Chapter Fifteen
TYLER
Not ready yet.
The doctor’s words play over and over in my mind as the streets of Saint Paul roll by the car’s window.
Huddled in Soren’s hoodie and coat, I gaze at the houses and people and signs of spring.
Beside me, Soren has his gaze on the road and his right hand resting on my thigh as he chats with Bax in the back seat about our flight to New York tomorrow.
They accompanied me to my appointment, and I’m glad for their support, especially since I didn’t hear the answer I wanted.
The first round of the playoffs starts next week, and I won’t be there to help the Metros or the Slash.
For the past eight weeks, instead of contributing and helping the team, my schedule has consisted of regular checkups and X-rays to monitor healing. Now that the bone has healed, the next step is rebuilding my muscle strength. But the doctor put the breaks on that.
Leaning forward, Bax reaches between the seats and rests his hand on my arm. He’s been staying over nearly every night since his fight with Layne. “I don’t understand. You’ve been doing range of motion and strengthening exercises for the past two weeks, but he won’t give you more of that to do?”
“I didn’t have full, pain-free range of motion, so he won’t clear me to resume hockey-specific drills. And he limited the amount of weight I can lift. I’m allowed to skate and use the bike, but that’s it.”
His fingers trace small circles on my skin. “Do you think you pushed a little too hard the past two weeks?”
“No?” A shard of worry lodges in my chest. “They say moving is important so things don’t get stiff. I hope I’m not causing a setback. I swear I’m being careful.”
Soren squeezes my hand. “He’ll reassess in two weeks?”
“He initially said four, but I wasn’t waiting that long.” I try to keep my tone light, but anxiety thins it. The doctor’s job is to get me healed, and I trust him. If his thinking of four more weeks is what I end up needing, the margin for me to return in time to play is so slim it’s almost none.
Soren huffs a laugh. “I’d be the same way.”
I think again about how the doctor said most fractures heal in six to twelve weeks, but I could be dealing with some symptoms like decreased strength, swelling, or stiffness for months. That’s the last thing I want.
To distract myself from thinking about that, I move to the next big thing on my mind. “I guess I could use the next two weeks to start looking for an apartment.”
Soren slows the car to a stop as the light turns red. “Why?”
“Gio and Phil said I could stay through the season. That isn’t much longer.” I don’t want to go, but I can’t imagine they want me living in the guest room forever. Where would the actual guests stay?
Soren’s brows knit together. “Tyler. You don’t have to go.”
“I don’t think that’s up to you,” I say the words as gently as I can. The house isn’t his. Only Gio and Phil can make that decision. “It’s okay. They gave me breathing room to get settled. But I’ve been here for over four months. Almost five.”
Memories of my housemates over the past eight weeks, and how they’ve bolstered my spirits fly into the forefront of my mind.
Gio and Phil sitting with me, watching movies, and driving me to my doctor appointments whenever Soren or Bax couldn’t.
Remy asking me to hang out with Benny, insisting that the bearded dragon was lonely and needed company, and making me cookies that had everything from chocolate chips and coconut flakes to sliced almonds and raisins in them.
Sage making me a “feel better” playlist of my favorite music artists and gifting me more of his fidget spinners. He and Remy sitting with me at the piano, teaching me scales and simple songs using only my right hand while they sat beside me and enhanced the melody by playing the deeper keys.
Morgan giving me a tablet loaded with tons of games that I could play one-handed.
Soren doling out back rubs and blowjobs, and getting me the one-handed controller so I could still play our favorite game with him and Bax.
They’ve all done so much. I’ve never experienced such a sense of belonging as I have with this group of guys.
When we arrive at the house, everyone is home.
Laughter and multiple voices ring out from the kitchen.
I need a minute before I can put on a believable smile, so I head up to my room to change clothes.
Doing things overhead is still painful, but I manage to get my shirt off and tossed into the laundry hamper.
Pulling a fresh henley over my head and getting my left arm into it is a little harder.
Wincing, I manage to get it on and smoothed into place.
Maybe the doctor was right about me not being ready yet.
Sitting on the end of the bed, I glance around the room that’s been my home for the past few months.
I’m not sure why it’s hitting me now that soon, everything will change again.
Another new place to live, and who knows what’s going on with hockey?
What if twelve weeks isn’t enough? What if I’m one of those people who have symptoms for months and it affects preparing for next season?
The sound of footsteps echoes from the hall. Bax knocks on my open door. “Thought I’d check on you.”
Standing, I gesture for him to come in. “I just needed a minute.”
