20. Tyler

"Hey, sweetheart." Mum's voice was like salve to a wound. It felt like we hadn't had a proper conversation in weeks and with the lyrical questions that came through the line, I felt like a kid again. I answered each one with enthusiasm, letting her hear how excited I was about my success so far. Her praise made all the pain worth it. I was winning games, drawing attention for my skill and I hadn't truly taken a moment to absorb it all. Because the second I stepped off that ice, I was planning the next one, berating myself for every little mistake. I knew I was doing it, but I wouldn't get where I needed to be by taking it easy. I couldn't let her down.

"So, that's hockey covered—I'm not surprised you're excelling in that department. But what about friends, or maybe… girlfriend? Or a boyfriend?"

I opened the door to the dorm quickly, hoping no one overheard. Cal stood in the kitchen, humming to his music while staring into the open fridge like it would materialize what he wanted.

"Ooh, is that Mama Riley?"

Most times, I strategically made it to my room for calls home. I wasn't embarrassed by Cal, but after the last encounter with Holden, I didn't trust him to keep his mouth shut.

"Oh, is that your roommate? Let me see!" Mum's bright eyes widened, and I bit back a curse. They'd both been excited to meet each other—even it if were only a video call.

As if that were invitation enough, my phone was ripped from my hand. Boundaries were something we needed to discuss—quickly.

"Hey Mama Riley! Oh, your son didn't mention how gorgeous you are!"

I groaned, letting him have the spotlight as I grabbed a water from the fridge.

"Oh, you are too sweet. I hear you torture my son with Taylor Swift music. I thank you for your service. He might pretend it's annoying but it makes him feel right at home."

"We both know he sings her songs in the shower."

My cheeks were on fire. "I do not!"

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Ty."

"It's okay Mrs. Riley, he seems to like the closet. Closet Swiftie, closet gay—maybe one day we'll get him out of there."

I gaped.

Mum laughed.

My stomach fell through the floor.

Cal never once looked at me, continuing on as if he hadn't just outed me to my mum.

"Aha! So you know who he's seeing? What's he like? Do we like him?"

"All broody but heart eyes only for your boy. It's cute."

"Cal, give me the phone." He looked at me, not a shred of guilt on his face. Though I hoped my anger was written all over mine.

"Ty don't be mad…"

"Cal, give me the phone." I bit my words through clenched teeth, blood pulsing in my ears

"Fine, I was just giving you the little push you needed. You won't talk to me about him I thought you would with your family."

"That was for me to decide, Callum." I snatched my phone, not even caring about the hurt that crossed his eyes.

"Tyler!" Mum gasped.

"What, Mum?"

I turned the phone back to me, not bothering to hide my anger.

Her face fell and she started to speak as my brother stepped into view. I shook my head, hoping I could stop her before it was too late but it was in vain. "Tyler, Cal's right—you can talk to me. I thought after our last conversation you'd know that I love you regardless of if you're gay or not."

I watched Jamie's face contort. "You're gay?"

Before I could respond, he rounded the couch to get closer to the phone. "How long have you known? Were you ever going to tell me? Or was that something else you were going to protect me from?"

"I- I didn't want you to feel like you lost a role model in me."

"You thought I would care? You think that I would look at you less because you fuck men? Is that how little you think of me?"

"Jamie, it's not like that." That temper of his flared. His jaw twitched, his eyes blazed.

"Yeah, right. You know what, Tyler? I didn't just lose Dad the day he died. I lost you. You stopped being you. You stopped being my best friend. Now you keep secrets and talk down to me like I'm a kid. I might be younger than you but you aren't the only one who had to grow up the day he died."

My chest ached, desperate for the air that caught in my throat. I watched my brother storm out, the echo of the front door slamming ringing in my ears.

Mum tried to break the tension. "Tyler—"

"Forget it, Mum. Just… forget it." I ended the call and threw the phone across the couch. The lack of a satisfying crash only made my blood boil more.

I saw Cal approaching from the corner of my eye.

"Don't, don't come near me, mate. When will you ever learn to keep your fucking mouth shut?"

"I thought they knew—"

"You know what they say about assuming."

I got up and stormed to my room, changing back into my gym gear and stuffing my feet into my sneakers. I headed for the door. "Where are you going? Didn't you just finish training, shouldn't you be resting?"

"I'll rest when I'm dead."

"With the way you're going, that'll be sooner than you think." Cal snapped back. In return, I slammed the door in his face.

