Chapter 16
Chapter sixteen
Line Change - Substituting players during live play.
Cole
I’d hoped to sit with Keegan, but Coach had snagged him to talk about his line position, so I’d made my way down the plane, and the only empty seat was next to Taranis.
I had no idea if he knew what I was, and obviously we couldn’t talk freely.
I was relieved to turn my phone off, as Dad had been blowing it up since he’d gotten back to my apartment yesterday and I’d gone.
I fobbed him off with an excuse about today’s trip, but I really wanted to block him.
Unfortunately, Ignatius said that was probably the fastest way to have him follow me, so I was just making excuses and pretending to be obedient.
I sat down next to Taranis and instantly felt like I was a kid again, thrown into a new school and told to make friends with the weirdest, quietest guy there. Only, this time, I was the weird one. The guy who melted a hole in the ice and was waiting for someone to point and call me a freak.
But maybe not? Keegan had sounded definite.
Taranis didn’t say much at first. He had headphones around his neck and a book open on his lap, but he wasn’t reading it. Just turning the pages every so often, like he was keeping his hands busy.
I didn’t know what to do with myself. I’d never flown with the team and not sat with Maxim or Ash.
But Maxim had a bad back and was up in first class, and Ash had snagged a seat next to some girl from PR.
The sponsors hadn’t sprung for first class for all of us, and for big guys, the seats were cramped.
Taranis had the arm rest up and was taking two out of three seats.
I cleared my throat. “Did you get enough sleep after the game?” Then I groaned internally. I sounded like some grandma.
He looked up, startled, then relaxed a little. “Aye. I don’t need much. Four hours and I’m good.” His accent was more Canadian than Scottish, but sometimes a word would slip out and it would sound like he’d stepped straight off the moors.
I nodded, not trusting myself to say anything clever. Taranis was a legend, but he wasn’t loud about it. He just showed up every game, stopped hundred-mile-an-hour pucks, and then went home like it was nothing.
He must have noticed me fidgeting, because he smiled just a little. “You did good, kid. Vegas has got some monsters.”
My ears burned. “I got lucky on that last play.”
He shrugged. “Luck’s part of the game.”
I wished I could believe that. I wanted to ask him how he kept it together when everything inside felt like it was coming apart. But I didn’t. I just watched him flip another page and tried to act normal.
“When did you leave Scotland?”
“I was five. Ma and Dad decided they wanted a bigger life.”
“Wish I’d been able to,” I admitted. “Boarding school crap,” I added for some unknown reason, although the papers had been full of speculation about how friendly I was with William or Harry. Much to my dad’s disgust, I’d never met either of them.
He gave me a look, like he got it. “Not easy, that.”
I almost laughed. “No. Not easy.”
He hesitated, then leaned in, dropping his voice. “You got family here?”
I thought about Phoenix, about the way he curled up in my bed and made the nightmares stop.
I thought about Ignatius and Keegan and how suddenly I wasn’t the only dragon in the room.
For a second, I almost said yes. But then I remembered my father’s voice, cold and furious, and it caught in my throat.
“Not really,” I managed. “Mostly just the team.”
Taranis didn’t judge. If anything, his gaze softened. “You fit in, though. Even if you don’t think so.”
I was so tired, I nearly laughed. “Doesn’t always feel like it.”
He nodded. “Aye. Some days it’s like that. The locker room…people come and go. But you’re part of it now, Armstrong, and when we have some time, I might have some tips for you on how to manage everything.”
And there, right then, was how I knew we weren’t just talking about hockey.
I knew he meant it as well. Almost like the older brother I’d have killed for growing up.
He didn’t even look away when he said it, just closed the book and settled back like we were old friends on a train and not two strangers crammed into a row on an airplane with barely any legroom.
I didn’t know what to do with the quiet between us, so I just let it sit there.
Usually, I hated silences. They ate at me.
But this one didn’t. Maybe because for the first time in forever, it didn’t feel like I had to fill it.
The flight was long and the turbulence was worse, but Taranis just handed me a water bottle and unwrapped a pack of gum, offering me a piece with a lopsided grin.
