can trust Mads. He won’t tell anyone.”

“Do you really want me to meet your parents?” Yet another new experience with Rylan.

“I do, but if you’re not ready—”

“I’ll do it,” I cut him off. I’m scared as shit, but Rylan is being so good to me. He’s trying so hard. I want to do the same with him.

“Okay. When we both get home, then.”

He nods.

I nod.

Then we both laugh.

“How was your day?” Rylan asks.

“Good. My driver on the way to the Rockwell brought up the Malcolm situation. He was trying to be supportive, but…well, you know I’m not the best at socializing. I was all up in my head about it, but then he mentioned how his sister has been through something similar—minus the whole public part—and…” Where am I going with this? Honestly, no idea. “I guess it helped me feel less alone? Not that I want others to have experienced this, but there are a lot of us out there who have. I wonder if they all feel like they did something wrong the way I do.”

I can’t believe I admitted that, but there’s no one I would feel more comfortable sharing it with than Rylan.

“It’s not your fault. It’s easy for me to say and harder for you to believe, and I get that. I understand it, but you didn’t do anything wrong, and I hope you realize how much you’re growing. You would have never admitted that when we first met. This is what life is all about, baby—living, learning, growing. No one has all the answers, even those who sit on the outside and judge. You’re doing your best. Cut yourself some slack, okay?”

His words soothe something inside me. He’s the best thing to ever happen to me, and God, I want to keep him. “Thank you. Wanna talk about tonight? You played a good pucking game.”

He grins like I just gave him the world. Rylan is so easy to make happy. “Did you see when I stripped Wallace of the puck two plays in a row?” He waggles his brows. “I did that for you.”

I laugh, the way only Rylan can make me do. “Of course you did.”

Yep, I totally have a real boyfriend, and I’m gonna do my best to never lose him.