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.
By the time the team meal rolled around, I felt like I’d been run over. I pulled on the shirt and business trousers we were required to wear—at least the team had relaxed enough we didn’t need a suit—tried to look normal, then headed downstairs. The restaurant was packed, but I found Taranis at a corner table with Maxim and Ash. They made space for me, no questions asked.
We ate. Nobody talked much about the game. It was all travel plans and dumb jokes, and we headed to bed early. I unlocked my door and wondered if I should have stayed downstairs with Max at the bar, but I’d have felt just as lonely. The first thing I saw was the shirt, pale blue, tossed on the carpet, and my breath caught.
I almost wondered if I was hallucinating this exact replica of the night we met. Maybe I was so tired I’d started seeing things. But then I bent to pick up the shirt and caught the second clue—a pair of black trousers, crumpled, barely two feet further in, like someone had undressed in a hurry and just dropped everything.
My heart started pounding, sharp and stupid. I kicked off my shoes, not even caring where they landed, and followed the trail.
