Chapter Twenty-One

A s soon as Clayton steps out of the locker room, I feel my shoulders relax, and I take a breath that I didn't realize I was holding. When he sees me, he starts heading my way.

"Hey," I say softly.

He doesn't respond and pulls me into his arms, hugging me tight.

"Is Beckett going to be okay?"

"Yeah, they think it's just a concussion," he rasps. "They are going to keep him overnight. I asked Coach if I could stay since you brought my car."

He squeezes me tight one more time before pulling back. He reaches down and weaves his fingers through mine.

"Stay with me," he says rather than asks.

"Of course." I smile weakly.

Brett joins us in the hall.

"Hey, good game," I tell him sadly.

They ended up winning the game four to zero, but the image of Beckett falling to the ice will forever stay in my head. It could have been Clayton. That's what scares me most. Of course, I care for Beckett, but my feelings for Clay are so big.

"Thanks. You guys staying?" he asks.

"Yeah. Coach said you and Wyatt can stay too. I can drive us all back tomorrow," Clayton mumbles.

Wyatt walks out next, Kellan following behind him.

"Let's go get a hotel room then," Brett tells Clay.

"You guys are staying?" Kellan asks.

"Beckett's going to need a ride home when they release him," Clay tells him.

"Oh yeah. Okay. Tell him I hope he heals quickly." Kellan shoots me a sad look but doesn't say anything else.

I'm glad for it. I don't have the energy to deal with him.

"Wyatt, you staying too? Coach said you could," Clay tells him.

He only nods.

We walk out of the building and to Clay's car in silence, and Peyton is already waiting in the car for us.

She won't admit it, but seeing Beckett hurt did something to her. She watched on in horror before she excused herself to the car. Looking at her now, I think she's been out here crying. Her eyes look puffy.

Injuries and accidents happen all the time in hockey. It's a high-contact sport, but when it happens, it catches you off guard. When you watch your friend fall to the ground and not get back up it, steals your breath away.

Seeing Beckett lay motionless on the ice for a minute took my breath away. I don't even want to imagine what it did to the guys. Then, after Beckett was carted off and they couldn't go with, they had to keep their heads down and finish the game.

We all pile in the car after informing Peyton what the plan is.

Thankfully, there is a hotel right next to the hospital. Inside, Brett pays for three rooms. I offer to pay for mine and Peyton's, but he refuses.

"You guys go rest. I'm going to check on him," Brett says, proving he is more caring than he lets on.

"I want to come too," Peyton says, not meeting anyone's eyes.

Wyatt, quiet as ever, just heads to the room he is sharing with Brett.

Clay walks me to the room he is staying in.

"The last thing I want right now is to be alone," he confesses.

"Okay, come on," I say as I pull him into the room.

I shut the door behind me. Clay starts to dig in his duffel until he pulls out a change of clothes. His jaw clenches when he turns around and looks at me.

"What's wrong?" I ask as I fight the urge to squirm under his scrutiny.

"What's wrong is that earlier all I could think about is how good you look in my jersey with my number on your cheek, but now I'm so fucking worried about Beckett I can't even enjoy it. It's bullshit."

I can't help it, but a laugh slips out, and I slap my hand over my mouth.

The corner of Clay's mouth tips up. "Oh, you think this is funny?"

"Honestly, maybe a little bit," I say, holding up two fingers with a small gap between them. "Let's be real, this isn't the first time you've seen a woman wearing your jersey."

He shrugs and steps forward, holding out a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. "Yeah, but you're you."

"What does that mean?" I ask as I take the clothes.

"We both know you aren't just anyone. Now put that on so we can crawl into bed."

He starts unbuttoning his dress shirt, and I can't help but step forward.

"Here, let me," I say as I drop the clothes onto his bed and reach for him.

His hands drop to my hips as I step in close. With shaky hands, I start unbuttoning his shirt.

His forehead drops to mine. "You don't have to do this," he rasps.

"Just shut up and let me take care of you for a minute, okay?"

"Okay."

All too soon, I've got his shirt unbuttoned, and I push it off of his shoulders and onto the floor.

"Thank you," he says, brushing his lips against mine.

It's the second kiss we have shared. Even when we were intimate after the Halloween party, we didn't kiss. I want to soak it in.

I close my eyes and savor the feeling. "You're welcome."

When he pulls away, I shake my head and take a deep breath. I move back to the bed and start taking off my clothes and putting the ones he grabbed for me on. Right as I pull the sweatpants up to rest on my hips, I feel Clay move in behind me, pushing me onto the bed.

I crawl over to the other side, and when he gets on, he pulls me in close to him.

"Do you want to watch something?"

"Sure," I murmur against his chest.

Clay grabs the remote off the nightstand and hands it to me. While I turn on the TV and start flipping through the channels, he reaches down and grabs my leg, placing it over his hips.

"Does this look okay?" I ask, stopping on a random show.

"Sure."

We lay in silence and watch TV. By the third commercial break, I can't take it anymore.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I feel Clay let out a slow but steady breath.

"I know he's fine, but that doesn't make it any better."

"Injuries happen all the time," I say quietly.

His hand flexes on my hip. "I know, but today it just made it more real."

I tip my head up and look at him. "What do you mean?"

"All it takes is one injury to ruin it all. I can't risk that. Today was just a reminder of what I have to do."

I nod slowly. "The draft…"

He swallows hard. "The draft."

I look back at the TV as my heart bangs at the idea of him not being around.

