Page 19 of Skating to Him

“Sure thing, Mom. Talk to you later, and let me know when you get home.” I snuck a peek at Rowan. I should get Ace and Myles into the room after this call. But Rowan had been right there beside me. “Bye, Mom.”

“Bye, honey.” She ended the call.

Slumping my shoulders, I dropped my phone onto my lap and twisted it in my hand. I had to talk to someone, and Rowan was here.

“What happened? Is your mom okay? I could hear some of it.” He shifted on the bed to face me, lifting his leg between us.

“My mom’s been having these spells where she gets really tired for a few days or her hands tingle or sometimes she falls or?—”

“MS.” He placed his hand on mine, stopping the spinning of my phone. “Your mom has multiple sclerosis.”

“Oh, you heard that.” With a nod, I stared at our hands. I wanted to turn mine over and full-on hold his hand. Hell, I wanted him to wrap his arm around me again.

“No, but I went through it, go through it, with my mom.” He squeezed my hand and stood. “Come here.” He held his arms out.

Shifting my stare to his gorgeous face, I rose and fell into his chest, draping my arms around his waist and resting my head on his shoulder.His mom has MS?

Wrapping me in a warm embrace, he said, “My mom was diagnosed about ten years ago, and it was caught pretty early. But that’s because she has a really shitty version of it. She lost her sight once for a whole month, and sometimes, she’s in a wheelchair.”

My gut knotted and my throat tightened. In a croak, I said, “God, I’m sorry.” Was that the sort of thing my mom was in for? My breath hitched and the corners of my eyes pricked. I was going to lose it. “Shit.”

“Tyler, hey.” He freed me and grabbed my cheeks, forcing my blurry gaze to his. “The variant my mom has is rare. Most MS isn’t that bad. It progresses over the years, but they have good drugs to treat the flare-ups.”

Flare-ups, he’d used the same phrase my mom had. As I fought to control my stuttered breathing, I said, “But she’s had this for a long time and is only now getting treated.” Fucking doctor. Why hadn’t he listened to her all those years ago?

“Listen, the majority of MS cases are relapsing-remitting. Which means she’ll have flare-ups and will need medications forthat, then they’ll go away, and she’ll be back to normal.” He placed his forehead on mine. “It’s not a death sentence. She’ll live a long, full life.”

I blinked and a hot tear tumbled down my cheek. “Yeah? You sure?”

His gaze darted between my eyes. “I’m sure.” He brushed his thumb over my cheek, wiping away the wetness. “Tyler, I’m here for you, man. Tell me what you need from me.”

I focused on his lips and bit the side of my own. His mouth was right there. If I leaned in…I blinked and twisted. Shit, I had to control myself.

“Tyler.” He snatched my hand and climbed onto my bed, shoving my bag away and pulling me with him. “You look so sad.” Lying on his back, he patted his chest. “Come on.”

I crept to his side and lay down, resting my head on his chest while he hooked his arms around me. I wasn’t going to think about how weird this might look, us lying on a bed together and cuddling.

“When I found out, I was pretty traumatized too. I knew nothing about the disease, and I was scared as hell I was going to slowly watch my mother rot away in a hospital bed.” He brushed his fingers over my scalp.

Closing my eyes, I lost myself in his body heat, the tingle of his fingers in my hair, the calming hold of his strong arms. “Yeah, I’m numb and traumatized at the same time right now.” How would I feel about this tomorrow? It was like a bad dream. How the hell was I going to play in our games?

“The thing to remember right now is she’s been diagnosed and is being treated. She’s going to feel a hell of a lot better when she gets home.” He breathed in deeply. “She’s a hockey mom. Is she the type of person who’s always running around and taking care of everyone?”

I nodded against his chest, a warm ache pushing through my heart. “Yeah, she keeps us all sane. God, when we were kids, she never rested. She was at every game. She sacrificed so much forus.” My eyes stung, and I held my breath.Don’t fucking lose it again.

“So now you’re playing for her.” He squeezed me for a beat. “You know what makes her the happiest is seeing you and your brother out there on the ice winning games.”

“Yeah, shit.” I sniffled and wiped tears from my eyes. “Is that what motivates you?”

“It is. Part of it.” He glanced at me. “The other part is I love the sport.” He bit his lower lip and then released it. “Tyler, when you go home, make sure she doesn’t overdo it. She’s got to be careful now and rest when she needs to. My dad and brothers understand that and help my mom a lot.”

Wait, he moved out here knowing his mom was sick? “Hey.” I lifted onto my elbow, my gaze meeting his and my hand flattening on his stomach. “Why did you move out here if your mom needed you?”

His arms dropped from around me and he planted the heel of his hand on his forehead, his gaze shifting toward the ceiling. “This might sound shitty, but I couldn’t keep my head in the game with her illness staring me in the face every day. I wasn’t playing my best.” His gaze flicked to mine. “Like I said, she’s got my dad and brothers there to help with the day-to-day. She didn’t need me there too. And I didn’t want all the years of practices and games she took me to ending with me not getting an NHL contract. I had to leave to focus on my career.”

I studied him. He was serious about this. “So you left Boston because you were having a hard time with your game there?”

“Yeah. And Coach Hammett is a good friend of Boston’s offensive line coach. There were some behind-the-scenes talks.” He shrugged. “You know how this sport works.” He pursed his lips. “My old coaches knew what was going on. They wanted to see me succeed.”

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