Page 101 of Puck Me Back to Life

His thumb continues moving against the back of my neck.

Slow.

Steady.

Back and forth.

I focus on that instead of the thoughts in my head. The roughness of his fingertips. The warmth of his palm. The weight of his hand.

Every time my mind starts drifting back toward William, Ash says something else.

“Stay with me.”

“I'm here.”

“One breath at a time.”

Nobody has ever talked to me like this. Not after the accident. People either pretended nothing happened or treated me like I might shatter if they looked at me too hard.

Ash does neither.

He simply stays.

By the time we pull into the underground garage beneath his building, my breathing has slowed enough that my chest no longer hurts. The panic hasn't disappeared.

It's just… Quieter.

Ash parks the SUV and turns off the engine. His hand finally leaves my neck.

I miss it immediately. The realization startles me.

“I'll grab the bags.”

I nod automatically. The movement feels robotic. Ash circles around the vehicle and opens my door before I even think to reach for the handle.

I climb out. My legs feel strangely heavy. He slings both hockey bags over one shoulder as if they weigh nothing.

Then he looks at me. “Come on.”

I follow. The elevator ride passes in complete silence. I'm vaguely aware of the polished steel walls. The numbers climbing above the door. Ash standing beside me. Nothing feels entirely real. When the elevator doors open, I simply keep following him.

His condo door unlocks. Warm light spills into the hallway. Ash steps inside first, leading me in. The familiar smell of cedar and coffee wraps around me. He drops both equipment bags beside the front door before turning back toward me. “Sit.”

I look at the couch. Then at him. He nods once.

“Stay there for a minute.”

I lower myself onto the cushions without arguing. Ash disappears down the hallway.

The condo suddenly feels too quiet. The thoughts immediately begin creeping back. He's only gone for a few seconds. He's already doing enough. He shouldn't have to babysit me too. The realization twists painfully in my chest.

What am I doing here?

I'm acting like a weepy toddler while sitting on my teammate's couch because I can't survive being alone for an hour.

He deserves better than this. He deserves someone normal. Someone who doesn't bring ghosts into every room.

By the time Ash reappears, tears are burning behind my eyes. I stand quickly. “I'm sorry.”