Page 196 of Pucking Wild

He just shrugs. “Why do it wrong when I can just pay to have someone do it right? MK knows. He’s cool about it. He always breaks things down to make sure I understand.”

“And the beach? The release form?” I remember he made a joke of turning away, like he was hiding his answers so I didn’t cheat.

“I had Joey fill it out when you walked away,” he admits. “I said I hit my hand on a weight machine at the gym. He didn’t ask questions.”

Is it odd to say that I’m impressed? His skill at coping is off the charts. “I didn’t see it,” I admit. “Ryan, I didn’t know.”

“That’s kind of the point,” he replies. “I don’t want people knowing this about me, Tess. I don’t want them judging me or pitying me or calling me stupid. I’m not stupid, I—" He groans, glancing my way. “I really didn’t want you to know.”

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t want to give you one more reason to think I’m no good for you,” he admits.

My heart stops. “Oh…Ryan—”

“You know it’s true,” he snaps, glaring at me. “Tess, you’re so fucking smart. You’re a lawyer and you run nonprofits.” He shakes his head. “I just play hockey—”

“Don’t,” I say, stepping forward and grabbing his wrist. “Don’t say that. There is nothing wrong with you, Ryan. I would never say that. I would never eventhinkit. And you don’t have to carry this alone,” I add. “You don’t have to hide or be ashamed or think people would actually choose not to be with you over having a learning difference.”

“I’ve been hiding it for so long,” he say, the pain evident in his voice. “I’m so fucking tired. This shit is hard enough for me to deal with every day without other people piling on.”

“And Troy piled on, didn’t he?”

“He’s a fucking asshole.” He says the words, and I know they’re meant to imply his indifference, but I can see it in his eyes: Ryan is anything but indifferent to the insults Troy flung his way.

“What did he say to you?” I ask, squeezing his wrist.

But Ryan pulls away.

“Ryan—”

“All I am is hockey,” he says again. “It’s all I have to offer you, Tess. I have no other way to earn a living. My dyslexia is so fucking severe—” He groans, pacing away. Behind him, the thunderhead rolls closer. The static rises in the air, the threat of rain looming.

“I barely made it through school,” he goes on. “They passed me through high school on a technicality. I took to the draft the first chance I had because I was never going to survive college. Tess, if I don’t have hockey, I have nothing. I have to play and earn and stay on the ice as long as possible. It’s not just about me and you and the life I wanna make for us. You know I’m putting Cassie through college too. And I’m hoping my mom will retire this year. It’s all on me.”

My heart thrums, loving how well he cares for those he loves. “Oh, honey, and no one can take that from you—”

“Thiscan,” he shouts, shaking the papers at me. “I think this is a restraining order. Which means that if I get close to you, I can go to jail. Dealing with some bad press is one thing. Even with bad press, they’ll still let me play. But a criminal record for breaking a restraining order is a total non-fucking-starter. I’ll lose everything. My mom—my sister—” He spins away, shoulders heaving with emotion.

After a moment, I hold out my hand. “Give them to me, Ryan.”

He doesn’t turn around.

“Please,” I beg. “You said you trust me, remember? Did you mean it, or has this all been about the thrill of the chase?”

He spins around with a glare. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You trust me when we’re naked. You trust me with your body. Trust me with your heart too. Trust me, Ryan. I’m not going anywhere. I’m sticking. You’re sticking, and I’m sticking too. I can help you. Iwillhelp you.” I hold out my hand again, waiting.

Slowly, he nods and hands the papers over.

I take them, and he holds his phone flashlight over the pages. I squint, trying to make out the text. He’s right, it looks like someone reduced the print size to like eight percent. “Babe, I can barely read this either. I don’t think you can even file it looking like this. A judge would have a cow.” I scan the pages as best I can, checking the signatures. Slowly, I look up, a smile spreading on my face.

Ryan holds his breath. “Wait, Tess—fuck, why are you smiling?”

I drop the papers to my side, breathing a sigh of relief. “Because we’ve got him,” I whisper.

“What?”

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