I barely slept. Despite being exhausted from way too much exercise, my mind just wouldn't relent. I'd tried calling Jamie—more than once. I just needed to know that we were okay. His words played over in my mind like a hit of crystal, keeping me wired as they seeped into every corner of my mind. I was one step away from bailing on the game and flying home.

As if the universe knew, my phone lit up with Mum's name. I contemplated ignoring her call—even though it wasn't entirely her fault. I wasn't even mad at Cal anymore. It was my secret that caused Jamie to be upset

"Hey, Ma," I sighed.

"Have you heard from your brother? He hasn't come home." The panicked tone in her voice had me bolting out of bed.

With nowhere to go, I paced in a circle around the room. "What? No? I have been trying to call him to clear the air."

I could hear her heavy breathing. "Okay, don't worry, he might just be… I'll find him, get some rest. Good luck on your game tomorrow."

"You think I'm going to rest without knowing he's okay? I'll call around, see if anyone can help find him."

There was a pause while she mulled over my offer. With a sigh, she relented.

"Thank you. I'm sorry. If I could drive, I would be out looking for him."

I frowned. "If you could drive?"

She let out a breath, one she'd been holding for way too long.

"I told Jamie not to tell you. I got in a bingle the other day. No one was hurt, minimal damage. I blacked out just for a moment. They took my license off me because the chemo is making me unfit to drive. I can try and get it back, but the doctors want me to finish this treatment and see how I recover."

My knees buckled, I dropped back onto the bed. My hand fisted my hair. Why am I even here? I needed to be home.

It was my turn to sigh. "I'll call the guys and get them to help. But no more secrets. There's no point in breaking up this family even more."

"Thanks, Ty. I am sorry, so sorry. I'm failing you both." I didn't need to see her to know she was crying.

"You're not. We're lucky to have you. I'll find him. Love you."

I disconnected the call and dialed Holden immediately.

"Mate, isn't it like two a.m.?"

"Have you seen Jamie?"

The line went silent.

"Not since yesterday. I took him to his training and dropped him home. Why?"

I explained everything and Holden spit out a curse. "Fuck, okay bro. I'm getting in my car now. He didn't mean all that, you know. He loves you. All he talks about is how much he misses you. He just wants you to let him in on your life, not you just worry about his."

"It's hard, okay? He hasn't been himself since we lost Dad, and now we are losing Mum, and I just felt like I need to protect him. I can't lose him too, Holden, I see that look in his eyes, and I worry that one day he might…"

"He wouldn't," came Holden's gruff voice. "I would never let him do that."

Despite everything, my lips tugged into a grin. It meant the world knowing someone like Holden was looking out for him.

"I'll find him, Ty, don't you worry. We are not losing him."

The last bit sounded more for him than me. The call ended and I simply sat on my bed looking at my screen. I wasn't a praying man, but I couldn't help sending a silent call to anyone who would listen that my little brother was okay.

The mirror reflected my exhaustion. Dark circles seemed insignificant compared to the fog that surrounded me. It had been three hours and there had been no sign of my brother. I needed to be at the rink in an hour and a half. I couldn't move. I was frozen in place, waiting for the call, while also hoping it didn't come. My mind swirled with all the possible outcomes—most of them not good.

I left the bathroom and shuffled to the kitchen. If I was going to be dumb enough to play this game, I needed some fuel in my system.

"Any news?" Cal tentatively asked as I entered the kitchen.

I shook my head and mindlessly prepared the breakfast I may not be able to eat.

I stood at the bench, pushing my egg white omelette around the plate.

"Ty, you need to get going, I can be on call for your family if you would like?"

"I am not going until I get a call."

"You'll get kicked off the team if you don't show. Then all of this would have been for nothing."

For the first time ever, I dumped my full plate in the sink and grabbed my bag, wondering why exactly I was doing this.

Then my phone rang. It was Holden. I wondered if something happened to Jamie, who it would be to call me. I closed my eyes, and hesitated. If it was bad news, I wasn't sure I wanted to know.

"Ty?" I tried not to read into the tired tone of Holden's voice.

"Found him."

"And?"

"He's fine. He's going to stay with me for a while just to have a break. He isn't…" There was a deep sigh that followed that told me too much.

"I'm coming home."

"No, you're not. I am perfectly capable of this. You need to finish what you started. If any of us is going to go pro, it's you. He wants that for you, you know? He tells me all the time. He just misses what you had before… you know."

"How bad is he? Be honest."

