Chapter 19
NINETEEN
CANE
After fighting sleep throughout the first flight and most of the second, Harley finally dozed off, her head on my shoulder.
Her neck is bent, and she doesn’t look comfortable, but I don’t want to move her because she needs to rest, even if this flight is nearly over.
Today could be a long one, and every minute counts.
As much as I love to see her smile, I haven’t spent the past six hours trying to put one on her face because I know that won’t make things any better.
When my dad died and one of his friends came over to pay his condolences, he kept trying to lighten the mood, but it was useless.
I didn’t want the mood lightened. My dad was dead; there was no making light of that.
The girl is about to lose her father, and if she wants to be sad, I’m going to let her be sad.
Coach wasn’t exactly thrilled with me, but when I told him a close friend’s dad was dying and I didn’t want her to be alone, he couldn’t be too pissed off that I would be missing practices this weekend. Though, if this were during the actual season, he might have wanted to kill me.
I look down at her while keeping my body as still as possible, not wanting to startle her. Strands of red hair fall over her face, and her snores are barely audible.
I wish I had known sooner what she was going through, but she never mentioned that her dad was sick, so I had no idea of it.
When my dad died, we hadn’t gotten to say goodbye because it was a car accident—one where he was driving to pick me up from practice.
My whole life, I’ve carried the guilt of that around.
Some days, it’s almost like a gnawing pain in my stomach, eating away at me bit by bit.
Other times, I try to push it from my mind.
Even on those days, it’s still … there. Always.
The pilot makes the announcement that we’ve begun our descent and will be landing shortly, causing Harley to stir.
I’ve never been much for flying, but I’ve spent the past two flights so distracted by what’s going on in Harley’s life that I haven’t once convinced myself that the plane is going down, like I normally do.
Slowly, she wipes her eyes and lifts her head up—quicker when she realizes it’s my shoulder that it’s resting on.
“How long have I been out?” she asks, fighting a yawn.
“Not very long,” I murmur. “About forty-five minutes, I’d say.” I grin slightly. “The dude behind us has kicked both of our seats about ten fucking times. I was ready to break his legs off if he woke you up.”
She rolls her eyes, but the corner of her lips turns up subtly, and she taps her hand against my chest. “Easy, tough guy. I don’t want to be featured on a TikTok reel later with the guy who gets into a fight on the plane.
” She lifts a brow. “Besides, people are starting to leave you alone. And I know you don’t check your socials much anymore, but the comment section is back to being pretty positive.
” She frowns. “I mean, did you lose thousands of followers? Yes. But still … things are looking better.”
“All because NEU’s beloved catcher is my friend.” I wink. “Look at you, Catch. Out here, saving one asshole’s reputation at a time.”
Her eyes lock with mine, and I swear she’s looking right through me—seeing everything I’ve always worked hard to hide.
“Yeah, here’s the thing,” she whispers. “After actually spending time with you, I don’t see how in the world you could have ever done what you admitted to doing.”
Out of all the things I expected her to say, that wasn’t one of them.
My brother? Sure. Cash knows me. He knows I have a tendency to jump in front of a moving bus to stop it from hitting other people.
But Harley? She doesn’t know me that well.
Not in that sense at least. And yet, with her eyes burning into mine, I know she’s calling bullshit on it all.
I could tell her she’s wrong. I could change the subject or come up with a lie. And if I was talking to anyone else right now, I would. In this moment though, I don’t know why … but I know I can trust her.
“It was my fault, Catch,” I murmur, tilting my head closer to hers. “That’s what matters most.”
Her eyes narrow a tiny bit. So small that most people wouldn’t notice. She examines me, searching my face for some sort of tell.
I may have a poker face with everyone else, but with her … fuck, it’s hard.
“Because you drove there,” she whispers, almost like she’s asking a question. “You drove there, not knowing that was your teammates’ plan.”
Exhaling, I look straight forward at the seatback in front of me.
