36. Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Six

Luke

I’m extremely annoyed that Coach told me to wait outside. It’s been five minutes and thirty-two seconds since he closed the door behind him and Cody with a ‘ We’ll just be a minute, Carrington ’ thrown in my direction. Cody’s postoperative recovery has been going to plan so far and we got home three nights ago with a ton of instructions, a list of dos and don’ts , and a follow-up consultation scheduled for next week. The first out of many. I know the surgical team will be following Cody’s recovery closely, along with a team of dedicated physiotherapists. Everything has been set in motion; there’s an entire game plan ready when an NHL player is injured.

Everyone around us is acting with the utmost level of professionalism, and still, I know that to Cody, I’ve become his anchor in all this. I see it in his wary eyes and hear it in his frail voice when he calls out for me. And I don’t mind. I don’t mind at all. I want to be his anchor. The one he can count on and be certain will always be there for him. I want to be that person. Cody’s person. I’ve never thought in terms of always before, but I realize that’s just because I didn’t know Cody yet. Now that I do, there’s no way I can ever think of him and not automatically add always to that equation. I will always be there for you, Cody. I will always have your back. You can always count on me. I will always love you. Fuck. I suck in a breath. I love him so much. It’s ridiculous to think that there was a time when I didn’t know this amazingly beautiful boy.

I check my watch again. Six minutes and forty-two seconds. Wrap it up, Coach. Wrap. It. Up. I’m back on the ice tonight, playing my first game post-op and post-suspension. I can’t wait. I have enough pent-up energy to light up a midsize desert city and I’m just ready to get out there and help the team finish off a season that has been turbulent, to say the least. We started out playing like a group of dilettantes and then Cody came along, and everything changed. I know it’s not just him because the team played well against Montreal. Still, in my mind, it seems like he’s the cause of everything good coming my way lately. Everything has changed for the better because of him. Even with this small bump in the road, my life feels complete with Cody in it.

As much as I try to make out individual words or phrases through the closed door, it’s impossible. Their voices are muffled, which must be a good sign, I guess. Or maybe it’s a bad sign. Maybe Cody is speechless because Coach has just told him they’re dropping him. Shit, what if he’s crying? What if he needs me? My hands grab the sides of the plastic chair and as much as I try to contain myself, I already know it’s a lost cause. In a matter of seconds, I leap from the chair and throw the door to Coach’s office open. Storming in like a madman, I shout, “If you trade him, you might as well trade me, too. Wherever he goes, I go!” Cody looks up at me in horror, his cheeks flushed, and his eyes red-rimmed. I knew it! I fucking knew it. Coach made him cry. “Why’s Cody crying?” I pant, pointing at Coach, my hand trembling.

“Luke,” Cody starts, a weak smile spreading along his lips, and I guess it can’t be all bad if he’s smiling. It’s not the broad, carefree smile that I’ve gotten used to over the past few months. The one that can light up an entire rink and then some. The one that sends sparks flying through my body. But it’s better than Cody crying. Anything is better than Cody crying. Unless it’s a smile of resignation. Though it doesn’t look like that kind of smile.

“Hold on to your panties, kid. No one is being traded, and no one is going anywhere,” Coach brushes a hand through his black beard while he throws me a now sit your ass down look. I scramble toward the chair next to Cody and my fingers itch to grab his hand. I feel myself deflate, my inner warrior crawling back into his cave as Coach continues, his voice steady. “This meeting is to set up a recovery plan for Cody that focuses on his mental well-being and how to communicate with the press. And to make sure that Cody is involved every step of the way in decision-making.” Coach looks between the both of us, a fond look in his eyes. “Even if management were set on dropping or trading Mitchell—”

“They wanna tra—” I blurt, but Coach holds up his hand between us.

“Jesus Christ, Carrington! Will you just listen for a second?”

“Luke,” Cody says softly next to me. “It’s okay, Luke.” A tentative smile curls at the left corner of his mouth, and it instantly calms me down. He’s smiling. Cody’s smiling and although it doesn’t reach his eyes, I find relief dwelling in two pools of gray.

