Does it mean that we are truly not aligned with the boundaries of this relationship and where it could possibly go? I have no clue, because honestly...I don't want to think about it. I'm so firmly entrenched in the mindset that he needs to be my little secret that I can't see past that.
"You look like you're holding a snake in your hand," Ryker says, and my eyes drag up slowly.
I wince apologetically and give him a tremulous smile. "I didn't get you anything."
"So what," he says with a shrug of his shoulders, and then nudges me with his knee. "Open it."
I reach inside the bag and pull out a square jewelry box covered in red velvet. My heart starts skittering out of control, and I have to believe that there is some type of phenomenon that occurs in a woman's body when she's presented with a jewelry box.
Flipping the lid open, I see two small silver bracelet charms--or maybe white gold--I can't tell. One is a goalie mask and the other is the Olympic rings. I rub my finger over them for a moment, unbelievably choked up over how perfect this gift is.
"I noticed you don't wear much jewelry but that you do have a charm bracelet. I saw a tornado, which I assume represents the Cold Fury; interlocking hearts, which I'm betting represents your dad; and a pair of high-heeled shoes, which I'm assuming means you're just a woman who loves shoes."
My eyes rise to his, blinking hard to dispel the sting. He reaches out and chucks me under the chin, lightening the moment. "But I didn't see anything that represented you as a hockey player, and that is a very important part of your life. So I figured these would be nice to add."
I shake my head, lowering my gaze back to the charms to look at them just another moment before I close the box. I set it on the bed beside me and immediately rise up to my knees on the bed. I scoot in closer to Ryker and drape my arms over his shoulders, clasping my hands behind his neck. A very soft kiss and I whisper, "That's the nicest and most thoughtful gift I ever received."
He can hear the emotion in my voice. I think he senses that kneeling before him is a woman that could be on the verge of cracking. But Ryker is a man that is intuitively in touch with his surroundings and his judgment. He knows that I'm the type of woman who would be ashamed if I cracked.
So he lightens the mood again. "So that means I'm still getting the blow job, right?"
I grin and nod my head. "Oh, yeah...you're definitely getting that, and maybe even a little more."
His arms come around my waist with sudden speed and then he's propelling us sideways onto the mattress, where we lie facing each other, my arms still wrapped around his neck, his gripping me by my hips.
Our noses almost touch, and I smile at him. "Merry Christmas, Ryker."
"Back at ya, babe," he says lightly, then flips to his back so I can give him my own little present.
Chapter 15
Ryker
I burst through the emergency room doors, absolutely frantic and lost as to what to do. When I got a call twenty minutes ago from Ruby's school telling me that there'd been an accident, I literally thought I was having a stroke. I broke out in a sweat, my pulse went through the roof, and my vision dimmed. I was at home, having just finished a light workout because we had a home game this evening and was talking to Gray on the phone.
She's in Boston for a few days and getting ready to head across the Charles River to MIT where she'd be giving her presentation at their Sports Analytics Conference. I was just wishing her luck when another call started beeping in. Although I hated to get off the phone with Gray, because I was indeed missing her, when I saw it was Ruby's school calling, I knew I couldn't ignore it.
After a hasty goodbye to Gray, I answered the call and faced my worst nightmare as a parent.
I don't even remember driving from my house to the hospital. I was still in my sweaty shirt and shorts, forgot to grab my wallet, and was about to come out of my skin with fear because I knew very little about what happened to Ruby. All I was told was that she fell off the monkey bars at school and they thought she had a broken arm. The school nurse thought it was appropriate to go ahead and call an ambulance to take her to the hospital, and that is where I really started freaking out.
How bad was it that it required an ambulance?
I stride up to the registration desk, and when the woman behind it looks up at me, her eyes get big and round with recognition. She starts to give me a fan-girl smile, but whatever she sees on my face makes her back off.
"Can I help you?" she asks crisply.
