Page 47 of Defensive Zone

I love hockey. It’s been my first love for as long as I can remember. I learned to skate before I could walk. But I need to think about my future after I hang up my skates. I have Carter now in the way I’ve always wanted him, and I don’t want to risk potentially missing out on our time together once I’m done with the game.

I’m only twenty-nine, after all. I don’t want to be thinking about what happens after hockey.

But of course, Chris will be thinking about it too. While it’s his job to declare whether I’m fit to return to the ice—which won’t happen while I’m experiencing these symptoms—he will want to ensure I have a decent quality of life after I retire.

“Come, let’s have a look.”

I follow him into the training room, where he goes through the usual checks, one of them being my weight. I’ve lost a few pounds, but that’s understandable, and I make a joke that Carter will enjoy feeding me. He goes through a few concussion-related assessments, and types away on his laptop in between checks.

“Headache dependent, you’re good to begin training lower body and low-impact cardio as we don’t want any pressure being put on your wrist.” When he levels me with a pointed stare, my spine stiffens. “I would suggest speaking with your neurologist about your PCS. The symptoms can last for weeks, or even months, but it’s important they are aware too. And please don’tdownplay your symptoms, Zach. Head trauma needs to be taken seriously.”

“I know.” My voice is quiet. “And I will. Speak to her, I mean.”

I move to sit on the edge of the table when the door swings open and bounces off the wall with a loud bang. Elliot storms in like the hurricane he is. He’s dressed in his Thunder-branded athletic shorts and T-shirt with calf-high socks and his most recent obsession: a pair of bright red Crocs.

I’m completely unprepared for his tight embrace as he wraps his arms around me, knocking the breath from my lungs.

“I’m so glad to see you. I was so fucking scared,” he murmurs into my shoulder, and if it were possible, he tightens his hold on me even more. “You were just lying there. You weren’t moving. I didn’t know what to do.”

Carefully wrapping my arms around him, I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Carter told me how Elliot was the first one to get to me when I didn’t get up from the ice after the hit and how his terrified voice could be heard from where Carter was sitting in the stands. He also came to the hospital and spent all night at my bedside with him.

To the world, Elliot always appears to be the life and energy of every room he enters, but what a lot of people don’t realize is that Elliot’s a very sensitive soul. He feels things on a deeper level than most, especially when it comes to those he cares about, so I can’t even begin to imagine how he must have been feeling.

Plus, this is the first time he’s been able to see me awake and alert since the incident.

“I’m okay,” I whisper reassuringly. “I’m gonna be all right.”

Elliot lifts his head, and his mossy green eyes shimmer with so much emotion. His breath trembles as he exhales, collecting himself. A moment later, he places his hands on his hips andscowls at me. “Don’t ever do that again. You scared the fuck out of me. I thought you were dead.”

“Hey.” I smile softly, squeezing his shoulder with my good hand. “I’m okay. Once my migraines fuck off and this heals up—” I raise my casted wrist “—I’ll be right as rain, and we’ll be back on that ice together.”

“Damn right.” He grins, and just like that, the darkness that was clouding him disappears. “I need my big D-man protecting me. So, how’s it healing up? Have they given you a time frame of when you’ll be back on the ice? Can I draw on it?”

“Sure, you can draw on it, but I’m getting a new one tomorrow. And I may be back in a couple of weeks. The cast comes off in three weeks, so they’ll probably do another scan then before we start physio.”

“Ew, physio sucks. I remember when I strained my groin, and it was not fun.” Elliot grimaces, then turns to face Chris. “Hey, Doc, you got a Sharpie? I wanna draw on his cast.”

The rest of the guys filter into the room, and I tell them everything while Elliot draws on my cast. I tell them about what the doctor said at the hospital—at least what Carter told me she said as I wasn’t fully with it—to how my recovery has been and what we’ve got planned for my return.

I tell them everything except for how things have progressed with Carter.

I don’t know why I’m being so… reserved about sharing this news with anyone. I’m hanging back in the defensive zone, not wanting to break the cycle I’ve been in since I was a teenager. I’m not worried about the guys’ reaction. I mean, shit, I think they’re half expecting it. And it’s not because I’m concerned Carter is going to change his mind, especially after yesterday.

I guess I’m not ready to share him yet, because I’ve had to share him for twenty-three years, and now he’s finallymine.

“Maybe we can have a boys’ night soon? Do it at your place?” Peyton suggests.

“Or mine,” Blaine offers. “Alex has a night out with Nate planned soon, so it’ll just be me and the dog.”

Peyton mock-gasps, his hand flailing to the side of his face. “You’re letting Alex out without you? Alone? Are you unwell?”

Blaine scowls and flips him off. “Fuck off, I’m not that bad.”

We all burst into laughter. If there’s one guy here who’s whipped, it’s Blaine.

“I’m not!” He lifts his hands in protest. “But seriously, I’m happy to host. It might be nice to get out of your apartment for a few hours. And you can bring Carter.”

“Yeah.” I smile. “We’d really like that.”

---