“Oh. Uh. Yeah, it’s… It’s fine.” I shrugged. “It happens.”
“It shouldn’t, though,” he said quietly. “I bit your head off over nothing. I’m sorry about that.”
I wasn’t convinced. That he was genuinely apologizing, yes, but that it was nothing? Not so much.
“It’s all right,” I said. “Are you… Are you good, though?” That seemed like a stupid question, because no matter how much he tried to pretend he was good… he wasn’t. He absolutely fucking wasn’t. I just didn’t know how else to press the issue without setting him off.
He avoided my gaze. “Like I said, it was a bad night.”
“Last night isn’t what I’m worried about,” I whispered. “It’s… There’s also thatothernight. In Detroit.”
Avery’s jaw worked.
“I’m not being judgy, okay?” I said even more quietly. “I may be new to the team, but I can still support my teammates, you know?” I took a breath. “If there’s something you?—”
“I’m good.” He said it firmly, but he didn’t quite snap, and then he turned dog-tired eyes on me. “Look, last nightwas a bad night. Detroit… same thing. I’ve been fine the rest of the time, though, you know?”
I pressed my lips together. Oh, he gave theappearanceof being fine most of the time. Well,someof the time. Put him on the ice, and he was almost good as new.
I didn’t know if anyone else could see what I did. Ever since that night I’d half-carried him out of the bar, though, the cracks had been impossible to miss. I wanted to believe him that those two nights were flukes, but I couldn’t lie to him. I couldn’t lie to myself.
Apparently seeing the uneasy skepticism in my expression, Avery sighed. Voice quieter—almost pleading now—he said, “Last night and in Detroit—I’ll be the first to admit I fucked up, and Igotfucked up, and…” He waved a hand, then let it drop into his lap. “I own it, okay? But it won’t happen again. I promise.”
I wanted to push. We both knew there was more going on than those two nights. Right? Or was I seeing something that wasn’t there because of what I’d missed in the past?
I couldn’t say. What I did know was that if there was a problem, and if I wanted to help him—truly be the support he needed—then I needed to take my cues fromhim. Not from my past or my assumptions. Avery wasn’t my mom, and he wasn’t Richards.
Getting us back on the rails as teammates was a start. After that, I could keep an eye on him and see where things went.
So, I nodded. “Okay. We’re good.”
Avery studied me uncertainly, then let a small smile crack through. “Okay. Okay, good.” For as much as he’d been trying to bullshit me and everyone else that he was all right, the relief in that moment did seem genuine. As if he’dreally been upset about his behavior last night and the way things had been off kilter between us.
A metallic rattle pulled my attention to the front of the plane, and I realized the flight attendants were starting to bring food and beverages to our teammates. I gestured at them and asked Avery, “Should we get something to eat?”
He glanced in the same direction, then nodded. “Yeah. We should. I, um…” He laughed a little sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. “Kind of didn’t eat much this morning.”
The words“same here”stopped at the tip of my tongue. I didn’t need to give him another reason to beat himself up. Instead, I went with, “I wasn’t impressed with that hotel’s eggs. You’d think they a swanky hotel could do better than aplane.”
Avery’s laugh was tired but real, and I pretended my pulse didn’t skyrocket at the sight of him not just smiling, but relaxing. He nodded toward the flight attendants. “To be fair, charter jet food isn’t exactly the same slop they serve in coach.”
“You’re not wrong,” I said, chuckling.
When the flight attendants reached us, we both ordered breakfast. One of them asked Avery what he wanted to drink, and he started to respond, but hesitated. His eyes flicked toward me, and then he cleared his throat and asked for orange juice.
My heart sank.
He wanted a drink, didn’t he? A stiff one? But he wasn’t going to order it now. Not in front of me, not after the conversation we’d just had.
So what’s going to happen when you’re alone?
Because that was the other side of my worries abouthim. It wasn’t just that he’d had too much to drink at the bar last night and in Detroit.
You’re going to be careful around us.
But what’s happening behind closed doors?
I let that go for now, though. He obviously wanted to smooth things over between us, and so did I. If I started pointing out the signs he wasn’t hiding very well, he’d just started hiding them better, and things would get tense between us again.