I took it, rolling it between my fingers before I chewed.
It helped. I could almost forget how my hands still shook, or how my lungs kept stuttering like every breath was another chance to mess up.
“You did good,” he said again, like he was trying to make it stick.
I shrugged, but yeah. It meant something. Coming from him. I’d watched old games with him in net, that weird calm he had even when the whole world was crashing in. I wondered if maybe he got it—the way the pressure built up, how I never felt like I could let it out or just…be.
He must have seen something in my face, because he nodded. “You don’t have to be the golden boy all the time. Sometimes just showing up is enough.”
I wanted to laugh. I wanted to say, you have no idea. But maybe he did. Maybe that was the whole point.
I watched the clouds below for a while. Let my mind drift.
Every now and then, Taranis would nudge my elbow, point out something on the ground as we came in to land, or tell me a dumb story about his first year in the league.
The time he missed the bus and had to hitch a ride with a delivery guy.
The time he nearly got benched because he’d eaten too many hot dogs from a vendor outside the stadium.
I almost smiled. It was so…normal. It was what I’d wanted, all this time, and never thought I’d get.
When we landed, the chaos started. Coach barking orders, bags getting dumped in the aisle, everyone scrambling for their phones. I kept my head down and just followed Taranis off the plane. The noise didn’t get to him. He just moved through it, steady and unhurried, like nothing could touch him.
He waited for me at the bottom of the ramp. “You ever been to Chicago?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Not for more than a night last year.”
He grinned. “Stick with me. I know all the places to get decent coffee.”
I gripped my bag a little tighter, not sure if I should say thanks or just nod, but he didn’t expect anything. He just waited until I caught up, then walked with me to the shuttle. It was stupid, how much it mattered to just…not be left behind.
We rode to the hotel in silence. He didn’t push.
Didn’t ask about the game, or my father, or why I kept rubbing at the scar on my wrist like it might vanish if I just worried at it hard enough.
Dumb, but it was the truth. Taranis didn’t comment.
He just nudged his bag under the seat so I’d have more legroom, then pulled out his phone and scrolled through a few messages, like he was giving me space to breathe.
The shuttle ride to the hotel was fast, but it felt like the world outside had changed.
The air was sharper, the skyline meaner.
I watched the city blur past the window and tried to get my head on straight.
It wasn’t just the game, or the pressure, or even my father’s threats.
It was knowing I wasn’t the only one anymore.
Not on the team. Not in this city. Maybe not anywhere.
I missed Phoenix desperately, even though I’d see him tomorrow.
As supposedly my agent’s assistant, he would be there when we visited the kids’ hospital.
As I turned my phone on, I smiled at the four texts I’d gotten from him.
All PG because we had to be careful, even though Keegan was out and no one was giving him any crap for it.
We filed into the hotel, players peeling off in twos and threes. The front desk staff had keys ready, but I just waited for my name to be called. Taranis hung near me, steady as always, and I was grateful for it. I didn’t want to admit how much I needed the company.
When I got my key, Taranis clapped me on the shoulder, solid and grounding. “Nap if you can. Team meal’s at six.”
I nodded, throat too tight to speak. I watched him stride away, easy in his own skin, and wondered if I’d ever manage that for more than five minutes at a time.
The room was fine, and I was on my own thanks to my money. I shut the door and leaned against it, letting the silence settle. My phone was already lighting up with more notifications. I ignored them. I just sat on the edge of the bed until the shaking in my hands stopped.
I desperately needed to speak to Phoenix, but it wouldn’t be enough and I’d miss him more.
Eventually, I showered. Stood under the spray until my skin stung, until the heat in my chest faded to something manageable.
I dried off, pulled on sweats, and lay on top of the covers, staring at the ceiling.
I thought about the game, the way the ice had melted, the way Keegan had looked at me and guessed exactly what I was hiding.
I thought about Phoenix, too. The way he’d held onto me last night, the way his body had fit against mine, the way I could still feel him on my skin. It was stupid how much I wanted him there. How much I wanted to just…let go. But I couldn’t. Not yet.