Page 30 of Grief & Glitter

“Those things aren’t the same as us.”

“No, they’re not.” I looked at him. “You’re good.” His lips parted, but nothing came out. “You’re the first good thing I’ve let myself want in a long time,” I continued. “Not because I thought I should want it. Not because a doctor told me it would help or my teammates decided I needed more friends. I want you because you make me laugh. Because you sit beside me without expecting me to fill every silence. Because you see every fucked-up piece of me, and you don’t look away.”

His eyes had gone suspiciously bright.

“And because I think you’re beautiful,” I added.

“Gids.”

“I’m not shoving you into a dark corner because I’m scared of what someone might say. I don’t want to act as if you’re something I should be ashamed of.”

“I wouldn’t think that.”

“You might not, but I would.” I stared down at his fingers curled around my sleeve. “I’d know I was hiding you, and I’d hate myself for it.”

“You could never hide me. I’m far too fabulous.”

I huffed a laugh. “Obviously.”

His smile appeared, but the worry remained in his eyes. “The fundraiser will be bigger than breakfast with the team.”

“I know.”

“There’ll be sponsors and donors. People with money who think that gives them the right to decide what everyone else should do.”

“I know.”

“And cameras.”

“I know that too.”

“Someone could put us online before we’ve even left the building.”

“Probably.”

“What if they find out I’m an addict?”

“What if they find out that you took control of your addiction and fight it bravely every fucking day?”

His eyes widened. “You’ve really thought about this.”

“Yeah. More than you knew. I’m not saying I won’t be nervous. I probably will be. I’ll wonder who’s looking at us and what they’re thinking. I might freeze if someone asks me a direct question. I might say something stupid.” I moved closer, leaving hardly any space between us. “But I want to walk in with you. I want people to know you’re there with me. I don’t want to spend the whole night pretending you helped me choose a suit and happened to turn up at the same event.”

Ryan swallowed. “And if management doesn’t like it?”

“They employ Walker and Chip. They keep telling everyone hockey is for everyone. They don’t get to change the rules because it’s me.”

“They might try.”

“Then they can talk to me.”

“What if it affects your career?”

There it was. The question he’d been circling from the start.

“Hockey matters to me,” I said carefully. “You know it does.”

“It’s your whole life.”