Page 44 of Hockey Boy
“Oh yeah? Planning it without me now?”
She rolls her eyes as she laughs. “Figured you were done planning now that you got what you wanted.”
I drape my arms over the back of the hot tub and sink a little lower. “And what’s that?”
“Never mind that,” she says, waving her hands under the water. “How was your day?”
I allow her to change the subject without argument. We both know why I was helping her plan the wedding, so there’s no sense in revisiting that conversation. “It was okay. Got a skate in this morning. Hit the gym after, had lunch, saw my therapist, then took a nap.”
“You see a therapist?” Lennox asks, gripping the bench on either side of her thighs. There’s no judgment in her tone, just genuine interest.
I nod. “Annual visits are a team requirement. I just turned it into a weekly thing.”
She’s quiet, thoughtful, and interested, so I find myself continuing.
“Sometimes, after a game, I’d find it hard to breathe, and not just after the losses. The wins were often worse. The heaviness would settle in, and then I’d get angry at myself for notbeinghappier.” I shrug. “Don’t get me wrong, I can smile along with the best of them. I’d never drag my team down.”
The genuine concern in her eyes makes my chest go tight. Needing a break from her scrutiny, I let out a long breath and dip my head beneath the water. Why am I sharing all of this? I want to show her I can handle our arrangement. Instead, I’m proving to her that I’m the kind of person whose feelings she’ll to tiptoe around. I breach the surface and smile. “Anyway, tell me?—”
“Don’t do that.”
I blink the water from my eyes and rake my fingers through my hair to get it out of my face. “Do what?”
“Don’t hide yourself from me. Don’t make yourself smaller, or happier, oranything-er, than you are. If this is going to work, I need you to be real with me. If you need something, tell me. If you feel a certain way, express it. Promise me you won’t be anything but real when it’s just us.”
My stomach twists at the request. Total transparency? If it’s possible, then I’ll do it. I’ll do anything she asks. “Fine. What I need right now is for you to take my mind off this conversation.”
“Aiden.”She tilts her head and gives me a disapproving frown.
I hold up my hands. “Lex, I’m being serious. I’m new to this sharing the real me thing. Unless you want me to shut down or to break out in song—both coping mechanisms, I’m told—I need to change the subject. Please. It can be anything; just talk.”
For a moment, she blinks at me, her lip caught between her teeth. “Shit,” she breathes out. “My mind literally went blank.”
I cough out a laugh. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, like there’s nothing in here.” She taps on her head. “Nada.”
I suck in a harsh breath, willing myself to focus on her and not the emotions we’ve dredged up. The emotions now swirling beneath the surface, threatening to pull me under.
I’ve never told anyone about my depression diagnosis. Never admitted that I see a therapist weekly. The guys would be concerned about all the pressure they put on me during games. There’s a good chance they wouldn’t trust me to be center. Sometimes I wonder why they do. If they should?—
“Breathe,” she says, pushing off the edge of the hot tub and coming to sit beside me. The warm water sloshes over my torso as she settles so she’s facing me.
Obediently, I suck in a lungful of air. I didn’t realize I was holding my breath. As I exhale, I stare into her blue eyes. Once again, there’s zero judgment. Just empathy.
“I’m right here with you,” she says, placing a hand on my chest.
Swallowing thickly, I shift so I’m facing her, one leg pulled up on the bench, and grasp her thighs, needing to ground myself to her. To calm myself. I don’t expect her to climb on top of me. To straddle me. But when she does, my brain short-circuits in a completely different way.
“Is this okay?” she mumbles, eyeing me cautiously.
Settling with my back against the jets, I grip her ass and pull her closer, hugging her to my body. “Yes.”
She loops her arms around my neck and hugs me back. The simple move pulls a sigh from deep within me. In the past week, Lennox has kissed me. She’s danced with me. She’s spent countless hours planning a wedding with me. But this is the first time she’s hugged me. And unlike our kiss, which was meant to prove something, this is just for us. For me. She’s holding on to me, her head cradled on my shoulder, our bodies pressed tightly together. My very being shifts as our hearts beat a steady rhythm in time. A door that’s been locked up tight for years creaks open in my chest. I relax into the embrace, letting go of all the worries weighing me down, and breathe, enjoying this moment with my old friend.
“I read a good book today,” she murmurs, her breath skating across the damp skin of my neck.
I think my heart is beating louder than her voice.