Page 170 of Almost Ours
I felt my chest tighten with guilt, a pang of shame. I had built these walls up so high around myself after hearing about the hit, after everything that had happened. I thought it was easier that way–if I kept my focus on Connor and kept things surface-level, I wouldn’t have to deal with the pain, with the mess that was Ryan. But now, it felt like I’d shut him out in more ways than one.
Of course he hadn’t told me. Why the hell would he? I hadn’t given him the time of day to explain anything. Every time he tried, I’d dismissed it, or worse–avoided it. He’d been patient, so patient with me, and I’d been too caught up in my own hurt to notice.
Kyle took another sip of his beer, his gaze steady as he looked at me. “Ryan doesn’t talk about it much because, well, that’s just him. But he’s been the heart of this program. None of it would’ve happened without him.”
I shook my head, feeling a wave of frustration rise in my chest. My mind was spinning. How could I have missed this?
Nina, sensing my struggle, leaned back and smirked at Kyle. “So, basically, Ryan’s a saint, and you’re just along for the ride?”
Kyle chuckled, grateful for the light shift in conversation. “Pretty much. I just show up and look pretty.”
Shane snorted. “Pretty? That’s pushing it, buddy.”
Laughter bubbled around the table, though the sound barely registered. My thoughts were elsewhere, tangled in the realization that there was so much about Ryan I didn’t know.
He really was a good guy. The kind of person who would sacrifice everything to help someone else–someone like Kyle–and yet I hadlet him go. I’d been so caught up in the hurt from it all–the things he never told me, the way it felt like he was lying to me on purpose, which made me question everything and wavered my trust in him. Now… hearing Kyle talk about him like that, seeing the pride in his eyes, I was starting to wonder if I had it all wrong.
How could they still be friends after everything? How could Ryan have gone through what he did, andstillbuilt something so meaningful with Kyle? All I had read–everything the media had spun–painted Ryan as some angry, bitter man who had destroyed his career and his relationships. But what if I was wrong? What if there was more to him than I’d allowed myself to see?
And what if I royally fucked up by pushing him away when he needed someone the most?
I tried to shake away the thoughts, but they clung to me, swirling in my chest. The more I heard, the more confused I became. And now he was leaving.
I was makingthe right choice.
At least, that’s what I kept telling myself.
The day after Kyle told me about the job, Jeff–the head coach of the national sledge hockey team–had called me himself. His voice was warm, steady, but there’d been an edge of urgency too. He didn’t just want me to fill a spot for the summer; he wanted me on board long-term. Said the team needed me. That the program needed someone like me to help push them further.
I’d listened, the weight of his words heavy in my chest. How could I say no? This wasn’t just any opportunity. This was thenational team. This was about more than me, more than the guilt I carried, more than the doubt gnawing at my insides.
So two weeks ago, I’d texted Kyle and Jeff:I’m in,I’d said. I was going to take the coaching gig… For the summer, at least.
Now, sitting here, trying to quiet the doubt gnawing at my chest, I wasn’t so sure.
I’d tried to tell Harper last week. Sent her a message, asked if we could talk. But she hadn’t made the time. She didn't owe me anything–I knew that–but I’d hoped… hell, I didn’t know what I’d hoped for.
Maybe a chance to tell her in person. To sit her down, explain why I was doing this, reassure her that I wasn’t just packing up and leaving for two months without a word. I would never do that. Especially not to Connor.
God, Connor.
The thought of leaving him made my chest ache. He’d become such a big part of my life–bigger than I’d expected, bigger than I’d even realized was possible. That kid looked at me like I hung the damn moon, and I never wanted to let him down.
But Harper… Harper was the reason this decision was killing me.
She let me see Connor, and I was grateful for that. More than grateful, honestly. But it was always just the two of us–me and him. Never the three of us together. Never anything more.
It wasn’t remotely close to how it used to be.
And I missed it. God, I missed it.
I missedher.
I missed the way she’d throw her head back when she laughed at something completely ridiculous I said, the sound so carefree it made me forget every bad thing I’d ever done. I missed the way she bit her bottom lip when she was concentrating, how it made me want to kiss the thought right out of her head. The way her hair smelled when she was pressed up against me. The way her fingers traced lazy, featherlight lines down my back, like she didn’t have a care in the world.
And her body–Jesus. The way she fit against me, like she was made to be there. The way her nails would dig into my shoulders when we–
I scrubbed a hand over my face, groaning. Thinking about her like that wasn’t helping.
