Page 51 of Game Winner
“Maybe.” I keep my tone neutral. Tyler getting cleared is a possibility, but eight weeks out doesn’t seem like enough time to rebuild his strength. We’ll see.
Soren’s phone beeps. He glances at the screen. “It’s the team. I’ll be right back.”
He gets up, wandering to the far end of the room with the phone pressed to his ear, and Tyler shifts into his vacated seat. “Thank you for taking care of me. I wish I could take better care of you right now.”
I stroke my fingers through his hair. “Spending time with you helps. I know you’ll have your housemates back for a while, but if you want, I can come over after work tomorrow.” Just like I did the first few days of his injury. Soren and I took care of him together.
“I’m all for that idea.”
Soren strides to us, his eyes wide. He drops the phone on the bed. “I got called up. Pierre, the Metros starting goalie, injured his groin in their game tonight. I’m up for at least the next few games, maybe more, depending on how bad it is. Worst case is that he’ll be out for the rest of the season.”
“Pierre and I should start playing chess via text or something.” Tyler points to his phone on the nightstand.Soren picks it up and hands it to him, dropping a kiss to the top of Tyler’s head. “Sorry. I’d trade places with you if I could.”
Tyler smiles. “Better that you can’t. I’m a terrible goalie.”
Chuckling, I cuddle them close.
I don’t want to have to choose between these two and my band. Layne’s been a part of my life for so many years, I can barely remember a time when he wasn’t. He’s my family… the brother I never had. Creating music with him has defined my life. I love being a part of Flame Shade and can’t imagine it continuing on with someone else in my place.
But in Soren and Tyler, I’ve found people who add so much color to my world. They make me feel whole in a way I never have before. As cheesy as it is, they complete me. I feel valued, cared for, needed, wanted, and loved. And I want to give them everything, just as they’ve given it to me. I can see us building a life together.
I’m forced to choose… I just don’t think I can walk away from what I’ve found here.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
SOREN
The view of Boston outside my hotel room window is gray and rainy and too much like the world is reflecting my worries. I turn away from it and toward the laughter and banter from Sage, Morgan, and Remy, sprawled on my bed.
Morgan and Remy have controllers in hand, elbowing each other as they battle in Gargoyles Gateway. Sage sits at Morgan’s side, a fidget spinner in his hand, cheering for both of them.
I check my phone for messages from my guys. It’s been four weeks since Tyler got hurt and he has a follow-up X-ray today. He said he’d check in after the visit, and I’m anxious for the results, but there are no new texts or missed calls.
My sigh is as heavy as the weight that’s been around my shoulders for the entire week we’ve been on this road trip. I collapse into the chair near the bed.
Sage nudges his socked foot into my calf. “I felt that from here. Any word from Tyler and Bax?”
“Not yet. I hope he gets good news. He was having a rough day.”
Remy slams the button on his controller, the move capturing all the coins on the screen, ruining Morgan’s chances of collecting any of the bonus points. “Why? What happened?”
“Stephens sent him screenshots of bullshit comments fans made after the injury.” I pause while they all swivel toward me in various stages of disbelief. “Ones that said Ty was made of glass, needed to be kept in bubble wrap for his own protection, and questioned why the Metros would want someone so injury-prone.”
Sage bats at his fidget spinner, watching it rotate. “Stephens is a shit-stirrer.”
My head drops back, and I stare at the water stain that looks a lot like the profile of a raven on the ceiling. “I want to put my fist through the guy’s face. Tyler’s upset, feeling really low about it.”
“Tell Gio and Phil, and they’ll find a way to subtly get revenge on him at practice.” His thumbs smashing the buttons, Remy’s gaze is glued to the screen, navigating his character through a hedge maze mere steps ahead of Morgan’s character. “It’s good Tyler has Bax there to cheer him up.”
“I don’t think much cheering up is happening. Bax is dealing with some drama in his band, so he’s feeling low too. I can’t do anything to fix either of those situations, and that sucks.” I grab my water bottle from the bedside table and down a mouthful. Bax said this was the longest he’d ever gone in a stand-off with Layne. Their interactions at practices and gigs are stilted and short, not friendly. “It seems kind of unfair that things are going so great for me when sections of their worlds are far from happy.”
Morgan leaps his character over Remy’s. I know from playing this level with Bax and Tyler that they’re stuck in a dead end. He purses his lips as he makes another wrong turn, then pauses the game. “You’ve worked hard for years and have earned and deserve all the good you’re getting.”
Remy tosses his controller onto the bed. “Losing Pierre was a tough break, but everyone is pulling together, playing hard foreach other, and you’re really stepping up for us. The team, from the players to the front office, appreciates that.”
“When I got called up, I never expected I’d be the starter, not the backup.” But that’s what happened. In the six games since my call up, I’ve started five.
Morgan sets the controller aside. “Quinn said Camden’s not happy about that, but Coach puts in whoever is playing better, so he only has himself to blame.”