“Cody is not being traded,” Coach continues. “Are you outta your damn mind, kid? No way. He’s one of the top three goalies in the league right now. We ain’t tradin’ him.” Relief courses through my chest. I trust Coach Bassey. Always have. He’s never given me any reason not to.

“Top three goalies?” I repeat lamely, with what’s probably a goofy-ass expression on my face when I look at Cody. He just shakes his head at me, biting back a smile. I mean, to me, he’s the best, of course he is, but to hear Coach put it like this. I don’t know, it just makes it real somehow. That Cody truly is in a league of his own. And he’s only twenty-three. Just imagine where he can take it.

“I already talked to management. We’re getting close to the end of the season and there’s no reason to make any major changes at this point. When McKinney’s back, Cody will be ready to start practicing. We’ll have three goalies then and will be able to give Cody a slow and careful comeback.” He nods at Cody, a softness in his eyes that I never thought I’d witness in Coach Bassey’s eyes. “We can always pull an extra goalie up from AHL if we need it when the season starts, and Cody is not 100%.”

“I already talked to Coach about supervising the goalie training regime while I’m out,” Cody says, and I can hear the edge of relief in his voice. Of happiness, too. “To keep me motivated,” he adds. “Coach says it’ll be good for my mental well-being that I still feel like I’m part of the team.” Shit, I want to drop to my knees right this minute and just worship Coach.

For perhaps the first time in my life, I find myself dumbfounded.

“You thought of everything,” I croak, my eyes meeting Coach’s, and I hope he can hear the utter gratitude in my voice. Tears press behind my eyes, and I swallow, trying to push them back. At least, for now.

“That’s my job, kid. That’s why they pay me the big bucks,” he smirks. “Your job is to finish the season on the ice and not in the penalty box. To keep playing the way you’ve been playing so far. Like a goddamn winner.” He pauses, looking at Cody. “And to keep our boy positive, healthy, and motivated. All right? Are we clear, Carrington?”

“Yes. Crystal, Coach. Thank you, sir,” I mumble, my tongue heavy in my mouth.

“Anytime, kid. Anytime.” Cody clears his throat next to me, his eyes searching mine. There’s a silent question in his eyes, a question that’s also been on my mind ever since that night in the hospital. How much did Coach notice? How much does he know? I shrug at Cody, mouthing, it’s your call, baby. Cody tips his chin at me, love and pride flashing through his eyes as his cheeks grow a shade pinker. Then he licks his lips.

“Okay. So… there’s something else we need to talk about,” Cody says tentatively, twisting his hands in his lap.

“What is it, kid?” Coach tilts his head as he leans back in his chair.

“That…” Cody hesitates, shifting next to me.

“That we’re together,” I say.

“Oh, that?” Coach hums. “Yeah, you’re right. If it’s serious…” he looks between Cody and me, his fingers tapping against his desk. “Is it serious, boys?”

“It is!” we both blurt at the same time, Cody laughing, relief clear in his voice.

“Yeah? Kinda thought so, too,” Coach says, leaning back, the chair complaining beneath him. Folding his arms in front of his chest, he continues, “So, you need to inform management. And decide if you want to go public or keep it under the radar for now. In any case, management needs to know in case the media catches on. They need to have a game plan ready.” The small office goes eerily quiet after Coach’s words. I search Cody’s face, but there’s no shred of fear or panic. He looks almost serene as he smiles at me.

“It’s up to you, baby,” I swallow, completely forgetting myself and that we’re not alone.

“I think the team oughta know too,” Cody says. “I mean, they probably already put two and two together, but I think they oughta know. Officially.”

“I agree,” I nod. “I don’t want them to feel blindsided if— when —the press catches on. Besides, I don’t want to hide. Do you?” Cody shakes his head, his blond locks sweeping through the air, and I catch his familiar scent.

“No,” he smiles. “I don’t either.” Time seems to expand as I share a look with Cody that entails so much, but that can be summed up with I love you and we’re in this together.

Coach clears his voice, pulling us out of our love-induced haze. Clasping his hands together, he booms, “That’s settled, then! I’ll inform management and you kids can tell the team on your own time. Now, get the hell outta my office,” he winks. “I’ve got work to do and you kids are just too damn cute and sugary for my taste. I’ll end up with a case of diabetes if I’m not careful.”