9. Jayce
NINE
Jayce
I wake up with a pounding headache, the room around me spinning. My body’s naked and tangled in the sheets, but something catches my eye on the nightstand. It’s a note.
I stretch, and wow, does my body hurt. Why does it hurt so bad?
Hey, Jay. Did you notice you didn’t drink from 7 p.m. until morning? Longest sober streak since the injury, huh? I read.
Damn, she’s right. I hadn’t even realized it. I don’t know if it was her fiery passion or the fact that her sarcastic, flirty demeanor kept my mind off the booze, but I managed to stay sober longer than I have in months. Maybe there’s hope for me yet?
But then the shitty feeling creeps back in, making me doubt myself. Something feels different though, like maybe it’s worth trying to get better. She made me feel so good yesterday. It was incredible. Holding her in my arms and sleeping. I slept just because I was tired and happy for the first time again. Usually, I just pass out because I drank too much…
I grab my phone and make an appointment with my physician, setting it down just as there’s a knock on the door.
“Jay, you in there?” Riley’s voice comes through the door.
I’m startled at first, my thoughts jumping to Rosie as if he could smell her in here, as if seeing my bed would tell him what we did. I need a few seconds to realize that this is bullshit and scramble to my feet.
“Ri, sure, wait. Hold on,” I yell, hurrying to get dressed. Thank God Rosie decided to leave in the morning. I can’t imagine what we would have done if she were still here. I have no room to hide anything here.
I open the door. “Hey, man.”
“Hey. Shit, I’ve missed your grumpy face.” His eyes look concerned, but there’s still a hint of excitement behind them. We hug, longer than we’ve ever done, and I clap his back.
“All right, come on in.” I gesture toward the couch, already bracing myself for the conversation ahead. Men and emotions don’t always mix well, but sometimes you have to face the hard stuff, lay it all out there.
Once we’re seated, I start, “Riley, look…I’m sorry for disappearing, for shutting everyone out. The truth is, this injury has done a number on me. I feel…embarrassed, directionless. Like I’ve lost a part of who I am and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do anymore. Life, it…it feels useless.”
Well, shit. It’s out. There. I said it.
At first, I can’t bring myself to look at him, too ashamed of the truth I’ve just spilled. My eyes stay glued to the floor, the weight of my words pressing down on my chest like a heavy stone. The silence stretches, and I brace myself for whatever response he’s about to throw my way. I mean, what do you say when your friend basically tells you he doesn’t want to live his life like this anymore?
But then I feel Riley lean forward, his hand settling on my shoulder in a firm, grounding squeeze. It’s a small gesture, but it feels like an anchor keeping me from drifting any further into the storm of my thoughts.
I glance up and meet his eyes—the same whiskey hue as Rosie’s. They’re filled with something I don’t expect: understanding. Not pity, not judgment, just a quiet solidarity that makes my throat tighten even more.
“Jay,” he says carefully, “I get it. More than you probably think.”
My laugh is dry, humorless. “You get it? You’ve never had to sit on the sidelines watching your career go up in flames.”
“Not the exact situation, but I know what it’s like to feel like you’re losing the thing that makes you…you.”
There’s a silence stretching between us.
“I nearly lost my job last year too,” he continues. “I was a mess. I thought I could handle it myself, but it just kept getting worse. I couldn’t admit I needed help because I thought it made me weak. Thought I was supposed to be the strong one. But Lia didn’t give up on me,” Riley says, a small, almost wistful smile tugging at his lips. “She saw right through my bullshit. She stuck by me, helped me work through my anger, my issues. She showed me that letting people in isn’t a weakness—it’s a strength. If it wasn’t for her, Jay, I’d have lost everything. My career, you…myself.”
He pauses, his hand still firm on my shoulder. “What I’m saying is, you don’t have to do this alone. You’ve been the rock for everyone for so long, but it’s okay to let someone else be strong for you now. Relying on the support of people who care about you is a natural and necessary part of being human, and it’s our turn to give back to you now. Let us.”
I swallow hard, his words cutting through the fog in my brain like a blade. “It’s not just the injury, Ri,” I say, my voice cracking. “It’s the pressure, the expectations…feeling like I’ve let everyone down. They want me back on the ice, but you know this injury will last forever. There’s no recovery. Sometimes I think…maybe it’s useless. I’m useless.”
Riley’s grip on my shoulder tightens. “Stop that,” he says firmly. “You’ve given everything to this sport, Jay—more than most people ever could. And you played for a very long time. Many players don’t get to play until they’re thirty-one. You’re not a rookie, you stopped when you’ve been your greatest, but you lived your dream, Jay. You don’t owe anyone anything—not your team, not the fans, not me. What you owe is to yourself. You deserve to figure out what’s next for you, and you don’t have to do it alone. I’m here. We’re here.”
I nod, but the motion feels heavy, like it might crack me open completely. My throat tightens, and before I can stop it, my eyes begin to burn. I try to blink it away, to hold it together, but when I glance up at Riley, I see his eyes glistening too.
“I had no idea, Jay,” he says, his voice breaking on my name. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know how bad your thoughts were. I should’ve…” His words falter, and he drags a hand through his raven hair, like he’s trying to untangle his own guilt.