"He isn't great. He thinks you're too focused on protecting him to be his big brother anymore. He just wants that back. Give him time, then call him and just be real with him. Tell him about your man, about your life, and he'll be happy to open up to you. He'll feel less alone."

"I don't know how to be okay when he isn't, Hold. I can't lose him."

"You won't, I have him. I promise you that. I will always have him. But right now he just needs some time for himself. Your mum's chemo is really bad so your auntie is moving in to help."

I checked the time and groaned. "Okay, I have to get to the rink; I'm running late. But please keep me updated, on all of them. I fucking hate this, man."

"I know you do, but trust me. They're my family too. You've done so much for me—the least I can do is let you have this. Just win that game."

I'd never been so late to the ice in my life. My head was a mess, and I was just trying to focus on the last words Holden said. I need this win. I didn't miss the look on my teammates' eyes as I approached. I was never late, and I could tell I looked less than stellar. When Hunter's eyes met mine and widened I knew I looked like a train wreck.

He rushed over and grabbed my elbow, dragging me behind the private wall of the showers. "Dude, I've been calling you. Where have you been?"

I shoved him away and went to my locker. Ignoring his questioning look, I dropped my bag with a ceremonious thud as I started to strip.

Hunter returned to my side, backed by Mouse and Jarman.

I angrily put on my gear as they waited for an explanation for my tardiness. "Yes?"

"Dude, you're never late," Mouse admonished. "Was it the bird you were on the phone with when you left yesterday?"

I should kick his ass for referring to my mum as a bird… I shook away the thought—humor aside that wouldn't get us anywhere. "I slept in. I was uh, distracted last night and forgot to set my alarm."

"Bullshit," Hunter spat. "You don't sleep in—no matter how distracted you were the night before." I spun and shot him with a look that I hoped sent daggers into Hunter's skin. Jarman's eyebrows lifted in response and if I wasn't late, I would be taking Hunter somewhere to bash his head in.

Mouse ooh-ed and the very small thread I was holding onto snapped."I was up late dealing with family shit. Can you please let me get ready? I want to be on the ice for warm-up."

Jarman and Mouse jostled me affectionately and headed to their stalls to finish taping their sticks. With them gone, my mask began to slip. Those same cries from earlier echoed in my mind. Hunter, as if he could read my thoughts, sidled in as close as he could without drawing the attention of the others.

He was so close that his breath tickled my cheek when he spoke. "I get it baby, you're homesick. But remember why you're here, what you're trying to achieve. You've been on top of your game all week, making plays, calling them out. You came here for the big leagues and you're going to take them by storm. You've already got people talking, and today they'll see you blindsiding UMass with those Aussie moves."

His words soothed my skin. Washed over me like his lips did when we were in bed together. Each word, each brush of his lips soothed the itch that crawled underneath—the one that made me want to get on the next flight home. It brought me back to the present, where Hunter was close enough to really take my mind off everything.

He cupped the back of my neck, briefly but firmly enough to do what I wished his lips could. "You got this, baby. Head in the game. Think about the ring of that buzzer when you get a goal, the buzz of the crowd, the sound of your pads slamming against your opponent. Everything else will be right where you left it: outside of this locker room."

Then his hand was gone along with the kiss of his breath. He sat next to me, taping up his stick like the others.

I did exactly as he told me: got my head in the game, forgetting all about the way he brought me back down to Earth with his touch alone.

Hunter's words were on repeat in my head as I hit the ice and between the cold air and solid ground, I'd never felt more centered.

Warm-up was a blur. Hunter kept me on my toes by testing all of my blind spots. Thankfully, Cap didn't dare make anymore digs towards my plays or what I'd been teaching the guys.

The first-period buzzer rang with a play that I'd practiced with Amon. Colton was under the thumb of a pesky Umass defenseman, leaving me with Amon on the right wing and Hunter backing me, reading the play perfectly to keep me clear. The puck flew between Amon's legs, pulling it forward for the shot.

I knew this goalie—I'd watched his every game, saw the way he favored his right side. He was ready for that puck. What he wasn't ready for, was Amon's new footwork. There was a slap of puck meeting stick, but not from Amon. His almost pirouette sent the puck to me with his skate while his stick looked like a follow-through. and I watched as the sound registered in the goalie's ears and he lunged right—but his reaction time was too slow as I hurled the puck into the top left corner.

Hunter wrapped me up from behind yelling, "That's it, baby!" in my ear before Amon skated over to knock his helmet into mine.

"We did it, Aussie!"