Page 126 of Catch
“Easy for you to say,” I snap. “It’s not Jackson who’s scared out of his mind.”
“No, it’s not. But beating yourself up doesn’t help you or Jett. Now come on.”
“Fine,” I say grudgingly. “One hour.”
We make our way out of the kitchen and into the living room. Jett, Archie, and Jackson are stretched out on one couch, while Hudson, Gage, and Marshall are spread out on the opposite one. Silas and Axel lounge in the battered club chairs that flank the TV. They’ve probably skipped their afternoon classes to be here. I’ve never been more grateful even though I can’t seem to form words to say thank you.
Everyone’s watching a soccer game, and the irony isn’t lost on me. It seems like ages since that day on the field. Since Jett looked at me with stubborn determination and I couldn’t look anywhere else.
I walk over and crouch down in front of my boyfriend. His beautiful green eyes are bloodshot and red-rimmed, and my heart clenches.
“How’re you doing, baby?”
“Tired. But better. Gage ordered pizza. After this game, we’re gonna watch movies.”
“Are you okay if I go out for an hour?”
Jett nods.
“Dane already told me. I think it’s a good idea.”
“If you want me to stay, I’ll stay.”
Jett leans forward and kisses me. I cup his face. My hand is still trembling. He’s still trembling. Fuck, did he hear me yell at Dane in the kitchen? Did I scare him?
“Go,” he whispers and offers a small smile. “I’ll save a couple of slices for you.”
The last thing on my mind is food.
“I won’t be long.”
“Take the time you need. Just, come back to me.”
I swallow hard and nod. Jett’s expression tells me he knows exactly where my mind’s at.
With one last kiss, I stand up and head for the door. Dane’s waiting for me, and I realize that I never took my jacket off when I came in in the house. Jesus, my head is messed up, and I need to set it right again.
We make our way outside, and despite the cold air, I’m finally able to take a full, deep breath.
Dane steers me down a familiar route, and we end up at the rink.
We walk down the hallway to the locker room and, as usual, we pass Damien’s office. This time the door is open, and when he spots us, he waves us in.
“Silas texted me. Is Jett okay?” Damien asks with concern on his face.
I nod.
“He’s holding up.”
“And you?”
“I’m fine.”
Damien raises one eyebrow, and Iknowhe knows I’m bullshitting. Why else would I be here?
“Is there anything I can do?” Damien offers.
“Tell me no one else is using the ice right now.”
