Chapter 39
THIRTY-NINE
“I did love you, Hannah. I still do.”
This must be a drug-fueled nightmare because there’s no way Knolls would be saying those words. Not now.
“I loved you, too. At one point in time. But that’s in the past, Jace. I’m happy now. Hopefully, Ryan and I will be staying in Chicago. So, can we at least be civil? I know you moved here with the intention of us getting back together, but that’s not happening.”
Hannah.
Soft, small hands squeeze mine, and I struggle again with my eyelids. What the hell did they give me? Everything feels hazy, distant.
“I know that… Maybe one day we can be friends again?”
I can picture Hannah’s skeptical expression as silence fills the air. There’s a long pause before she finally responds, “We’ll see.”
Even in my drugged-up haze, I hear the hesitation in her voice, and I wish I could speak. I attempt to say her name, my mouth barely cooperating, but I must manage something because she responds with a soft “Ryan,” and a kiss to the hand she’s holding.
When I finally win the battle with my eyelids, her face is the first thing I see. My vision sharpens, locking onto green. Grassy green. Rolling hills of green. Four-leaf-clover green. “Green is my favorite color,” are the first words out of my mouth.
Her responding giggle is my favorite sound, though I manage to keep that to myself. “You’re here. How long have I been out?” I ask instead.
Hannah smiles at me, but Knolls is the one who answers, “About an hour.”
For one blissful minute, I forgot about him. “What’re you doing here?” I can’t help the scowl I throw his way.
“Uh, I wanted to apologize… I know you probably think I hit you on purpose, but I didn’t. I don’t expect you to believe me, but it’s true. So, yeah, I just wanted to… I don’t know, clear the air?”
I’ve got to say, him trying to apologize is the last thing I expected. And even if he’s pretty terrible at it, I believe him. I was looking down as I came out of the offensive zone, trying to avoid an offside call and not paying close enough attention. It was a dumb way to get injured, and I can’t put all the blame on him.
I’m hoping Coach sees this as a failed experiment and goes back to our original lines. That is if I’m even still here next season. I glance down at my arm, supported by a sling, and the weight of it hits me. I might’ve just screwed what little chance I had.
They were already dragging their feet on an offer—are they really going to want to re-sign me now, with a chance I won’t be ready for the start of next season? I don’t know the details of my recovery plan yet, but I know I’ll be out for months.
“Ryan?” Hannah’s voice cuts through my thoughts, reminding me that I’ve left Knolls hanging.
“It’s cool. I know it was an accident,” I tell him.
Knolls gives that awkward continuous nod, clearly working up the nerve to say whatever else is on his mind. I’ve got to admit, seeing him rattled is kind of satisfying. Not that I trust whatever he’s about to say, but still, it’s nice to see him sweat for a change.
“I’m also sorry about everything else,” Knolls mutters, so low I barely catch it.
“About what?” I ask, even though I know exactly what he means. Sue me, but I want to hear the words come out of his mouth. After seven years of knowing the guy, and six of hating him, I’m going to soak up all the apologies he’ll give me. And he owes me a few.
“Well, for starters, moving in on Hannah when I knew you were pretty much in love with her. Could’ve avoided all the other things I need to apologize for if I’d never done that…”
I let out an unamused huff. “No shit.” But then I catch myself. Hannah is sitting right here, and I’ve never told her how deeply my feelings ran, or how long I’ve had them for her. Sure, I told her I had a crush in college, but “crush” doesn’t scratch the surface of how badly I had it for her back then—and now.
I glance her way, searching for any sign of how she’s taking this. She saves me the stress with a soft smile. “He kinda told me before you woke up,” she says. I lift her hand to my lips.
“Go on,” I say, failing to hide the smugness in my voice as I turn my attention back to Knolls.
“I’m sorry for all of it, okay? I’m not going to interfere with your relationship or your contract. I was stupid to think I could.” He runs his hand down his face, muttering something under his breath that I barely catch, but it sounds like, “Not that my dad would listen anyway.”
I knew his sincerity would only go so far, but it’s better than nothing, I guess. As long as he sticks to his word and stays out of our business, I’ll be happy. But right now, I wish he’d leave so I can have a moment alone with Hannah.
