Page 102 of Unsteady

“I couldn’t sleep. At first, it was just the flashbacks keeping me from even fading off. Then, when I did fall asleep, I’d wake up—or my mom would shake me awake—because I was screaming face-first in a pillow and I couldn’t breathe.” He huffs, closing his eyes tight and pulling on his shirt. “I really scared her the first month.”

God.

“So I just… stopped.”

“Stopped what?”

“Sleeping.”

My chest burns at the nonchalant shrug that accompanies the heartbreaking confession. “F-for how long?”

“I could go about ten days in a row before I passed out somewhere, and because I was recovering at home, my mom realized something was wrong. So I got some sleeping pills in addition to the pain pills, and a very irritating therapist.”

“Like, for your recovery? A sports therapist?”

He shakes his head. “No. I had one of those too, but my parents insisted on a therapist who focused on mental health for athletes. I can’t imagine how much she cost them, but…” He shrugs again, his fingers start a pattern across my exposed thigh, just brushing beneath the pooled fabric.

It’s distracting, but it’s more comforting than anything else.

“Rhys.”

“And then, after that… I just feltnumb. Like there was this dark shadow where everythinggoodwas and I couldn’t reach it anymore.” He laughs, a real one this time, and raises his eyes to mine. “Andthen.” He stretches out the word and kisses my nose. “This little punk figure skater grabbed my wrist and told me not to touch her, and I feltsomething. I was scared I’d never see her again.”

“Oh?” I’m dizzy, spinning in the well of his brown eyes. I think I’ll drown in his dimples if they grow any deeper. “And then?”

I probably sound like a blubbering idiot but as long as he’s looking at me like that, I don’t care.

He nuzzles my cheek with his, a slight scrape from the stubble that he hasn’t shaved yet, and then his mouth is at my ear.

“And then, she was there with me. Again and again.” But he pulls back, a serious look in his eyes as he keeps his grip on my jaw and draws my eyes to his. “And then, I started to use her like a crutch.”

I wince at the harsh truth. “It’s okay—”

“It’s not,” he cuts me off. But he smiles lightly, and continues, “I’m back in therapy. I shouldn’t have left—and I should not have used you like that.”

I want to tell him that Iwanthim to use me forever, but I know he’s confessing something deep. Showing me that this between us isn’t just shared pain anymore; it isn’t emotional release—it’s something real. Something precious.

He kisses my cheek and wraps my hair into the tangle of his fingers, bracing my head. “Youwere the only time I feltanythingfor a long time.”

I open to him, our mouths tangling as he holds me completely at his mercy.

Because of how small I am—even though I’m pretty sure my thigh muscles could kill a guy if I really needed to—I’ve always maintained control when it comes to hook-ups. Being on top, making it solely about my pleasure, keeping strict boundaries about what they could touch. But with him, I don’t need to.

Because I trust him.

I say it aloud as soon as I realize it, basking in the light that ignites in his eyes.

He looks like he wants to say something, but shakes his head and kisses me through endless smiles and laughter, until we tumble back beneath the sheets together.

* * *

We emerge from his room in the midmorning when our stomachs are both growling and we’ve run out of the expensive protein bars stashed in Rhys’ mini fridge.

He goes down before me so that I can freshen up—again, since we’ve been unable to remove our hands from each other, and gives me time to call Aurora to check on the boys.

She dropped them at school this morning, happy and fed, and I know they both have after-school programs until late. I also know, from the very well-maintained whiteboard calendar above Rhys’ desk, that he has to get on a bus in two hours for his away game. It’s at Union College tonight, and to complete the little picture of Waterfell Hockey Captain Rhys, I see a print out of their stats with scribbled notes about different players.

Smirking, I grab a pen from the holder and scrawl a quickGood luck, hotshotwith a wink across the bottom.

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