Chapter 30
PEYTON
Road trips were a normal part of a hockey player’s life. From the time we started playing above local peewee leagues, traveling to games was as normal as lacing up our skates. Buses, planes, hotels, restaurants—it was as much a part of the sport as the ever-present funk of hockey gear.
But two games into this four-game road trip, I was restless. Hell, I was homesick. Not for Nebraska or Iowa, though, and not for Detroit—for Pittsburgh.
For Avery’s place.
For Avery.
We’d played tonight in Denver last night and then flown to Vegas, landing at around two in the morning. I’d slept, I’d practiced with the team, and now I had a little time to myself before a team meeting this afternoon.
If I was smart, I’d spend that time getting caught up on some sleep.
If I was smart, and if I wasn’t so damn restless that I couldn’t sit still.
Restlessness came with being a hockey player—most of us were incredibly wired and constitutionally incapable of being still for very long.
I was probably on the calmer end compared to some of my past and present teammates.
I’d played with some guys who were so full of energy all the time, they practically vibrated when they had to sit for any length of time.
Today, I was pretty sure I could give most of them a run for their money.
Lying back on my hotel bed, I swore aloud and rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands. Restlessness was normal, but I didn’t recognize this feeling. It didn’t make sense. From the moment I’d boarded the bus at the arena and watched Avery walk back to his car, I’d felt…
Untethered? Was that the word? Close enough.
All because I was away from Avery. Why was I such a damn mess for him? Yeah, I’d had a crush on him before coming to Pittsburgh. And then there was that period where everything between us had felt like a powder keg getting ready to blow, and not in a good way.
But ever since he’d gone into the program…
Ever since we’d started spending so much of our available time together…
The itch to text him or FaceTime him had me squirming on the bed. I needed to see his face. Talk to him. Even get a few lines of text from him. Something. I couldn’t make sense of it, but I also couldn’t ignore it.
Eh, fuck it. What was stopping me from reaching out to him? What was the worst that could happen?
I’m chilling at the hotel for a bit. FaceTime?
He wrote back almost immediately.
On my way home right now. Give me 20 min?
Take your time.
Even as I wrote the words, I silently pleaded with him to step on it. I felt ridiculous and stupid and more than a little pathetic, but what could I say? I wanted to see his face, even if it was on a screen.
About fifteen minutes later, he sent the FaceTime request, and I was a little embarrassed by the intense relief that rushed through me when he appeared on my phone. He was lounging on his couch, I thought, his hair wet and stringy as if he’d recently showered.
“Hey, sorry.” He smiled as he tucked his arm behind his head. “You caught me on the way out of the training facility.”
“Oh yeah? Skating?”
“Not today. I needed to get out of my home gym, so I was working out there.”
“Ah, okay. I don’t blame you—that facility is nice.”
“Right? It was great before, but after they renovated it a couple of years ago?” He whistled. “I spend more time there than in my home gym.”
“I don’t blame you. You don’t have to clean or maintain any of the equipment there.”
“That’s a very, very nice bonus. Is that why you use it all the time too?”
I shrugged, neither confirming nor denying, and I was rewarded with an adorable laugh.
“It kind of felt like the off season today,” he said after a moment. “Usually there’s trainers and teammates around, but today…” He shook his head.
“At least then you didn’t have to worry about anyone forgetting to rack their weights.” I narrowed my eyes. “Unless you’re the one who doesn’t rack his weights.”
“What? Me?” He put a hand to his chest and batted his eyelashes. “I would never.”
“You better not,” I muttered. “Ugh, the other day, someone must’ve leg-pressed every forty-five-pound plate in the building. Did they take them off the machine? No.”
“For fuck’s sake.” Avery tsked. “They probably left crotch sweat all over the seat, too.”
I made a face. “Eww, I didn’t even think of that. It was dry by the time I got to it, but… eww.”
He laughed. “You’ll think about it next time, won’t you?”
I gave him the finger, which only made him laugh harder.
The conversation continued in that vein for a while, mostly just shooting the shit over whatever, before I had to log off so I could head to the team meeting.
“It was good to talk with you,” Avery said, and he sounded like he meant it. “We should do this again.”
The excitement that swelled in my chest caught me off-guard, and it also didn’t surprise me at all. Of course I wanted to talk with him again. I just hadn’t expected to be so enthusiastic about it.
