Page 86 of Wyatt

“Somethingiswrong, Wyatt. What’s going on?”

“It’s my hips. I just need to stretch.”

She made to disentangle herself, but he held on. “I’m fine.”

“Really? Because now that I think about it, you seemed pretty sore after your game the other day.”

The fact that she’d seen his game went straight for his heart and squeezed. Wow, he’d missed her. He reached up and wove his fingers through her short hair. “I like it black. It’s mysterious.”

“Stop changing the subject. Are you hurt?”

He ran his thumb along her cheekbone. “Yeah. Maybe. It’s a goalie injury—it’s called a labral tear, or a tear in the fibrocartilage around my hip joint.”

Her eyes widened. “Do you need surgery?”

“Not yet. I was supposed to rest it after last season and maybe do some PT, but, well, I was busy.”

“Running around Russia trying to find me?”

He made a noise, caught by the desire to kiss her nose.

“Wyatt—”

“Yeah, so maybe I’m not good at resting. But there’s also this other goalie—Kalen. I took his place a couple years ago when he had surgery forhislabral tear and…”

“And you’re worried he’ll take your place if you slow down.”

“I’m not in that much pain.”

“Yet.” She sat up. “If you continue, could you take yourself out permanently?”

He lifted a shoulder.

“I know I said you were a softie, but you’re also just like your brothers. Stubborn and too tough for your own good.”

“Hey—!”

“I once watched Knox get bucked off a bull, limp to the side of the arena, and the very next round, climb on the back of a bareback bronc. And get thrownagain.”

“My father always said you had to get back on the horse—”

“Your father was the worst of all. He went out riding alone in some back field—”

She stopped, her eyes wide. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re right. He was as driven as the rest of us—and got in over his head.”

“Hockey is your life. Don’t mess around with this.”

For a second, Jace’s words roared back at him.What if it crumbled? What would you have left?

Wyatt was staring at it. Or at least half of his answer.

The other half was on his way to Seattle.

“I can’t quit now, Cookie. What if Mikka needs treatment? He has no US insurance—and treatment costs money. My contract is up in a year. If I’m injured, no one is going to pick me up.”

“This is where your mother would say, ‘Trust in the Lord with all your heart. Lean not on your own understanding.’”

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