Page 81 of Home Ice Advantage

But no one had left her flowers. No one had left anything.

As he’d walked, Ryan had his hands shoved in his coat pockets, and he felt his knuckle bump up against something flat and hard. He pulled it out, frowning, until he realized it was the pebble he’d picked up on the grounds of Eric’s old synagogue in Montreal. It was round and flat and white, and he thought about Eric picking up pebbles in every city they stopped in, about Eric on his knees talking to his father at the gravesite.

Ryan took a deep breath and rested the pebble on top of his mother’s stone. He crouched down to grave level, ran his hand over the top of the headstone. “Hi, Mom.” It sounded stupid at first, to talk to a grave. Eric had done it as naturally as he did anything else, but he’d been doing it for years. Ryan’s tongue felt awkward and ill at ease, but he forced himself to keep going anyway. “I’m really... I’m sorry I haven’t been to visit you in a long time. I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you before you died. I didn’t know how sick you were. And that’s not an excuse. I hope you understand why I stayed away then...and then after that, I just felt so fucking guilty. And that’s also not an excuse.”

His brothers had always looked more like their dad: big and burly and intimidating, blue-eyed and black-haired. Ryan had been the only one who resembled Katherine. They were both small, had the same warm brown eyes and stubborn cleft chins, the same smile, the same thick brown hair. Sometimes, Ryan wondered whether that was the reason his father had hated him so much, especially after she’d gotten sick. He remembered being called a sissy, a mama’s boy, all kinds of ridiculous shit. In retrospect, it was so fucking stupid that his father—the man who hadmarried her—viewed that as an insult. Because Ryan had loved her, so stupidly much.

“Uh. I’m back home now, maybe for good, if I sign this extension. I’m coaching the Beacons. I know you thought Shannon was right and that I should give up on hockey, but I’ve made a pretty good career out of it. I’ve had some really good memories. I met some really great people. Uh, and about that. Shannon divorced me, and I’m probably more okay with that than you ever would’ve guessed. We weren’t right for each other, even if we both realized it too late. And I met someone else, and he’s really...pretty fucking amazing. His name is Eric. I think you’d like him. Maybe. I hope. He’s a good man, even if he pretends that he’s not. He might be moving away soon, and things might be changing, and I don’t know how to feel about any of it.

“But it’s partially because of him that I got the courage to tell Dad to fuck off. And I did do that, did you know? Told Dad to his face to shut the fuck up and fuck off and I... I wasn’t sure what to expect. I might not ever be able to go home again. But I’m okay with that. It’s going to be pretty lonely here, if Eric ends up taking this job, but it was lonely before that, even when I did go home. You know I never really fit in there. For whatever reason. And I’m starting to accept that...maybe it’s better for me that I didn’t.

“So, uh, that’s all the things I wanted to tell you. I have a really good thing with the team and with Eric. And I’m not sure how long it’s all going to last. But I’m so fucking happy that I’ve had it, even for this short time. And I’m sorry I haven’t been to visit more often. I promise I’m going to be better from now on. I miss you so much.”

He touched his fingers against the stone he’d placed on top of her grave, took a deep breath. “I love you, Mom.”

Strangely, he felt better as he walked back to the car. Eric had the right idea, about the regular visits, about leaving the pebbles. He wondered what Eric was doing now. Whether he’d accepted the job. Whether he was putting in his two weeks’ notice with Joe Conroy. Ryan could feel his shoulders hunch forward, defensively. He felt exhausted, like he’d been bag skating himself for hours.

It was time to go home.

Eric couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so eager to talk to anyone as he was taking the stairs of Ryan’s apartment two at a time. He’d piggybacked into the building on the heels of a girl who lived on the first floor and who’d obviously recognized him, which was an issue for another day. Right now, he had to talk to Ryan. Immediately. The apartment door was shut when Eric got there, and as he pounded his fist against it, he realized he probably should have called first to make sure that Ryan was home.

Ryan opened the door almost immediately anyway, his whiskey-brown eyes concerned. “Eric? What the hell are you doing?”

“Sorry, sorry, I was in such a hurry to talk to you about this, I didn’t think to text.”

“Actually, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about, too.”

They stood staring at each other in the doorway for a second. Ryan looked so fucking good to him, just then, in his ratty sweatshirt and joggers and his eyes red-rimmed, that it was difficult not to just grab him and push him back toward the bedroom.

Instead of doing any of that, Eric said, “You go first.”

Ryan said, “Do you want to come in, though?”

It was strange how tentative it felt, crossing the threshold. He had no idea what to expect, coming from Ryan. Ryan held out his hand, and Eric took it. Ryan’s fingers were cold, and Eric wondered where he’d been and what he’d been doing. But he didn’t ask. Let Ryan drag him back toward the IKEA couch they’d bought out of sheer necessity and that Ryan had spent several hours putting together with only an Allen key and sheer stubbornness.

“Look,” Ryan said, when they were sitting. “I love you. I’m not saying that because I want to hold you back or anything. I want you to have this job if you want it,becauseI love you. Like, I’m really kind of insanely in love with you, actually.”

Eric could feel his heart pounding in his ears, the same way it always had when he was playing, when someone had said something shitty to him and he was so fucking furious about it that he felt at any minute that his head was going to explode. Except instead of fury, it was with an emotion that he couldn’t entirely describe. Relief and happiness and sheer fucking disbelief. “You’re in love withme?”

“Is that a problem?” Ryan demanded, like he was ready to fight about it, and Eric felt momentarily overwhelmed with all of the stupid shit that was going on in his head.

“No. No, kind of the opposite, actually,” Eric said, his breath a little shaky. Ryan’s hands were still in his, trembling a little. “So what I wanted to tell you was that I love you. And that’s probably half of why I turned the job down.”

“...you what?”

“I turned the job down. Partially because of you.”

“Eric, no, that’s not what I wanted you—really, if you want the job, I need you to take it. I’ll be okay without you here. Don’t give up this opportunity just for me.”

Eric’s chest was going to burst again, looking at Ryan’s worried face and ridiculously earnest expression. This was how he always was, always had been: wearing his heart on his sleeve even while prepared for someone to stomp on it. “No, but that’s exactly it. I want to stay because of you. There’s the whole Railers thing. I’m not going to compromise my morals to get ahead in life, I’ve already decided that. But I want to stay herewith you. We’re building something special here together. And I don’t want to give that up, not yet.”

“Eric...” Ryan said, and his face was almost comical, how quickly the expressions cycled through it, confusion and acceptance and joy. He was smiling, now, so fucking wide that Eric could’ve easily stuck all five of his fingers in there. Not that he was going to do it, of course. Not yet. “You’re really turning it down? For me?”

“For us.” Ryan’s fingers were gripping Eric’s hands, so hard it hurt. “Like I said. I really think...not this season, not next season, maybe not even the season after that. But this is what kind of environment I want to coach in. These are the players I’m happy to know. I just want to build something special together. Iknowwe can.”

“I don’t really know what to say,” Ryan admitted, “except that I’m just really fucking happy. I thought I was going to lose you.”

“You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

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