“All right, thanks,” I say, hoping he’ll catch on and leave.
“Yeah, all right. Hope your arm’s okay. See ya.” He finally stands, offering a small awkward wave before heading out the door.
As soon as the door clicks shut, Hannah says what I’m thinking, “Well, that was weird.”
“Very fucking weird. You think aliens took over his body or something?”
We both laugh at the absurdity of his change of conscience. His departure takes with it the tension that previously filled the room.
But all too soon the worry creeps back into Hannah’s expression. “Are you really okay?”
“Yeah, Sunshine. They gave me the good drugs.”
She swats my uninjured shoulder, only to immediately cringe. “Oh crap. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Come here.” I grab her hand and tug her toward me until she’s forced to sit on the edge of the hospital bed.
“I’m gonna hurt you,” she protests, yet cuddles into my side. Her head rests on my chest, and her leg is thrown over mine. I breathe in the familiar scent of her coconut and vanilla shampoo and press a soft kiss to the top of her head.
“Thanks for coming to be my nurse.” I try to keep my tone light, but my voice cracks. Fuck, why do I feel so emotional? It must be the drugs. “You didn’t have to, but I’m glad you did.”
I feel her smile against my chest, her fingers tracing idle patterns on the hospital gown they insisted I wear. “How’re you feeling? Not physically… but with all of this.”
As the pain medicine works its way out of my system, the thoughts of what this all really means come rushing in. Do I even have a future in hockey now? What team is going to sign me? I’ll be out for months recovering from this injury. Will I even fully recover? How complicated is the surgery? What if something goes wrong? Then how will I support Hannah? Our future family?
“Hey, hey,” Hannah says, bringing my attention back to her. “I know that face. You’re spiraling, and we’re not doing that. No matter what lies ahead of us, we’re gonna be okay.”
“Are you a mind reader now?” I joke, trying to relieve the lump forming in my throat.
“For your mind, yeah, maybe. I know all your tells,” she says softly.
“Oh, yeah? Like what?”
She brings her finger and touches the spot between my eyebrows. “You get these little lines here. It looks like you’re thinking too hard, like you’re trying to solve a complex calculus equation.” She kisses the spot before moving her fingers to the corner of my mouth. “And here, your lips tip down just a fraction. Not enough to look sad, but enough to let me know you’re worried.” She kisses that spot, too.
When she pulls back, my gaze catches on her lips, and watching them transform into a smile makes it impossible to feel anything but grateful.
I meet her eyes, and they look as glassy as mine feel.
A memory flashes in my mind.
It was back when we moved in with Greg and Mia. Trying to figure out where I fit in, I asked my mom, “Why? How do you know they won’t leave us, too?” I still remember how her gaze was as reflective as fresh ice, the same look I see in Hannah now. My mom’s voice was hoarse when she said, “Oh, baby. They’re not going anywhere. Greg sees me, and he sees you, too. To see, and to be seen, is the truest nature of love.”
I now know it wasn’t my mom who came up with those words, but some motivational speaker. Still, they stuck with me, mostly because I had no idea what they meant, only that she was right. They never left. I’m not sure I fully comprehended the meaning until this very moment.
To be seen the way Hannah sees me. Completely. The good, the bad, and the ugly. And to stay—that’s love.
I’ve yet to let her say the words, too scared they could be taken away. But right now, in this moment, I know they’re true. She sees me. She loves me. The same way I see her. Love her.
The plea to hear her say those three words nearly escapes my lips, but instead, I murmur, “Kiss me.” And she does, leaning up until her lips meet mine. I feel them curve into a smile, and for the first time since my body slammed into the ice, I know it’s all gonna be all right.
Hannah and I fly back to Chicago the next day and head straight to see the team doctor, who confirms I need surgery, and the sooner the better. They explain the recovery timeline: a few days on bedrest post-surgery, followed by three-to-six weeks in a sling, and then physical therapy. I can expect to be playing hockey in six months, worst-case scenario, and in four months at best. Which means if all goes well, I’ll be playing by next season’s opener. Silver lining, I guess, that my injury happened at the end of the season.
