Page 101 of Stick With Me
“Huh? Hannah, you don’t have to do that. I’m okay, I promise.”
I knew he’d object to my plan before I even formed it. He’s the first person to drop everything for others but feels undeserving of the same care in return. Always too concerned with not being a burden, not being difficult, not being hard to love. But he’s out of his mind if he thinks there’s anything he can say or do to stop me from going to him.
“I know you’re going to be okay, but I’m coming. It’s not up for discussion. I won’t hear any of your ‘you don’t have to’s,’ or your ‘don’t worry about me’s.’ Let me be there for you, like you’re always there for me.”
There’s a long pause before he speaks. “Okay. I’d like that. I love you.”
“I lo—” I start, but he disconnects the call, not giving me a chance to finish.
Stubborn man.
THIRTY-EIGHT
I makeit to Denver in record time, thanks to Dominic’s Lamborghini and his reckless—but undeniably effective—driving. During the twenty-minute ride, I managed to book a flight, all while gripping the passenger-side door. I didn’t bring a suitcase, a change of clothes, or even a toothbrush, but now, I’m minutes away from the hospital. Minutes away from Ryan.
During the three-hour flight, I realized I may have overreacted. Just a little. But seeing him injured, struggling to get up, and hearing the pain in his voice, caused my heart to take over and my brain to ignore logic.
Regardless if coming was the “right” decision, it was the right onefor me. Ryan needs to know that if I’m able, I’ll always be there to support him. And unlike with Jace, I know he won’t let me lose myself in the process.
I check the time as the rideshare driver pulls up to the hospital: 11:30 p.m. With the time difference, I was able to make it to Denver the same day, with thirty minutes to spare.
After a quick stop at the check-in desk, thankful they allow 24/7 visitation, I make my way to room 310. I triple-check my phone as I walk, making sure I’m going to the right place. The last update I received was from the athletic trainer after the doctors confirmed with a CT scan that Ryan tore his labrum and will need surgery, but they’ll wait until we get back to Chicago. For now, the doctor has popped his shoulder back into place, stabilized it, and put him on IV pain meds. He should be getting out of the hospital tomorrow morning.
When I approach Ryan’s room, the door is closed, so I knock softly, and when there’s no answer, I head in, trying to make as little noise as possible.
The first thing I notice is a familiar head of blond hair. Someone I didn’t expect to see by Ryan’s bedside. Jace looks back over his shoulder to meet my gaze. “He’s been sleeping off the pain meds.”
I don’t respond, making my way over to Ryan instead. I brush hair off his forehead and place a soft kiss there. He doesn’t stir, his breathing steady in sleep.
“Here,” Jace says, standing and pushing his vacated chair toward me. I move it closer to Ryan’s side and sit down.
Long moments pass in silence before I break it. “Did you do this on purpose? I knew you were desperate, but this is a new low, even for you,” I spit the words out, unable to keep biting my tongue around him.
He’s done nothing but try to tear down everything I’m building—everything I’ve accomplished without him. Gone are the worries about playing it safe, and in their place is a deep, bitter loathing that poisons every one of my good intentions.
“I didn’t mean to. Run into him, I mean. I’m getting fined, but I swear, I didn’t mean to hit him.” He sounds surprisingly genuine, but it wouldn’t be the first time he’s fooled me.
“Forgive me if I don’t trust your word. It’s hard to believe you justaccidentallyran into him hard enough to do so much damage. You’re not even that big.”
Oops. Sorry, not sorry. I watched the replay of the hit on the plane, and though it does appear that neither of them saw the other coming, I’m still suspicious. Hockey players train to control where they look, giving them an advantage against the other team’s defense.You score when they don’t know what your next move is, Jace told me years ago.
“You know how fast I skate—” He cuts himself off with a shake of his head. “That’s not the point. The point is I know you don’t believe me, and I don’t blame you. But I’m telling you the truth. It was an accident. I wasn’t paying attention. My head wasn’t in the game. I know you don’t care, but I’ve been going through some shit?—”
He’sbeen going through some shit? He’s right, I don’t care.
Jace’s loud ringtone cuts through the silence, but luckily, he answers quickly and heads out to the hall. He must not go far. The voice on the line carries, so loud and clearly angry that I can almost make out the scolding words.
Jace’s reply is careful. “I know, Dad. I’ll pay the fine—” There’s an abrupt pause, and it’s a while until his words filter back into the room. “Hopefully, no suspension… Yeah, I know.”
There’s a long silence, and I assume the call’s over until Jace mutters, “I’m sorry. I know.”
I don’t know a lot about his relationship with his family. Over the years we dated, I can count on one hand the number of times I was around his father. It was mostly his mother I saw on holidays, with them being divorced. Having my own family issues, I never really questioned it. But hearing only half of the conversation, I realize his father doesn’t sound like the champion Jace makes him out to be. Would he even be able to get Ryan off the team?
He returns to his chair, turns off his phone, and gives me an apologetic look. “Sorry about that.”
I say nothing, focusing instead on Ryan as I rub circles into his palm. I can feel Jace’s gaze boring into the side of my face, but I refuse to meet his gaze.
“So, this wasn’t some kind of retaliation after I turned you down the other day? Some ploy to end his career so I would go back to you? If that’s what you’re thinking, you’re way off base. Ryan could flip burgers at McDonald’s and I’d still choose him. Just so we’re clear.” I finally look back at him, only to find him holding back a smile.
