Sharpie watched him carefully, his expression concerned. “Why are you stressed?”
Jamie scoffed. “I’m always stressed.”
“You’re still worried you are not a good captain,” Sharpie said, tilting his head to one side. “Why?”
“I’m not like you!” Jamie scrubbed his free hand over his face. “I’m not putting up points like you did. And the harder I try out there, the worse I get. I’m better than this, Sharpie, but I don’t know how to get there, and I’m fucking scared I’m taking the team down with me as I try to find my game again.”
“You really think this way?” Sharpie looked confused, affronted, even. “And here I thought I raised you better than to believe that crap.”
“I’m not a good captain, Sharpie.”
Sharpie scoffed. “I call bullshit. You are not like me, and that is okay. The team knows this. Management knows this. The fans know this. And still they chose to make you the captain.”
Jamie’s hand found its way to the back of his head, yanking on the curls there. Finally, he managed to get his voice working again. “I don’t know what to do,” he admitted, the words coming out rough. “When I get back out there, I have to be better. I can’tbe this bad. Not for the fans. Not for the guys. I want to do right by them so fucking badly, Sharpie, and I don’t know what to do.”
Sharpie leaned over, one of his hands landing heavily on Jamie’s shoulder. The firm squeeze was so familiar, something he’d done countless times in the locker room. “Management asked me who should be the captain, you know. When I started talking to them about retirement.”
“Yeah?”
“Of course. And I told them they’d be crazy to pick anyone other than you.” Jamie opened his mouth, but Sharpie shushed him. “Before you ask me why, I will tell you. You are a pro. I know that is a silly thing to say, but there are hundreds of guys in this league who are skilled enough to workjusthard enough. Not you. You show up every day with effort and commitment to work–not for yourself, but for the team. The guys respect that. They admire that. And on the ice, you may not have the most points or goals, but you are pulling some of the toughest matchups against the top lines in the league. You are doing everything out there to create opportunities for your teammates.Thatis being a captain.”
“But you–”
“I was myself. Now it is your job to be yourself. They signed you, knowing exactly who you are. They made you captain, knowing exactly who you are. All anyone needs you to be is Sully. Just be Sully.”
Jamie sank into the cushions. “You make it sound easy,” he muttered, but already he was recalibrating, rebuilding the story he’d told himself about his role on the team.
Just be Sully.
“Now that we’ve solved this crisis,” Sharpie said, his mouth curving into a smile. “We need to talk about getting you a boyfriend. You need to relax, and sex will help.” His eyes widened. “What ever happened with the pretty boy from the coffee shop?”
Jamie absently fingered the phone in his pocket as he told Sharpie about Tyler. About the push and pull, about the tinymoments of intimacy between them. About how much he cared about his son.
How badly he wanted Tyler to take a chance on him.
So far, there hadn’t been any more messages. It had only been a few days since they’d talked, but he couldn’t help the anxious need to know where they stood. He wanted to know what Tyler was thinking. If they had a real chance.
When they’d sat there together on the couch in Tyler’s small, comfortable house, Jamie had felt like they were on the edge of something. Tyler had been right there with him, ready and willing to jump.
Jamie was ready.
It felt good, after months of shaky confidence on the ice, to feel so certain about something. To be confident in himself, in his ability to show up for someone else and make it work.
He knew it wouldn’t be simple or effortless, but the best things in life rarely were.
Nothing about Tyler felt like an obligation. They would figure out a way to include each other in the quiet moments of their lives. Jamie could easily imagine it: sitting on the floor playing with Rowan, or visiting The Daily Grind on an off-day. Tyler joining him for family dinner at Mitch and Layla’s house.
If there was a way to be with Tyler, he would find it.
When his phone buzzed, he almost dropped his coffee in an effort to get it out of his pocket. Sharpie laughed, but Jamie ignored him, eyes quickly scanning the message.
Tyler
I’m in.
Jamie felt his heart rate kick up. His fingers tapped quickly on the screen.
Jamie