“Sure! Yeah!” I smiled. “We’re on a pretty tight schedule, especially with two back-to-backs, but definitely.”
He smiled too, and was he… relieved? Because he sure sounded like it as he said, “Okay, great! Just, you know, text me when you’ve got time, and we’ll get on chat.”
“Perfect. We’ll talk soon.”
As much as I didn’t want to end the call, I needed to, and a moment later, we did. Though I was supposed to be heading down to the team meeting, I lingered in my room for a moment, still lying back on the bed as I replayed our call in my mind.
We hadn’t talked about anything substantial. It was just chatter about our days and the training facility’s gym and superficial things like that.
But the relief settling into me went so much deeper. As if talking to him at all, regardless of what it was about, soothed my soul.
Was that all I needed? To just spend some time talking to him and seeing his face, even if we were just shooting the breeze?
Maybe it was. All I knew was that after our call, I didn’t feel so scattered anymore. That untethered feeling was… not gone, but better.
I wiped my hand over my face, then stared up at the ceiling, Avery’s soft voice still ringing my ears like a roaring crowd after an overtime win.
Talking to him helped, but it also didn’t.
I was even more restless now. And I had to go to a meeting?
And concentrate? And then come back and try to sleep at some point?
When I wanted to be on FaceTime with him for another hour or three? How?
I sighed into the stillness. I was such a damn mess. For all I tried to gaslight myself into thinking I didn’t know why, I knew exactly why.
I wanted Avery.
I wanted him on the ice with me. On the bench with me.
In this goddamned bed with me.
“Fuck my life,” I said aloud. Now was so not the time.
He needed to focus on his therapy, his recovery, and his grief.
He needed to concentrate on getting back up to speed so he could play hockey again.
The last thing in the world he needed was to stumble into anything with me, whether it was for sex or… more than sex.
I squeezed my eyes shut. Fine, we wouldn’t hook up or get together, but could I at least see him? Like, in person instead of a twenty-minute FaceTime call?
Christ. Is it time to go back to Pittsburgh yet?
I’d been on some long road trips during my time as a hockey player. Some much longer than this one.
But I didn’t think I’d ever been this homesick in my life.
“Tough game, eh?” On my screen, Avery offered a sympathetic grimace.
I sighed, settling back on the hotel bed. “I take it you watched?”
“Yeah. I was helping Rachel with the kids today, and we decided to watch the game before I headed home.”
Jealousy flared in my chest, and I couldn’t quite explain it.
I loved that Avery was spending time with Leif’s family, and they probably appreciate his company and his help.
It was a good thing. It was probably great for his recovery to not be alone, too.
Plus, I mean, Avery and I weren’t together.
I had no claim on him. And I was pretty sure he was gay, not bi, so Rachel wouldn’t be on his radar even if she had any interest in dating this soon after losing her husband.
Am I just stupid? Is that the issue?
I tamped that weird feeling away. “How is she doing?”
Avery half-shrugged. “I mean, she’s struggling, but all things considered, she’s doing good. We took the kids to the science center this afternoon, which was a lot of fun.” He chuckled. “They passed out the minute we put them to bed.”
“I bet they did,” I said with a laugh that hopefully didn’t sound as forced as it was.
Seriously, what was wrong with me?
Besides the fact that I wish I could’ve been there.
Ah. That was it. I wasn’t jealous or territorial like someone who thought his boyfriend was interested in someone else—I was jealous that she got to see him at all.
I fucking missed him.
I cleared my throat. “How are the kids?”
“They’re good. I think… I mean, they’re so young, they don’t completely understand death, you know?”
“Oh, that’s rough.”
“It is. The twins mostly get it, I think. But sometimes Elsa asks when her dad’s coming home, and that just…” He pushed out a breath. “That hits right in the feels.”
“Yeah, I bet. Poor kids. That’s gotta be rough on their mom, too.”
“It is. And she’s holding it together as much as she can, but she’s been having a tough time.” He sighed. “I don’t know how she does it, honestly—handling all of this on top of taking care of three kids with a baby on the way. Just a day of helping her wore me out.”
I grimaced. “She’s tougher than I am, that’s for sure.”
“Right? I mean, it’s not like she had a choice, you know? I’m sure she’d rather not be handling it.” His expression turned even sadder, his gaze a bit distant. “I know I’d rather not, and I don’t have it half as hard as she does.”
“I can only imagine.”
Silence fell between us that I had no idea how to fill.