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“How did I do that?” he snapped, anger rising in his voice. He stepped in closer, and I could’ve shoved him with one hand, but I didn’t. “I’m being real with you. You’rehurtbad. You tore your ACL. That’s a career-ending injury. The doc thinks because you’re young, you can recover from this, but it isn’t going to happen overnight. You need physical therapy. Fuck. I’m not being an asshole to you. Do you honestly think I don’t want you back on the ice with us? You’re part of our team!”
“Get out.” My voice shook and I bit down hard on my lip. “I don’t care. About any of it.Go.”
I was shutting down, the world around me bleak, and it made me mad. I fucking hated that it had come to this, and Ihurt, emotionally and physically. I’d done this once before, when Dad left. It fucking hurt, and I hated it all. I didn’t know what was worse, the pain in my knee or the agony in my heart from losing something else I loved. But it wasn’t just hockey. I saw whatever I had with Atlas disappearing with the rest of it. I’d tried so hard, and I’d failed.
The Wystan Finch everyone knew smiled and made jokes, but how could I when everything I wanted was thrown into the blender of life?
“No.” Atlas stalked around to the other side of my bed and dragged the seat Mom had been sitting on closer. He sat down and crossed his arms, furiously stubborn. Asshole. “I’m not going anywhere. You’ll need to call security to make me leave this room, Birdy, because I’m staying right here.”
I hated him. So why did my heart ache so much right now?
19
ATLAS
I walkedout of the early morning practice and muggy air hit my face. It was unseasonably warm again and thunder rolled not too far away. I blinked up at the gray sky and the scent of ozone hung in the air. With the way things were swirling, I wouldn’t be shocked if this was tornado weather, though I didn’t bother checking my phone. It was supposed to be real fall weather again tomorrow.
“Oh, this is going to be a great day,” I grumbled, then spotted Wy with his hair tussled by the wind, not seeming to notice anything going on around him.
God, he looked good.
He’d parked his ass on top of a round boulder that was a part of the landscaping. His feet were surrounded by marigolds, and he’d even trampled a few to get to his spot, but I doubted anyone would yell at him. He’d insisted on getting up and coming with me to practice this morning, and there hadn’t been any talking him out of it. He was supposed to start back to classes today, too, so it was even harder to get him to listen when I told him to just relax instead of getting up three hours before he needed to be on his feet. I walked toward him with my book bag slung over my shoulder, and he was busy tapping one of his crutches against the ground, clearly agitated.
I’d noticed him standing behind the boards for a few minutes while we were practicing.
Thunder rumbled overhead and lightning forked, blinding me for a second. The rain hadn’t started yet, but the clouds hung low and would probably let go any minute. Wy didn’t bother looking up. It was like he was trapped in his own head.
“Hey, what are you doing, Birdy?” I called over.
He shrugged and glanced up when I got nearer. “My physical therapist and Rémi were working with me this morning. They surprised me. Not much I can do yet. They put ice on me. I’m not going to be good enough to come back this season if they won’t let me get started.”
He slapped his crutch against the ground harder, this time knocking the yellow-and-orange bloom off a flower, but he didn’t seem to notice what he was doing. He glanced up at me, and I was stunned by the intense expression on his face. There was something familiar there, almost as if he thought he would never be good enough again.
Maybe he worried he’d never been good enough in the first place.
Staring up at the sky, I stopped at the border between the sidewalk and the flowers. “Don’t you need to start toward your morning class?”
He shrugged. “Yeah.”
Neither of us moved, except for him going back to poking at the dirt with his crutch. The wind blew harder and whistled around the rink. I was trapped watching the emotions skitter across his face, almost like the brewing storm was tossing around things inside him, too. My heart hurt for him. I’d been out for a single game and the sensation of being worse than dirt had nearly strangled me. I tried not to think about missing the game and the bad luck associated with it.
He sighed and glanced up, his gaze making my chest squeeze as I held eye contact with him. “Mom must’ve taken out loans to cover me because when I checked my school account everything was paid, even though the scholarship was definitely withdrawn. I didn’t even know they could fucking do anything like that so quickly.”
He slipped both crutches under his arm, and I huffed out a sigh as I watched him struggle to bend over and pick up his book bag from where it had been leaning next to the boulder. How had he even gotten up there with the squishy, unsteady mulch on the ground? I took his book bag and one crutch, then wrapped my arm around his waist, steadying him so he could hobble out onto the sidewalk. His heat and strength were familiar by now, and I wanted to keep holding him.
“Do you need a hand?” Rain called toward us.
Wy glared at him, and Rain rushed off with a box in his arms, probably to go kiss Coach’s ass or spy on someone else. I hated feeling that way about Rain, but he’d really shown his true colors lately. He was a little too interested in everyone else’s business, and I had a feeling most of the guys knew about me and Wy thanks to him. Nothing bad had happened, just some curious glances thrown our way whenever I was close to Wy.
“We’re good,” Wy called after Rain, almost as if his brain had misfired for a few seconds.
“Are you okay to go to class? What kind of pain meds are you on?” I asked.
He snorted and raised a dark eyebrow in my direction. “No one gives a shit if I’m taking in the info, they just want my ass in the seat. I didn’t pop any pills this morning. I figured I would take the meds when I got home.” He gave me a smile that was all teeth and no joy.
“Come on,” I said, squeezing my hand on the curve of his hip. He stared at me as I held him against my side and carried our stuff. For a moment, the air felt charged the way it had before I’d fucked him in the showers, but he let out a shaky breath, and I felt like an asshole. He wasn’t okay. A light mist brushed my face. Shit, we needed to get going.
I walked him across campus to the Van Buren Building, and my original plan had simply been to get him there, but I ended up taking him inside to the classroom. We stopped at the back, and he gave me a grin as he gratefully sank down into the seat. I handed over his bag before leaning the crutch against his chair. His hands weren’t exactly steady as he fought with the zipper, then dragged out his laptop.
