Page 88 of The Tape Job
“It’s fucking cold. Did you bring the extra blanket?”
“If you turned off the fan, you wouldn’t be cold.”
I scoff. He knows I can’t sleep without it. Even in the middle of a Canadian winter, I have to have it on.
I tuck the duvet underneath my body and when Liam pulls it next, he pulls me along with it. We’re sandwiched together and the heat of his body makes my skin tingle.
I expect him to retreat but he doesn’t and I find myself rolling over so I can rest my head on his chest, basking in his warmth, and he accepts me. I can hear his heart beating, the gentle rhythm soothing every cell of me. His fingers trace circles on my back, I feel safe, warm and completely whole. Everything feels perfect. Fuck.
“The last time we cuddled like this was last Christmas,” I whisper into the darkness, partially wondering if he’s still awake. But he answers me almost instantly.
“I know, and I loved it then too.”
I wasn’t expecting him to say that. That night was the last night we spent together. The night before he told me he couldn’t do this anymore. I wonder if I said that aloud as he turns his head to speak to me.
“I know you regret a lot of things, Vic, and I know you’re sorry. I feel the same about Christmas Eve. I’m sorry too. But you have to understand. I didn’t know what else to do.”
“I know.”
We lay there in each other’s arms as if nothing has happened since last Christmas.
“You said you loved me,” he says, after a period of complete silence.
“What?”
“Right before I was benched a few weeks ago. In the dressing room.”
“Oh, yeah.”
“You know, I’ll never not love you either, Vic. You’ve got this hold on me, and I can’t help having this pull towards you.”
“I believe everything happens for a reason, and it’s led us to where we are now. Ryan wouldn’t have met Jenna, He’s so happy. You did that,” I say. “I have a question for you,” I angle my head towards him. “How did you convince him to take your spot?” It’s something I’ve always wondered but never really asked. I expect Liam to shoot me down, tell me it’s none of my business, but then he starts telling me about a road trip that him and Ryan were on.
“Coach was making a big deal about the scouts, and I just couldn’t let Ryan miss it. Right before Mom died, she forced us to confess because she had a strong suspicion that we lied about it.”
“Oh, my god! What did she say when you told her?”
“She just said she understood and then said that he clearly owed me a favour. I know she said it as a joke, but Ryan tookit seriously. For years afterwards, he’d ask me what he could do. And then what happened with us happened, and I asked him. I knew he toyed with the idea of exploring his options but couldn’t commit, so I took a shot. And the rest is history.
Do me a favour, though, Vic? Please don’t mention it to anyone. It’s Ryan’s business, and I don’t want him in a tight spot with gossip or whatever. I know he would never admit to anyone that he was tiring of his life in the NHL.”
“Of course,” I say.
“Besides, he roped me in to helping with the juniors yesterday, and they think I pried him away from the NHL kicking and screaming. I mean, he laid it on that he was full on pissed, and he probably played that card when he first came here too. Deep down, he needed the kick; I know my brother. He was chasing the next thing, and he didn’t know it at the time, but that was Jenna.”
“What’s next for you, Lee?” I prop myself up on my elbow, straining to see his face in the darkness.
“I guess I need to figure some stuff out.”
I listen to him talk for what feels like hours, and I must have drifted off to sleep because I wake up cold. A note sits on the pillow saying he’s gone to morning skate. A pang of excitement fills me as I read his handwriting; so familiarly untidy:
Chapter 23
Liam
The home crowd cheers as Bettsy gets slammed into the boards near the trapezoid. For a moment, I think he’s going to hit the ice, but he stumbles sideways and regains his balance before dropping his stick.
“You wanna go?” I hear him yelling at the opponent who checked him, and suddenly they’re pulling at each other’s sweaters.
