Page 29 of Back in the Game

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He had only seen Arlo cry once since they’d met, and that was the day Harrison had given in and opened his front door to drag Arlo inside. One moment of weakness, meeting one moment of kindness.

Arlo had clung to him for an hour and sobbed into his chest, ignoring all of Harrison’s attempts to get him into the shower to warm up and change out of his wet clothes. He promised that day that he would never let anyone hurt Arlo again, but he apparently forgot to includehisactions in that promise.

Tears spilled over Arlo’s cheeks, only to be roughly wiped away. Then the anger was back, and Harrison took a breath and mentally braced himself.

“I’m leaving on Monday,” said Arlo. “They want me to come in early and start training since they’re taking a risk with me.”

And because Harrison didn’t want to get in the way of their common dream, and perhaps because he wanted to spare them both from all the hurt, he said, “I’ll drive you to the airport.”

The silence was awkward and lingering, but Fraser offered a tiny distraction by setting his plate down and standing up.

“I’m going for a walk.”

He made it one step before Harrison growled and snapped his fingers. “Keys.”

Fraser pulled his keys from his pocket and fidgeted with them. “But my car is still at the rink…”

“Jett, give me your fucking keys,” Harrison barked, leaving no room for argument. He didn’t look away until the keys were in his hand, and his fingers were hooked in the metal links.

Fraser gave them a nervous frown before hurrying to the front door, being careful not to slam it closed.

“I already know you hid mine,” Arlo muttered.

“Shut up,” said Harrison. “I wanted to wait until tomorrow to have this conversation because I didn’t want to scare the fuck out of Fraser, who has a similar constitution to a woodland creature—”

“Toyoumaybe—”

Harrison stayed quiet until Arlo shut his mouth. Only then did he continue.

“I am a grown-ass man,” said Harrison. “I know I’m not old, and you think it’s somehow mean to leave me here alone with no one to visit, but it’s not as bad as you’re making it in your head. You know that phone device that we’re always fucking around with? You won’t believe this, but we can use it to make video calls and talk over long distances. We don’t have to rely on carrier pigeons to stay in contact. I’m literally a phone call away.”

The anger faded, deflating Arlo’s tense posture. Fuck, he still looked so young. Had Harrison looked that small when he was that age?

“I would love to come with you and go to all your home games, but be honest with yourself, Arlo. If I were there, would you want to spend time with your team and make new friends, or would you be too anxious to hang out with them knowing I was alone and waiting for you to come home?”

Harrison paused to allow time for his words to sink in, not reacting when Arlo’s face fell into his hands in defeat.

This wasn’t the first time this logic had been used in the Killinger family. He could remember having this very conversation with Taylor, only it was Harrison sitting in Arlo’s place, dealing with the weight and fear of heading into the world without that comfort friend by his side.

Taylor had not been the brightest crayon in the box, but his reasoning that day had been sound. Arlo was young and about to get swept up in the best game the world had to offer. He would want to spend time with the guys on his team to solidify bonds that could be carried onto the ice. He would meet new people, new fans, newguys. If Harrison went to Montreal, it would only make them grow apart. It might even grow into resentment.

“I’ll still come to as many games as I can,” said Harrison, offering Arlo a rare and sincere smile. “And when you win the Stanley Cup, I’ll be in the farthest section away from the WAGS, screaming loud enough for you to hear me over the idiots there.”

Nova scotia's go “Whatever,” said Arlo, frowning like the grumpy kid he is. “Jett is here for two more weeks before leaving for training camp.”

That was out of left field, but Harrison took the bait.

“Your point?”

“Fucks sake, Harrison.” Arlo took a breath, held it, and then let it out. “Jett wants to be your friend. You seem happier and more yourself when he’s around. You guys should hang out until he leaves, that way you’ll have something to do, and I won’t be so worried about you while I’m trying to sort my shit.”

Yeah, not happening.

“What are we supposed to do? Do you want me to take him out for walks? We have nothing in common.”

“Other than hockey,” said Arlo. “Which is the only thing you idiots need to have in common to bond.”

Harrison folded his arms, looking as unconvinced as possible.