"My daughter was brought in by ambulance...Ruby Evans," I say urgently as I lean over and put my hands on the desk. I tap my thumbs with nervous energy.
"Let me look her up," she says, and starts working her keyboard. "Yes, she's out of triage and in one of the ER bays."
Efficiently the woman picks up the phone, hits a button, and within seconds she says, "Yes, I have Ruby Evans's father here for her."
After a tiny pause, she hangs up and nods to the left while hitting a button. "Just on through that door and they'll direct you back."
The door starts swinging open slowly and my blood pressure starts to rise as I walk through, absolutely dreading what I might find. I honestly don't know if I can handle one of my kids being in pain. It was absolute torture watching the girls cut their teeth, so I can't even imagine a broken bone.
A nurse meets me and whether she recognizes me or not, she efficiently takes me back to a curtained room where I can hear Ruby crying. For the first time in my life, my heart is broken. Absolutely shredded, and I think it might be beyond repair.
The nurse pulls back the curtain and I blink my eyes hard not to cry when I see my daughter. A nurse is leaning over her bed, trying to comfort her, and a doctor is starting to unravel the splint the school nurse or EMT must have put on her arm.
I walk up to the bed and the doctor gives me a cursory glance. His eyes flare as he recognizes me but he then turns his attention back to Ruby's arm. The nurse moves out of my way and when Ruby sees me, she starts crying harder.
Leaning over, I put my hand on her forehead and kiss her cheek. "Oh, baby," I coo at her, and she sobs hysterically.
Fucking hardest, worst, most miserable thing I've ever had happen to me. It's hurting me so bad right now I have a brief moment of clarity where I think to myself that I will try to dissuade every one of my friends from ever having children, knowing that this type of heartbreak can exist.
But Ruby is reacting to my distress, so I have to slap myself mentally.
Get a fucking grip, Brick. Your child needs you to man up.
"Hey, hey, hey," I talk softly as the doctor removes more bandaging. Ruby's eyes hold mine and she gives a hiccup. "What do we do when we get hurt?"
She hesitates a moment and then says, "Rub some dirt in it."
I smile encouragingly at her and nod. "That's right. I know it hurts now, baby, but this doctor will make it all better."
I kiss Ruby on the forehead, and just as my lips are leaving her warm, sweaty skin, the doctor pulls the splint apart and I almost pass out over the sight that greets me.
Ruby's forearm is broken so badly it's almost bent in half, with the top of her hand lying near her elbow.
Nausea hits me so hard I almost lose my postworkout protein shake, but my hand immediately comes up to the side of Ruby's face to shield the view from her. I don't need her seeing that again.
Over the next thirty minutes, it's a circus of activity around my daughter. An IV is started and she's given pain medication that almost knocks her all the way out, which I'm grateful for. There's no rubbing dirt in an injury like that. X-rays are done, but they only confirm what the doctor tells me...that it's a break that's going to require surgery.
He puts a request into the pediatric orthopedic surgeon on call and estimates that they could book an OR for late afternoon, but that the ortho would make those arrangements. Before he leaves the curtained room, he shakes my hand and says, "You won't be making the game tonight."
The game?
Fuck, I'd completely forgotten about it, and as I glance at my watch, I see that I'm supposed to be at the arena in a little less than an hour.
A quick glance over at Ruby, and I see she's sleeping. I step out of the curtained room, take a deep breath, and make a phone call to Coach Pretore. He doesn't answer, so I leave him a quick message. I continue through my list of people who need to know what's going on. I can't reach our assistant coach or even Alex, although I do reach Sutton. Not much she can do, but she assured me she'd keep trying to reach Alex and would let Kate know so she could handle Violet.
Finally, I call the one person I really don't want to talk to.
Our assistant GM, Frank Lessier. I'd much prefer to call Gray, because not only is she just nicer to deal with, for some reason I know the sound of her voice would comfort me. But she's at the MIT conference and can't be bothered.
