Page 53 of Delay of Game

CHAPTER 19

Now – August

Jordan

A car honksbehind me and startles me enough that I jump and hit my head on the trunk of the car. With a muttered “fuck” under my breath, I drag the last box out of the new SUV. It’s not like I wanted to make the twenty-hour drive from Texas, but plans changed, and I wasn’t able to ship my belongings in time and fly back to Michigan like I initially intended.

I heft the heavy ass box in my arms and fumble for the keys, locking the car in the process. Another honk is aimed at me, and I spin around, ready to give whatever asshole is behind the wheel a piece of my mind.

I’m about to do just that when I realize I know the assholebehind the wheel. The fucker is wearing the biggest smile on his face as he hops out of the car and runs at me, enveloping me and my box in a big hug.

“Jordie, my man, you’re finally back,” he says, running a hand through his dark red hair. Ashton fucking Meyers: former teammate, current best friend, and a constant pain in my ass.

“I told you never to call me that. And what are you doing here, shouldn’t you and your boyfriend be enjoying the last few days of peace and quiet before the new hockey season starts?”

Ash reaches out and takes the box from me, and I don’t miss the way his muscles flex as he easily maneuvers it. I frown at his biceps and say, “Did you get bigger?”

“I put on about twenty pounds of muscle in the last year,” he says smugly, walking towards the apartment building.

“Jesus, man, the other NHL teams better watch it. You’re gonna be a beast out there.”

“Damn right,” he says, and winks at me.

We take the elevator to the third floor, and I let Ash carry the box for me. I enter the code on the keypad and unlock the door to the apartment. Ash catalogs my stuff and looks at me, head tilted. “Is this really all your stuff? Just two suitcases and some boxes?”

I grab one of the suitcases and roll it inside, using it to prop the door open. “You told me the apartment is mostly furnished, so I got rid of a bunch of stuff. Figured I’d start fresh anyway.”

“Well, yeah, you’ve got furniture and kitchen stuff, but you still need some decorations. Things of your own to make it home, ya know?” Ash says, placing the box on the kitchen island and heading out to the hallway for another one.

“I’ll figure it out. Thanks for letting me sublet the place, by the way. You and Eli are welcome to stay here anytime you’re back in town, if that wasn’t clear.”

“Of course. Did I tell you we’re looking at buying a house in Grand Marquee?”

“Really?” I ask. I’m not surprised that they’re looking at houses since they already rent a condo in Detroit, but I’msurprised they’re looking in Grand Marquee. “Wouldn’t you want a house closer to where you play?”

“We’re going to keep the condo during the season, but we’re thinking about moving closer for the off-seasons. I hear the house across the road from Robbie is up for sale.”

“Ah, so that’s the real reason you’re in town. It’s not to help me move into your old place. It’s to get closer to Robbie.”

“It’s a double whammy,” Ash says, bumping his hip against mine as he walks by. My steps falter and I wince at the pain that shoots through me. I try to recover quickly but Ash notices and his eyes go wide as saucers. “Jordan, shit—I’m so sorry, I totally didn’t realize that was your injured hip.”

“It’s fine,” I say, walking over to the island and gripping the counter.

“I’m such an idiot,” Ash says, quickly coming over and pushing the bar stool towards me. I shake my head and ride out the pain. It’s been months since my career-ending injury, and it still follows me around.

When the doctors told me I had a hip fracture, I didn’t think much of it. People come back from that, right? Well, not me. Because of the direct acute trauma to my hip joint, I developed post-traumatic osteoarthritis, also known as PTOA. I was hopeful that it would go away after a few months, but even with physical therapy, exercise, and lifestyle changes, the doctors told me it could stay with me for the rest of my life. Not only was I devastated to lose my hockey career over a stupid injury, but I’ve had to come to terms with my chronicissue.

Some days are great, some days are manageable, and some days even the smallest thing like getting out of bed feels excruciating. I thought I was in a good spot, getting back in touch with my family and friends. Texas was a little more bearable. I had plans to visit Grand Marquee more often, but thisinjury took me right back to the darkest, most miserable place in my head.

I take a shaky breath and muster a smile. “You’re not an idiot. It was an honest mistake, don’t beat yourself up over it.”

Ash gives me a gentle hug and I want to make another joke that he got soft since dating Eli, but I don’t. I give into it instead, hugging him harder. The truth is, I don’t know if I’d be here if it wasn’t for Ash. While I was at my darkest, I pushed people away.Again. My own family and friends.

I’m not proud of it, and I know I have a lot of work to do to gain back their trust. But Ash—he was the one that pushed me to get better. I kept most of the details of my injury to myself because I didn’t want my friends to pity me, but Ash flew down to Texas after a few months and made sure I was going through therapy—physical and mental—and that I was taking care of myself.

“How are you doing with everything? Are you sure you don’t want to take more time to get better before starting the new job?”

I squeeze his shoulder and plead with him to understand. I need this.“I can’t sit around all day, man. I’m gonna go crazy if I do.”

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