Page 71

The force of it held Cole in his seat. He had known Ford was afraid. He hadn’t understood that Ford was walking into the arena every day wondering whether his career had already ended without giving him a final moment to recognize it.

Ford turned away and braced himself against the table. His head lowered between his shoulders. “There. Now you know.”

Cole rose carefully. Anger had given Ford somewhere to put the fear, and Cole could feel how close he was to losing even that. “Come here.”

Ford looked over his shoulder, eyes bright and furious. “You don’t have to fix it.”

“I know.” Cole stopped behind him without touching, close enough that Ford could choose the rest. “I can’t fix it. I just don’t want you dealing with it alone.”

Ford faced the table again. His next breath broke on the way out, and the sound went straight through Cole. For a long moment, Ford held himself rigid. Then he shifted back until his shoulder found Cole’s chest.

Cole closed his arms around him. Ford didn’t soften immediately, but he stayed, and that was enough for Cole to tighten the hold. He pressed his mouth to Ford’s temple. Beneath his arms, Ford’s breathing slowed until the rise and fall of his chest matched Cole’s.

“I’m sorry,” Cole murmured.

Ford turned within the embrace and rested his forehead against Cole’s jaw. Cole closed his eyes. This was all he’d wanted from Ford during the past week—not an answer about hockey, only the chance to be close while neither of them had one.

Ford’s body tensed again. He drew away before Cole understood what had changed and reached for his phone. “Your career’s finally opening up. You don’t need to spend this part of it carrying mine.”

Cole’s arms fell empty. He stared at Ford, trying to follow the turn from stay with me to go without me. “Those things aren’t connected.”

“Of course they are.” Ford faced him but kept the table at his back. “If Chicago calls again, you go. If another organization wants you next year, you listen.”

“I know how my contract works.” Cole fought to keep the hurt out of his voice.

Ford was trying to protect him. Cole knew that. But every reassurance sounded more like Ford preparing to lose him.

Impatience flashed across Ford’s face. “Then why are we arguing?”

“Because you’re talking about my future like you’re not in it.”

Saying it aloud tore through the excuses Cole had been making for him all week. Ford wasn’t only refusing to talk about his own career. He was building Cole a life that wouldn’t require him to stay.

Ford flinched, and Cole closed the distance between them before he could retreat again. “If Chicago calls, I report. That’s business. But you don’t get to erase yourself from everything that comes after.”

“I know.” Ford’s jaw flexed, contradicting him.

“Do you?” Cole lowered his voice, but he couldn’t take the strain out of it. “Because every time you tell me how far I could go, it feels like you’re asking me to go there without you.”

Ford’s face opened before he could stop it. Fear, not denial. He looked at Cole as if he’d only just realized how his encouragement sounded from the other side.

“I won’t be the reason you give something up,” Ford said. His voice had lost its edge. “I won’t let loving me hold you back.”

“You don’t get to make that decision by yourself.”

Ford shook his head. “What decision?”

“Whether you’re part of what I want.” Cole’s voice broke, and he hated that Ford heard it. He hated more that Ford looked stricken, as though Cole’s love had become another wound he needed to manage.

Cole turned toward the door.

“That’s not what I’m saying.” Ford caught his elbow before he made it a full step. When Cole faced him, Ford’s hold loosened as soon as their eyes met, leaving Cole caught between leaning into the contact and waiting to see if Ford would keep it. “I know you love me.”

“Then why do you keep talking like loving you is a mistake I haven’t figured out yet?” Cole asked. “Why can’t you believe I know what I want?”

Ford’s fingers tightened once. “I do.”

“You don’t.” Cole watched the denial form and spoke before Ford could give it to him. “Not when you keep telling me what I should want instead of asking.”