I grimace when Frank answers on the second ring. "Lessier."
"Frank...it's Ryker Evans."
"What's up?" he asks in a clipped tone. For some reason, he doesn't like me either.
"I'm at the hospital. My daughter has a broken arm and is going into surgery in a few hours. I'm obviously not going to make the game."
I don't know why I expect it, but I do. I expect the fucker to show an ounce of sympathy. I expect him to ask details of what happened, and offer to help in any way. Instead, he's grouchy when he says, "You can't get someone to come sit with her? Maybe Kate or something?"
"Are you fucking kidding me?" I growl at him, not giving a shit that he's one of my superiors. "Are you seriously that much of an asshole?"
Frank is stunned silent, which is a good thing. No telling what else I'd say to him. Instead, I say, "You better contact Max and give him the news. He's going to want time to prepare."
I hang up the phone, stuff it into my pocket, and scrub my hands over my face with exhaustion. Did Frank just now represent to me the philosophy of this organization? That a win is more important than our families?
Shaking my head, I start pacing the length of the emergency room. There's no way. I know without a doubt Gray wouldn't expect me to be there, even if we were in the final game of the championship.
I stop and pull my phone out. Speaking of Gray...
I send her a quick text. Ruby broke her arm. Bad. Having surgery. Max will be in for me.
I know she'll text me back as soon as she can. Or call. Yeah, she'll probably call.
I know this because over the past month since we spent Christmas Day together, things have actually sort of progressed with us. I'm not foolish enough to think I charmed Gray--literally--to the point she's giving this a real chance. But I do think she's taken with the feelings that come with being with someone you care about while rocking it between the sheets. The intimacy is new to her, scary at times, but mostly she's entranced by it.
She's an honest and up-front woman. She told me as much.
While we still very much need to hide our relationship, we strive to see each other as much as we can. Even though it's risky for her to come to my room during away games, we still do it. And it's not just to have sex. There have been a few nights we've been so tired because of our schedule we merely lie in bed, cuddle, and talk until one of us falls asleep. It's always nerve-racking, though, when it's time for Gray to make her escape.
The easiest way for us to be together has been Gray coming to my house during the day while the girls are at school. I might fix us lunch and we'll sit and talk, or sometimes we just fuck hard and fast. One day I was up in the management offices to get a copy of a product-endorsement contract and I stopped in briefly just to see Gray. I only intended to say hello, but she beckoned me in and I shut the door behind me.
That led to a quick make-out session that left us both feeling itchy and unsatisfied.
Past that, we talk on the phone a lot. Or text. It's a daily thing now, and it's not only habit to include her in my day in some way, but it's becoming almost a necessity. I think the mere fact that I see Gray as a source of comfort today speaks volumes.
Still...that's about as far as it goes right now. We can't go out in public, so I can't take her out on a date. We can't see each other on the weekends because I have the girls. While these are things I would do in a heartbeat and say fuck the consequences, I will never push Gray to give me that. I would never do something that could harm her or her career in any way.
So I make do with what she can give me.
I walk back to Ruby's bed, but before I can even make it there, Gray calls.
"What happened?" she asks in a panicky, concerned voice.
I tell her the details, including my conversation with Frank. She actually hisses at that and her voice is furious when she says, "That fucker. That motherfucker."
And for the first time in hours, I actually laugh. "Language, Miss Brannon."
"I'm sorry, but that really pisses me off. You shouldn't give it another thought. It's why we have two goalies on a team and the ability to call another up from the minors if we need it...because shit happens."
"I know," I assure her, so she calms down. "It's all good now. How did your talk go?"
"Fuck the talk," she blusters at me. "How's Ruby doing?"
I pull back the edge of the curtain, see she's still conked out, and smile. "She's a trouper. I told her to rub some dirt in it and she hasn't cried since. Of course, that probably makes me a shitty dad. You should see her arm, Gray. It's really bad. I almost tossed my cookies."