“Cane,” she whispers, putting her hand on my arm, “you took the fall for something you hadn’t done.
You … you ruined your reputation to help out your teammates.
” She pauses, keeping her hand on my arm, and I fucking feel that touch in my entire body.
“Why would you do that? Even if you did drive, it still wasn’t your fault. ”
I’m quiet for a moment, knowing we’re getting closer to landing with every moment that passes.
And the second this plane’s wheels touch that pavement, she’ll have to worry about her dad again.
Until then, even if it’s five minutes or, hell, thirty seconds from now, I can take her mind off that with this.
“My stepdad is a retired NHL player. My biological dad may be gone, but I have Tripp and my mom. So, I have the best parents,” I say, still not looking at her.
“Tripp is an assistant coach for the hockey team and my family …” I pause, sighing before I finally look at her.
“I am a lot more fortunate than a lot of the guys I play with, Harland. Some of them? They have no family. At least not one they can count on. They don’t have a famous stepdad to bail them out of trouble or a credit card to buy whatever they want.
” I exhale. “I do though. I have all of those things.”
Her brow furrows, and she gives me a tiny, almost sad smile.
“Wow,” she whispers. “You know … if everyone knew you—like, really knew you—they would have never given you a hard time on social media.” She inhales through her nose. “You are a really good guy, Cane. And I mean that.”
As the plane drops lower, her neck cranes to look out the window, and her fingers begin to fidget nervously. And seconds before the wheels hit the ground, I have her hand in mine, lacing my fingers through hers.
“Touchdown,” I say, leaning against her as the plane’s brakes forcefully come on.
Looking at me, she laughs nervously, putting a hand on her chest. “I always hate that part.”
I don’t pull my hand from hers right away. Instead, I keep our fingers intertwined until the plane is parked and it’s time to get out. Even then, I wish I didn’t have to let go.
I don’t know what she’ll need from me once we get to that hospital. Maybe she’ll want to push me away, or maybe she’ll need me to stay close. Whatever she needs … whatever she wants … that’s what I’ll do.
HARLEY
After driving the fifteen minutes it takes to get from the airport to the hospital, our Uber driver pulls up in front of the huge main building, and we grab our things and get out.
“Thank you, sir,” Cane tells the driver before closing the door.
The first thing he does is reach for my small duffel bag, and then he takes it from me, slinging it over his shoulder with his own.
“Ready?” he asks, and slowly, I turn toward the doors.
“No,” I whisper. “But I guess I don’t have a choice, do I?”
He puts his arm around me, and without saying another word, we walk up to the doors and inside the hospital when they open.
The scent of antiseptic hits my nose, instantly making me feel even more uneasy than I already do. Before my dad got cancer, I didn’t mind hospitals. I had friends who would talk about hating them and hating their stench. For me, I didn’t really understand the aversion.
Until right now.
My body feels like ice, and my heart is pounding so loudly in my ears that everything else is just …
white noise. I swear I forget how to put one foot in front of the other, but then Cane moves his arm from around my shoulders and takes my hand in his.
He may not be saying a word, yet he’s making this a tiny bit more bearable, somehow.
“Didn’t your mom text you his room number?” he whispers gently.
All I can do is nod. Not take my phone out, not answer. Just … nod like a drone.
He holds his free hand out while his other one gives my hand a small squeeze. “If you give me your phone, I can look.”
Sluggishly, I take my cell out of my pocket and set it in his palm. Cane looks at the screen, tapping it a few times before he leads us toward a set of elevators. I move painfully slow, almost holding him back, but he doesn’t say anything.
Maybe I’m drawing it out and taking my time because in my heart, I know if my dad can somehow stay alive until I get a chance to say goodbye, he will.
So, the longer I take … the longer he’ll stay here. On earth.
I understand I’m not sitting beside him right now, but even still, I can feel he’s still here. I’m terrified for the moment when his soul leaves his body and he isn’t here anymore.
A world without my dad isn’t a world I can even fathom. I don’t think I ever will.