"No,"Jamie agrees quietly."But grief makes people say awful things they don't mean."
His thumb moves in small circles against my shoulder blade. The simple gesture breaks something loose in my chest, and suddenly I can barely breathe.
"It's been almost twenty years."My voice cracks."It shouldn't still..."
"Hurt so much?"Jamie finishes when I trail off."I don't thinkthatkind of grief follows a schedule."
His other hand comes up, resting between my shoulder blades. The warmth of his palms seeps through my shirt.
"You don't have to be okay,"he murmurs.
The gentleness in his voice undoes me. A shudder runs through my body. My carefully constructed walls start to crack.
"I can't…"It comes out as a broken whisper. I don't know if I'm warning him or pleading for something from him.
He rests his forehead against the back of my neck, moving so his chest is pressed into my back. His big, body is solid and warm and... safe solid warmth feels... safe.
And for the first time in longer than I can remember, I let myself break.
The first sob catches me off guard, ripping through my chest. Jamie wraps his big arms around me, turning me away fromthe window. I should resist. Should pull away. Should keep my distance.
But I let him guide my head to his shoulder. I clutch at his shirt, desperate for an anchor. The fabric grows damp under my face, as I let him hold me while violent sobs wrack my whole body.
He doesn't shush me or offer empty platitudes. One hand running slow circles on my back while the other cups the back of my neck. His touch is gentle but firm. It's grounding.
The scent of the shampoo from the locker room fills my lungs. It surrounds me, mixing with the warmth of his skin.
I should be embarrassed. Should be mortified at falling apart like this in front of anyone, let alone a teammate. But there's something about Jamie Pirellithatmakes it... okay.
His fingers thread through the short hair at the nape of my neck, and a different kind of shiver runs down my spine. My sobs gradually quiet, but I can'tseemto make myself pull away. Can't face going back to holding everything together yet.
"I've got you,"Jamie murmurs against my temple. The words sink into my skin.
My hands are still fisted in his shirt. I should let go. I need to put myself back together, putthatarmor back on. It keeps me safe. Lets me function.
But forjustthis moment, I let myself be held. I let myself feel something other than the constant pressure of being exactly who everyone else needs me to be.
Jamie's heartbeat is steady and strong against my cheek. The rhythm helps calm me and the vice grip around my chest starts to loosen.
"Fuck. I'm sorry,"I mumble against his shoulder, voice rough."I don't usually..."
"Don't."His hand tightens slightly on my neck."Don't apologize."
I feel limp and drained, but somehow lighter too. It's a cliche, but I feel like I've let go of something I've been carrying for a long time.
He traces small circles at the base of my skull with the pad of his thumb, and I have to suppress a shiver. The touch is innocent, meant to comfort, but my body responds against my will, the blood rushing south to my cock.
Fuck.I can't do this.
But I can't make myself let go either.
Chapter 11
RYLAN
Iturn my head, tucking my face into the curve of his neck. The scent of his cologne mixed with something uniquely Jamie fills my lungs, and something inside me snaps. All my careful walls and rigid control shatter into a million pieces.
Jamie tenses against me, probably sensing the shift. But before he can pull away, before I can talk myself out of this, I press my lips to the soft skin below his ear.