She makes a cooing noise at me. "She's in good hands now, though, and she'll be feeling better in no time."
"I know," I say, and then glance at my watch. "Listen...I have to call Kate and tell her what's going on so she can handle Violet, and Hensley as well. I'll text you when I have more details about the surgery."
Gray doesn't respond right away, but then she hesitantly asks, "My flight back to Raleigh is at seven tomorrow morning. Want me to try to get out tonight?"
My heart cramps slightly over her offer. But it's an empty offer, because honestly, what purpose would that serve? It's not like she can come up to the hospital and sit with me. It's not like she can mother Ruby or make her feel any better.
"Nah," I tell her firmly. "Keep your flight. Talk later?"
"Sure," she says, and I think that's relief I hear in her voice. I'm not sure if she's relieved I let her off the hook or that we'll talk later, but it doesn't matter because she then says, "I miss you."
It's the first words we've spoken to each other that affirm we have something building between us. I always knew that it would never be just about the sex with Gray, but that right there? It tells me she believes that as well.
"I miss you too."
--
I kick back the blue vinyl hospital recliner that sits next to Ruby's bed and try to nestle in. The springs squeak and one pokes me in the ass, so I try to adjust my weight to the side. I just turned off the TV, happy and relieved the Cold Fury trounced Montreal. Not sure how I feel about Max having a shutout on his first game back. On the one hand, I'm genuinely happy for the dude. As a goalie, it's an awesome feeling knowing you stuffed every fucking shot that came your way. On the other hand, this is going to stir the pot big time with renewed debate over who the starting goalie should be for the Cold Fury.
I refuse to join in on the debate. Of course, I want it to be me. Of course, I think it should be me because I'm hot and consistent. Max is back off a serious injury and has one game under his belt for the season. A brilliant game, no doubt, but just a game.
Ultimately, it's not my decision. Luckily, it's not Gray's decision either, because that is exactly where things would start to get awkward. It's Coach Pretore's decision and I'll abide by it. He's done this team right in the past and if he thinks Max is it...I'll support it. I'll ride pine and be ready to go in if needed.
I'll hate it. But I'll do it.
Ruby stirs a little and I stand poised to get up if she needs something. But she settles and gets pu
lled back under the narcotic fog they have her in. The surgery was pretty short; just under half an hour. The doctor had to put in two pins, and because it was so late in the day by the time they got a surgical suite available, they wanted her to stay overnight. She'll go home sometime tomorrow, where I know she'll be more comfortable. I had to deal with Hensley in all of that, who freaked out big time. I had to listen to her whine about what a terrible mother she was for not being there when this happened, and while I get why she's upset, I told her she needed to focus on Ruby and not herself. I suggested she catch the next flight out of Boston that was available and she should be here before too long.
Sutton came by and stayed with me while Ruby was in surgery, bringing me food, fresh clothes, and my wallet. Kate took Violet to her house, so that worry was taken care of. Gray called once while Sutton was sitting next to me, so I couldn't answer. I sent her a text update and promised her I'd call later.
Now it's later and I'm hesitating.
I'm hesitating because I've had hours to think about our situation and this accident with Ruby made things a little clearer. While Gray and I are becoming closer, and feelings are getting stronger, we are still vast oceans apart. Because we are a secret, we can't even be there to fully support each other. For fuck's sake, I had to decline her call when Sutton was sitting next to me.
Flip the script...what if her father died? How could I take a backseat and watch her deal with it on her own, unable to give support and care because no one can know about us?
All of this has just made me think a little more about our future, and whether or not it's stupid to let this go further. We'd be investing more emotion, which would make it all that much harder when we finally both realized that this is not an optimal relationship.
Am I ready to give up?
Fuck no, because I also realize I'm operating on exhaustion, fear, and worry. Decisions in those circumstances are not wise. But I do think Gray and I need to talk about this. At the very least, I need to decide what I can ultimately live with and set my course.
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