"If you enter the draft, I have faith that you'll get drafted and make all your dreams come true. I'll miss you." He squeezes my hip tightly as soon as the words leave my mouth. "But you have my support. One hundred and ten percent." I look back up at him. "I might have to fight your mom and sister for the title of your biggest fan, but I think I'm up for it."

The corner of his mouth twitches. "Thank you."

"Of course, now stop talking. I'm trying to watch this," I say, waving a hand at the TV.

Clay chuckles. "Do you even know what you're watching?"

"Obviously," I lie as I look back at the TV.

We fall silent again and as I feel his breathing even out, I can't help but feel his loss like he's already gone.

I pull up to the house I grew up in and put the car in park. For the first time since the night of the game when I fell asleep holding Grace, I feel like I can breathe. The front door opens, and my mother steps out onto the porch, wiping her hands on a towel.

"Shouldn't you be in class?" she asks as I get out of the car.

I shake my head as I walk toward her. "My last class was canceled."

She raises a brow. "And the team? I'm sure you should be on campus doing something with them."

I lean in and kiss her cheek, the smell of her perfume putting me more at ease. "Don't worry about it, Mom, I cleared coming down here with the coach."

She makes a noise in the back of her throat but keeps her mouth shut.

"How are you?"

"I'm fine. I work in a few hours," she says over her shoulder as she walks inside.

"I know. Where is Cora?" I ask as I look around the place.

My mother raises her brow. "At school, like you should be."

I sigh as I take a seat at the island. "Can't a son just come and see his mother?"

She braces her hands on the counter. "Not in the middle of the day during the middle of the week, he can't. Now spit it out. What's on your mind?"

I run my hands over my thighs as I try to find the words.

"How is Beckett?" she asks when she realizes that the words won't come out.

"Fine." I shrug. "Pissed that the hit knocked him out for a minute, and that it's now on his record."

"How many does that make now?"

"One."

Mom scoffs. "We all know he's had more than one concussion."

"The only ones that matter are the ones that are reported."

Mom shoots me a dirty look. "They should all matter. We're talking about your brains for crying out loud."

"I know, Mom."

"And how are you boys handling watching him go down like that?"

She tilts her head to the side and looks at me thoughtfully. "Are you okay?"

I brace my forearms on the counter and take a deep breath. "Honestly, no."

"You've had friends get hurt before," she points out.

"Yeah, but this is different. It hit closer to home this time and put some things into perspective."

She nods slowly. "The draft."

"I need to get drafted. We both know it. Especially with Cora graduating this year."

Mom avoids eye contact and starts fretting around the kitchen. "It will all work out the way it's supposed to. You can stay at school and get your degree. As for your sister, I'll figure it out."

"Mom…"

She cuts me off, holding up her hand. "I love you, you know I do, but you don't have to rush and join the draft to take care of us. I don't know if you've noticed, but I've been taking care of the two of you for years now on my own."

I close my eyes as guilt runs through my veins. "I know you have, and I appreciate all the sacrifices you've made, but is it so wrong that I want to make your life easier and take care of the two of you?"

Mom rounds the island and cups my face. "It's not wrong, but it's not necessary. I don't want you to rush into something out of obligation. I only want you to do it if it's what you truly want."

"I want to enter the draft."

A sad smile covers her face. "Okay. Then that's what you'll do."

I let out a slow and steady breath as she steps away.

"What does Grace think?"

"Grace?" I ask, caught off guard by the change of subject.

Mom raises a brow. "We both know you've brought it up to her. You can't do anything without approval first."

"She said she would support me." I fight back a smile. "She said she would even fight you and Cora for the title of number one fan."

Mom lets out a bark of laughter. "I'd like to see her try."

I smile as I think about her.

"How are things between you two?"

"We're good."

"Still just friends?"

"We're just friends," I say, even though the words feel sour on my tongue.

Mom rolls her eyes. "Friends, my ass. You two just haven't admitted it to yourselves yet."

I rub my hands over my face. "It's complicated, Mom…"

"Look, that girl has managed to sneak past your walls and make herself at home in your life, something that no other female has ever done. I've seen the way you look at her, you can't tell me that you don't have feelings for her."

"Of course I do."

"Then you better snatch her up while you can, because a woman like Grace won't be on the market forever."

I feel my lips twitch. "Yeah, I think Kellan has figured that out for himself. Grace isn't going along with what he wants anymore and is doing what's best for her."

She points at me. "See, she knows her worth."

I go to open my mouth to say something, but stop when I hear the front door open and close.

"I'm home!" my sister yells through the house.

"Kitchen," Mom hollers.

"Hey, I thought that was your car. What are you doing here?" Cora asks when she sees me.

I throw my hands up in the air. "Seriously, am I not allowed to come home?"

"No," both women say in unison.

"Why are you two always ganging up on me?"

My sister comes over and gives me a hug. "How are you?"

"I'm all right. You?"

"I can't complain."

"School going all right? Do you have any homework?"

She rolls her eyes. "Yes, Dad, school is going fine, and I finished all my homework during study hall."

I cringe. "Please, never call me that again."

She raises a brow. "Then stop acting like it."

"I'll take it under advisement."

"Kids, can you two just get along for five minutes? I just want to enjoy a few hours with my kids before I have to go to work."

"You got it, Mom," I tell her.

My sister nods. "Can do."

"Good, now both of you wash your hands and help me get dinner ready."