Page 115 of Wyatt

From his son.

Yeah, he was really on his way to being Father of the Year.

“Well, I don’t know what you did, but you were in the zone out there.” Jace came into the therapy room and shut the door behind him. Beyond the glass walls, the guys were coming out of the showers, dressing, getting ready to head to the hotel.

Wyatt just wanted to stay. Right. Here.

Hide, actually.

“Reminded me of the early days, when you showed up in the Blue Ox practice arena, asking for a tryout. I remembered you from when we were scouting you, back when you played with the Bobcats, and you were good. Crazy good. But you lacked this edge. And then you stepped into the crease for your tryout, a little desperate after failing in Edmonton, and there was something different about you. You’d grown up, maybe. Definitely a different man than the boy I saw in college. Fierce. Driven.”

Jace leaned against a therapy table and picked up a roll of tape, rolling it between his fingers. “I can’t figure you out, Guns. First we nearly have an international incident, I spend the night in a Russian prison—that was fun—and then I see you jump the train in some Podunk town. I’m trying to figure out how to explain to the press—not to mention our GM—that you went rogue on us, when you show up at the airport with a woman. Afriendthat you weirdly picked up in Siberia and brought home like a souvenir.”

Wyatt’s lips tightened.

“I admit, I wasn’t sure you’d show up for practice—but then you do and frankly, you play like you have something to prove—”

“Don’t I? You were the one who told me you would start Kalen.”

Jace set down the tape.

Wyatt got out of the tub, grabbed a towel, and wrapped it around his waist. He was shivering as he walked over to nab a robe from a nearby hook. He couldn’t feel his hips. Frankly, his entire lower body.

“You should get the team doc to check you out.”

“I’m fine.”

“Hardly.”

And then, wouldn’t you know it, to back up Jace’s words, Wyatt turned and his hip flared to life in a bone-deep pain. Gripping the side of the tub, he bit back a groan.

“For cryin’ out loud, sit down, Wy.” Jace vised his arm and practically pulled Wyatt over to the table.

“I’m just stiff.” Wyatt slid onto the table. “Two days on a train, plus a pretty miserable ride over the ocean in the back of a cargo plane.”

Jace gave him a look of horror. “Acargoplane? Why in the world didn’t you just wait for another flight?”

Wyatt lay back. “No flights for a couple days. And Coco had to get here. Her son is in the hospital.”

Jace said nothing.

Wyatt looked at him and he didn’t know why, but, “He’s my son too.”

Jace raised an eyebrow.

“I didn’t know about him.” Wyatt held up a hand. “And before you start thinking it was a one-night stand—”

“I wasn’t—”

“I love her. I have for years. I wanted to marry her.”

“That’s what this trip to Russia was all about? Getting your girl back?”

Sorta. But Wyatt didn’t know how to explain it so he simply nodded.

Jace shook his head. “Well, if there’s one thing about you, Wyatt, you are singularly focused.”

“Thanks?”