Page 26 of Pucked Into Position

Ryan groans and opens his mouth to speak, but I hold up a hand. He huffs but stays quiet.

“Can you give us a moment, please?”

The doctor nods before stepping back and gesturing for the rest of the medical team to step out. The coach pats my shoulder and follows, muttering something into his headset.

Ryan is off the table before the door is even closed. He stumbles forward half a step and reaches for me. I step into him. His massive, calloused hands cup my cheeks as my tears spill over.

“Lana, I am so incredibly sorry,” he chokes out, voice thick. His eyes are brimming with tears. “I never, ever meant to hurt you. Yesterday…when Tucker walked in, I panicked. I was terrified of what Tucker would think if he knew I was falling for you. I caved under pressure. But it was a lie. Everything I said was a lie.”

His thumbs wipe away the tears now streaming down my face. My hands tremble against his chest, and I can feel his heart racing beneath them.

“I don’t want you to walk away. The apartment is yours. I’ll pay for your tuition and do whatever I can to keep you safe and let you follow your dreams.” The conviction in his voice is the glue that puts my heart back together, and when he looks down at me, my heart swells.

I tried to walk away from him, but standing here now, I know I never really wanted to.

“Please, just know that what happened between us in that bedroom, every time we kissed, it wasn’t a stunt. It was the only real thing I’ve ever had.”

My heart hammers against my ribs as his words sink in. “I don’t want to leave, Ryan,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “But I can’t live in the shadows anymore. I don’t want to be your fake girlfriend when what I feel for you is real. If you can’t seriously commit, then…for my own sanity, I’ll have to leave.”

Ryan’s face pales, and he pulls me closer. “You are so much more important than anything else, Lana,” he swears, his voice dropping an octave. I feel the air vibrating between us again. “You are more important than my best friend’s approval or what the PR team wants or even my career. If I have to walk away from the NHL tomorrow to keep you beside me, then so be it. I will do whatever you ask to prove that you are my everything.”

The sincerity in his eyes and the conviction in his voice untie the knots of uncertainty that had been holding me hostage for weeks now. His brows pinch with worry, and his shoulders curl toward me, his breath ghosts my lips with restrained desire.

A nervous smile breaks through my defenses. “Okay, if you’ll do whatever I ask…then we are going home and you’re going to follow the doctor’s orders. You’re going to sit out the rest of the game, you’re going to let me take care of you, and you are going to rest so you can dominate the next game.”

Ryan’s face crumples and he lets out a low, breathless laugh. “Deal, baby girl.”

He leans in and gives me a chaste kiss before wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me against his chest. I bury my face against his shoulder, inhaling his familiar, intoxicating scent.

The door opens and we pull away from each other. The doctor raises his brows, the only indication of his surprise at the team grump seeming so compliant.

“Alright, Ryan. Coach knows you’re out. I’m sending you home, but…” He points a stern finger at me. “he needs to be monitored for the next forty-eight hours. No screens, plenty of rest, and I want you to check his pupils until he can get into his primary on Monday—if anything seems off, get him straight to the ER. Can you handle that?”

I straighten, keeping my arm wrapped around Ryan’s waist. “Yes, sir. He won’t lift a finger.”

The doctor nods and holds the door open for us. “I’ll make sure your gear gets put up, just go home and rest.”

“Thank you,” Ryan grumbles, but he doesn’t put up a fight when I lead him back out into the tunnel. His hand tightens around my waist when the distant roar of the third period echoes through the stadium, but he doesn’t say anything.

When we exit the locker room out into the loading bay to get Ryan’s car, Tucker is already there waiting for us, leaning against the side of his truck with his arms crossed.

“Tuck—” Ryan starts.

“Get in the car. I’ll take you home,” Tucker says softly, taking in the sight of Ryan’s obvious exhaustion, his lack of equipment, and the way he’s got me snug against his side. Tucker meets my eye, the corners of his mouth twitch, and he nods.

I smile as we climb in. Ryan opens the back door for me.

“Thanks.” I blush as he leans over to buckle me in.

“Always the gentleman.” Tucker chuckles, starting the engine.

Ryan winks at me, then clambers into the back seat, stretching out to lean against the door, resting the back of his head against the cool glass.

The ride back to the apartment is silent, but not the heavy silence of last night. It’s a peaceful, comfortable quiet.

Tucker navigates the Houston traffic with ease while Ryan holds me close against him in the backseat, his arm draped around my shoulders, his thumb rubbing soothing circles against my arm.

I can’t help but feel turned on as I think about the roughness of that thumb circling somewhere else. I look out the window and try to find a comfortable position, avoiding any eye contact with Tucker—who keeps glancing between us in the rearview mirror.