Not seeing any point in delaying the inevitable, I head into surgery on Monday. I’m relieved to wake up with Hannah by my side and the news of no complications. The next two days are a blur of bedrest and boredom. Hannah hovers like a watchdog, refusing to let me do anything remotely strenuous. On day three, I’m itching to move, but she shoots down every attempt. By day five, her resolve finally cracks. One thing leads to another and we make love.
Making love may be a stretch seeing as I can’t use my right arm, but whatever it is, it’s mind blowing. Sex with Hannah is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. I’m addicted.
As she lays in my arms, both of us still coming down, I brush her sweaty hair out of her eyes.
“I’m glad you were my last and not my first. I don’t think I could give you up,” she murmurs against my chest.
“I wish I were both, but I agree with the sentiment.” I chuckle.
She lets out a small sigh. “I feel a little better.”
“I’m doing something wrong if you only feel a little better.”
She playfully slaps my chest with a giggle. “You know what I mean.”
“I do. The surgery went well, and Knolls has been radio silent. It’s nice. Fox texted me the other day, sounds like they ended up giving Knolls a three-game suspension for the hit, since he got me from behind. I guess they’re not buying his ‘I didn’t see him’ excuse.”
“Good, he deserves it. At the very least, it was reckless, if not malicious. Do you feel any relief?” she asks, worrying her bottom lip. “I know you still have the recovery to deal with.”
“Yeah, now I only have my contract to worry about.” I pause, then add, “What do you think about New Jersey?” I try to gauge her reaction, but her expression is unreadable.
“What do you think about it? Is it something you’re considering?”
“It’s a better offer than I’ll probably get from Chicago… if one even comes. But you’re here, and I know you’ve worked so hard to set everything up for your rescue. I’m worried about the distance. Would you even be okay with long distance?”
“No.”
My heart clenches in my chest.
Losing her after everything we’ve been through—it’s unthinkable. If it comes down to choosing between her and a career move, the answer is simple: I’d choose her. Every time. Is it the ideal solution? No, but I just don’t think I’d be happy leaving her behind to play hockey.
She rubs my chest, her fingers gliding over my nipple, sending an inconvenient twinge to my dick. “I’d go with you, Ry,” she says softly. “We only just started this, and I’m not ready to give it up. Would it be inconvenient? Sure, but now that I have everything set up and most of the funding to support the rescue, I can do it from anywhere. If it’s something you’re seriously considering, I should probably rethink my launch party?—”
“No,” I cut her off, refusing to entertain that option. She deserves to celebrate what she’s been working so hard for, and I want to honor her accomplishments the same way she does mine.
“We could do long distance, but I don’t want to. I want to wake up with you in the morning and fall asleep with you at night,” she says.
I guide her on top of me, positioning her so she’s straddling my lap. She’s careful to keep weight off my shoulder as she brings her lips down to meet mine, gently tugging on the hair at the nape of my neck. I savor her mouth, letting the realization sink in—I get to do this for the rest of my life.
She’s mine.
Which brings to mind the fact that I still have to make it official. With taking it easy, I’ve had nothing but time to think of the perfect way to do it, yet nothing feels good enough.
She pulls back, glancing over at my phone on the nightstand. “As much as I want to continue this, aren’t you supposed to be at the arena?”
I check my watch. “Fuck, yes.”
I should be on my way to the arena by now. There are only thirteen games left of the regular season, and although I won’t be playing in any of them, I want to show my support from the team’s box.
It’s not a requirement when you’re out on injured reserve—something Fox took full advantage of—but just because I’m unsure of my future with the team doesn’t mean I’m not going to show my support while I’m still here.
I steal another quick kiss before hopping out of bed and heading into the hall. With the door open, Fred barrels toward the bed, ignoring me in favor of his favorite human. “Enjoy the warm sheets,” I mutter. He snuggles into the spot I vacated and curls up by Hannah’s side. With a shake of my head, I continue to my room to grab my suit.
“Hey,” I shout across the space separating us. “You think I should move into your room? Ya know, since you want to wake up with me every day and all.”
Her breathy laugh echoes back before she yells, “Yeah, that might be nice.”