I nod again, my jaw clenched tight, but it doesn’t stop the single tear that slips down my cheek. I swipe at it angrily, as though wiping it away will erase the vulnerability spilling out of me.
Riley notices, of course, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he leans forward, hugging me.
“You don’t have to do this alone, Jay,” he says, his eyes locking on mine. “I mean it. You’ve been carrying so much for so long, and it’s okay to let someone else help. It doesn’t make you less. It just makes you…human.”
His words hit like a fist. I can’t speak. Can’t move. All I can do is sit there, tears blurring my vision as the knot in my chest loosens just enough for me to take a shaky breath. “Thanks,” I manage to whisper.
Riley nods, his own eyes glassy, but there’s a small, almost sad smile tugging at his lips. And for the first time in what feels like forever, I don’t feel so completely alone. First Rosie. Then him. Maybe I needed them to pull me out of the mud.
“And for what it’s worth,” he adds, his tone softening again, “you don’t have to figure it all out today. Or tomorrow. But when you’re ready, we’ll be here—me, King, everyone who loves you. We’ve got you, Jay.”
“Thanks,” I murmur.
“That’s what brothers are for, right?”
It doesn’t fix everything, not even close, but it feels like a step toward something lighter. Something manageable.
Jay reclines on the worn leather sofa, stretching his arms overhead. “Coach Mercer’s been talking about you. He wants to train you as a coach. He says you’d be perfect for it.”
His enthusiasm is hard to miss, but the words hit me like a gut punch instead. Coaching? Back on the ice—not as a player, but as a coach? It feels wrong.
“I don’t know if I can do it, Riley,” I admit. “Being around everything I love again, but not in it? It’s…it’s not the same.”
Riley doesn’t push, doesn’t argue. He just nods. “I get that. It’s just an idea. Just for you to know that there is always a place for you, when you’re ready. Whatever that looks like.”
He’s right. It’s a lifeline I didn’t know I needed, and for the first time in a long while, I feel like I can breathe again.
“Thanks, but I can’t. I can’t stand around watching others do what I love. I’m not that big of a man.” I look down, avoiding his eyes again.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Riley says, trying to lighten the mood. “Just let it sink in, you can always come back. Mercer won’t go anywhere so soon. We have time.”
I nod again.
Damn, it’s tough to talk about things these days. Riley was always the one in our trio who did most of the talking. Compared to King, I’m a chatterbox. That guy barely speaks. But I get it now. Sometimes, things get so messy inside that trying to put them into words feels damn near impossible.
“Can I tell you something?” Ri says, and the smile he puts on lifts my mood a hundred degrees.
“Please,” I say, already grinning because I know what he’s going to tell me.
“I’m proposing to Liora!” He pulls out a small box and shows me the ring inside. “And guess who’s gonna be my best man?”
I laugh and clap him on the shoulder. “Man, that’s amazing. How the fuck were you able to find such a nice ring?” It’s delicate, and silver, with a big stone in the middle.
“Nina,” he says. “You know that little shopaholic. She took me on a nerve-wracking shopping trip last week. I almost left her stranded in New York, but we managed in the end. I really like the outcome.”
“Riley, that’s amazing. I’d be honored to be your best man.” If I can stand long enough for the whole celebration.
“Thank you.” He boxes me on the shoulder. “So, the plan is, Liora and Priya are celebrating the opening of their skating school next Wednesday. I want to propose there. You in?”
It’s hard to picture stepping back out there, facing everyone, but I can’t miss this. I need to see my friends getting their happily ever after. Now knowing that my best friend is choosing the love of his life forever, it hits me like a wake-up call.
“Of course, man. And I’m sorry I didn’t know or care about all of this sooner. I’ll try to do better. Can’t promise I won’t fall into the pit again, but I’m gonna try not to.”
“Jay, that’s all we can ask for,” Riley says, giving me another hug. “Everyone misses you, especially at the away games. The fans have signs with get well wishes for you.”
Hearing that almost brings those damn tears back. Maybe I can find my footing again, one step at a time.
I want to say something, but just then Riley’s gaze lands on the Post-it Note Rosie left me. I foolishly plastered it on the couch when I opened the door. I think my heart fell into my pants. Fuck. I’m a fucking idiot.
As if sensing my thoughts, Riley picks it up and squints at the writing. “Hey, is this my sister’s handwriting?” he asks, eyeing the note suspiciously. “What’s this about not drinking? Why do you have a note from Rosie?”
I snatch the note out of his hand, crumpling it up in the process.
“It’s nothing,” I mutter, trying to act like it doesn’t bother me. “Definitely not Rosie’s handwriting. Just a casual hookup. She left this morning. We were messing around, no big deal.”
Riley stares at me for a second, like he’s debating whether to call me out on the bullshit, but then, thank God, he just lets it slide.
He shrugs, his face softening. “All right, well, don’t forget—Wednesday. First best man gig coming up!”
“Got it,” I say.
Riley flashes a grin and leans forward, grabbing my PS5 controller. He passes the other one to me with a wink. “How about a round of Halo ? Just like the good old days?”
A mischievous grin spreads across my face. “Only if you’re ready to lose.”
He raises an eyebrow, shrugging. “I don’t lose, man.”
“We’ll see about that.”