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Poor Osi.
The six-foot-three Russian goaltender had been in hysterics, having sobbed from the time Ryan returned from the meeting with his coaches to the time he walked out the front door for the last time.
“It’s not goodbye, Os. I’ll be back to visit, I promise,” Ryan assured him, as he cried onto his shoulder and squeezed him, refusing to let go while rambling wildly.
“This is not OK. Is not…OK for me. First I say goodbye to Hayes, now I say goodbye to you. All my best friends? Just gone. I know this is the league, this is how it goes, but…my heart is hurting so much. Is like I’m losing my brother. You are like brother to me, Baylor. I love you.”
Ryan squeezed him. “I love you, too, man. You? Have been the best friend and roommate I could’ve ever asked for. As soon as I get set up in Tampa, I’ll have you down for a visit, OK? You and Nat are welcome any time you want.”
Ryan had tearfully made his way through each of the guys, as they offered their encouragement and well wishes.
“You’re gonna kill it down there, brother. The work you’ve put in? It paid off, kid. I’m fuckin’ gonna miss you, but I’m so excited for your future,” Rizz offered. “It’s bright, Baylor. So bright.”
Then there was Nick. “Mar texted me like, the second you told her you were coming down,” he told him. “She misses you a lot, and she’s super excited to have you stay with them for a bit. A word of advice though, if I may?”
“And what’s that?” Ryan asked, though he was pretty sure he knew where Nick was going with this.
“Whatever you two did last time you lived together? Do the exact opposite of that. ‘Cuz, uh, we all know how that went.”
Ryan laughed, nudging Hayes, who’d been standing by him and refused to leave his side. He’d hoped for a smile or at least a smirk from his boyfriend, but he remained unaffected.
Tyler Hayes had completely shut down.
“Yeah, things are…a lot different now. For both of us. I don’t think that’ll be a problem.”
Ryan had been honored that, last-minute on the day before a holiday, so many of his teammates and friends had shown up to see him off.
It was no secret: The Bridgeport Islanders were the dictionary definition of a hot ass mess, but that’s what Ryan loved about them the most. Not one of them had even so much as bat an eye when he and Hayes came out and revealed they were dating. He’d come to gel with these men on such a level, both professionally and personally, that one of his biggest trepidations about leaving was having to forge those connections all over again with a completely new group of guys.
Would they be as accepting of him?
All of him?
“Hey,” Ryan said, pulling Hayes’s right hand from the wheel, kissing it, then holding it with both of his. “Look at me. We’ll compare our schedules and we’ll make it work. OK? There’s no way we can’t make this work. You make money, I’m gonna be making money. We’ll see each other as much as we can. We can do this, Hayes.” He paused. “Right?”
Hayes nodded, averting his gaze from Ryan’s.
“And I wanna make something very clear before I leave, OK?” Ryan continued.
“What’s that, Rook?”
Ryan reached a hand to Hayes’s chin, gripping it firmly and forcing their eyes to meet, tears steadily streaming down both of their faces. “I need you to stay alive. If something happens to you, there’s not a fucking chance in hell I survive it. You understand me? I need you to…I need you to start fighting like you’ve never fucking fought before in your life, OK? Can you do that for me, baby? Can you fight for me?”
“I’ll try,” Hayes whimpered.
Ryan gripped him up harder. “No. Fuck that. I need you to fight, Hayes. I cannot lose you.” He brought his other hand up to his boyfriend’s face, cradling it, as he leaned over and pressed their foreheads together. “I won’t lose you to this. Tell me you’ll fight. Promise me. Promise me you’ll fight this for me. For us.”
“I’ll…fight this,” he sobbed. “But I might…lose, Rook. What if…I lose?”
Ryan shook his head. “Nope. Don’t say that. You don’t lose, Hayes. You don’t lose.”
“I feel like…I already have. Like…look at me, man. I’m already too…gone.”
Ryan’s sobs synced with his boyfriend’s, as the truck bounced slightly in time with them. “You haven’t…lost. And you’re not…going to. You can’t. I need you.”
They stayed just like that for a while, their foreheads pressed against each other’s, their hands on each other’s faces, and their eyes physically unable to stop shedding tears.
Finally, Hayes pulled away. This was all starting to become too much, as the oxy had worn off and he was beginning to come down. Ryan had made him promise not to take any more pills until he got home so he’d be OK to drive back from the airport, even though, truth be told, he’d probably drive better while high. “Rook, you gotta go. You’re gonna miss your flight.”
