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Or should I just gloss the surface and paint a picture that’s not as bad as it feels?
Rubbing my forehead, I pull away from the curb, trying to decide whether this tightness in my chest is an eagerness to get back to Hockey House or a dread that makes me want to drive like an old man who can’t see straight anymore.
CHAPTER 17
RACHEL
It’s nearly three thirty in the morning when the guys return home. I’ve been sitting on the couch, dozing on and off. Mikayla gave up about an hour ago. We’d finished watching an unmemorable rom-com, and she was romanced out.
“You sure you don’t want to go to bed? Who knows how long the guys will be.”
“I’m staying up.” Nothing she could say would sway me, so she kissed my cheek and padded upstairs.
And I kept waiting.
And worrying.
Wrapping my arms around my knees, I sat in a ball, squished into the corner of the couch and staring at a blank TV screen. I couldn’t bring myself to pick another movie, so I soaked in the sounds of the humming electronics and stared at the couch cushions until my vision blurred.
But then the door clicked, yanking me out of my stupor.
Instantly alert, I got off the couch and shuffled to the entryway.
“Are you guys okay?” My whisper scares the crap out of Ethan.
He jolts with a soft “Ah!” and nearly drops his jacket. “Holy shit, Ray.” Slapping a hand over his heart, he takes a deep breath while I blush up a storm and mumble an apology. “You’re like a ninja.”
I snicker. “Promise I won’t attack you.”
His lips twitch, and he gives me a little wink before asking where Mikayla is.
“In bed already.”
“’Kay.” He turns to check on Liam. “You good?”
“Yeah, man. Thanks for everything. I’ll catch you tomorrow.” Liam’s voice is low and sad. There’s a huskiness to it that I’ve never heard before, and it makes my heart hurt.
Tonight has been rough for him, and as soon as Ethan starts walking up the stairs, I do the only thing I can.
I step into Liam’s space and wrap my arms around him.
He goes still for a second, then lets out a soft sigh before his arms ease around my body and he hugs me back.
For a really long time.
We just stand there in the entryway, him holding me like he’s drawing strength from my soul while I lightly brush my fingers through the back of his short hair.
Eventually, the sound of a door opening upstairs pulls us apart. Liam glances up the stairwell, then guides me out of the entryway and into the living area. The dim lighting I’ve spent the last hour or so sitting in highlights the contours of his face, and I can see how tired he is.
“I guess I should let you get to bed,” I whisper.
He shrugs, letting out another long sigh. “Not sure I can sleep yet anyway. I’m so tired, but…” He rubs his eyes.
The toilet upstairs flushes, and I look to the ceiling before leading him to the couch.
“I should probably let you go to sleep, though. I can’t believe you waited up.”
“Of course I did.” My voice rises with surprise. “You looked so stressed when you left. I had to make sure you were okay.”