“I’m sorry you didn’t get the clearance you wanted.” Hands tucked in his front pockets, he strolls toward the bed.
I cup his cheek in my hand. “And I’m sorry the thing with Layne is still making you sad.” It’s making me sad too. What if Layne really doesn’t like me? I don’t want to come between him and Bax.
He slides his arms around me, gently pulling me into his embrace. We rest our foreheads together and breathe. Soaking up the quiet and seeking strength from each other.
More footsteps tread down the hall. Soren comes in. “You okay?”
“We’re taking a minute. Come here.” Bax raises his arm, and I shift to the side to give Soren more space.
His body warming ours and his strength wrapped around us fills me with the peace I’ve craved since I left the doctor’s office.
In their arms, I feel that, somehow, everything will be okay.
I raise my head and gaze into their eyes.
“Thanks for coming with me today, and for taking care of me so well over the past two months.”
Soren presses his lips to my temple. “We’re not stopping.”
“What he said,” Bax adds.
“I hope I’m better soon so I can do a better job of taking care of you both.”
Several pairs of footsteps tramp up the stairs. I bite back a smile at the thought of everyone coming up here in waves.
Gio knocks on my door, with Phil behind him. “Sorry to interrupt.”
I turn toward them as Soren and Bax’s arms loosen our embrace. “That’s okay, G. What’s up?”
“Tyler, Soren brought up something that Phil and I figured we’d talk to you about once the season was over. But I think we should address it now.”
One thing I like about Gio and Phil is their directness. If there’s a problem, they immediately address it and look for solutions, and then implement them.
And I’m grateful to them for convincing Coach Nivens to make Stephens skate wind sprints at practice for two weeks straight, for sending me those awful texts.
I shoot Soren a glance. No need to ask why he said something. He’s as much of a problem-solver as Gio and Phil. “I can guess what it’s about. I’ll start looking for my own place.”
“Tyler, that’s not what we’re going to say.” Gio marches into the room, followed by Phil. And Morgan, Sage, and Remy. “We want to invite you to stay. Permanently.”
“Stay?” I push forward, but flinch at the jolt of pain when I move the wrong way.
“We can switch out this bed and furniture,” he waves a hand at the bed and dresser, “with the stuff you put in the garage. You’d be more comfortable with your own things. The room should look the way you want it to. Everyone chose the colors for their own spaces, so you need to do that too.”
Phil slow-walks around the room, inspecting the walls, crown moulding, and baseboards. “Right. We’ll help with everything once the season’s over. It’ll be our first project of the summer.”
My skin tingles and there’s a fluttery feeling in my stomach. I’m overwhelmed by their kindness and support. “I don’t know what to say. A few minutes ago, I was sitting here thinking about how I don’t want to leave, and now you’re here telling me I can stay.”
Remy pats my shin. “You fit in with us.”
“Told you.” Soren presses another kiss to my temple.
I scan the men surrounding me, searching for any indication that they might not want this. The last thing I want is for them to ask me to stay because Soren asked them to. “Are you sure?”
“You have a stocking.” Gio pins me with the same quiet assurance he gives us as team captain. “You can’t leave now.”
“You’re family,” Sage adds, then sets a fidget spinner on the dresser like it’s marking the place as mine.
My throat constricts and I swallow down the lump forming. “For years, I never felt like I’ve belonged anywhere, with any team. But here, I do.” I brush the back of my hand over my eyes. “Two teams, one family.”
Soren takes my hand, lacing our fingers together. “You belong to us.” He kisses my knuckles. “Nothing changes that.”
“Nothing,” Gio nods. “You’ll have a place with us here no matter what.”
Morgan picks up the puck sitting on the dresser and tosses it from one hand to the other. “Soren told us what the doctor said. Tough break, but just hang in there. You’ll be back on the ice, and if it’s not until next season, that’s okay.”
“I wanted to help the team. To make a difference.”
“There’s more than one way to make a difference.” Phil plucks the puck, mid-air, from Morgan and sets it back on the dresser. “You make one here. And someday when your hockey career is over, hopefully at a time of your choosing, you’ll make one in whatever you choose to do next.”
Bax rubs my back. “The path that brought you here might not have twisted and curved in the way you expected, but it led you here for a reason. Maybe that reason is making a difference on the hockey teams or in the community. Maybe it's one you haven’t discovered yet.”
Soren pulls me into him and Bax. “Point is, it led you here. To us.”
To them. And maybe in some ways, to discovering myself.