But Marie had convinced him, in his post-surgical meds-and-brain-fog, to agree to a rehab center outside Seattle. Better facilities, great staff, and higher security, apparently. A place where the rich and famous went when their problems were hip replacements and slipped discs instead of booze and pills. Three hours up the coast from Portland.
His brain added,“A five-hour drive for Rusty.”Not that Rusty would be making that trip. The ECHL season had ended four days ago with the Gryphons out of the playoffs, losing an away game in Sacramento. Cross hadn’t even watched the game live, what with the issues of moving to the rehab, setting up his computer access and grinding fatigue that knocked him outwhenever the pain was under control. He had recorded it and watched the loss later, and sent Rusty commiseration texts and a couple of suggestions next day. Rusty texted back briefly.
But season’s end meant Rusty had only seven days to move out of his league-funded room. He was busy packing and preparing for a drive to Kansas.
Cross didn’t let himself think about how he’d feel with Rusty two thousand miles away. With two broken legs, Cross wasn’t going to be up for anything active for at least two months, probably a lot more. Really, text and Face Time would be the same whether Rusty was two hours’ or three days’ drive off. It shouldn’t matter.
There was no reason he felt so hollow. Like his chest was empty inside.
Well, hockey. He’d miss the whole playoffs, however far the team could get. He might trek down to a home game since they played in Portland games three and four. He could afford cushy transport and he’d be better by then, even if the thought of moving more than he had to, of another jostling, jolting three-hour ride, made him break out in a sweat. But it wouldn’t be the same, sitting in the press box watching.
Nothing was going to be the same.
I had it together finally, the life I always wanted. It’s not fair.
He rubbed at his eyes irritably with his wrists.Winners never cry.Cross knew how toxic that was, but still heard his grandfather’s loud, sharp voice in his head when things got tough.
A knock at the door pulled him out of his pity party. He ran a hand over his head, straightened up in his chair, cursing when that tweaked his elevated ankle, and called, “Come in.”
The door opened and Rusty stepped inside. “Hey, is this an okay time?”
God, yes.Cross was overwhelmed with how much he wanted a hug, but cleared his throat and said, “Of course. You’re always welcome. But what are you doing here?”
“Well, I’m on my way home—” Rusty flinched and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “Well, to Kansas. To the ranch for the summer. And since I was driving, I figured I’d come see you.”
“Seattle’s not between Eugene and Kansas.” Cross could hear the grump in his tone, couldn’t control it.
“Did you not want me to come?” Rusty looked uncertain.
He’s nineteen and he reached out when I didn’t.“No, of course I want you here. It’s just out of your way.”
“I’d drive farther than that to see you.”
“Thank you.” Cross swallowed anything else he might’ve said. “Come on in, shut the door and sit down. The game’s about to start.”
Rusty’s smile lit the small room. “Yeah? Cool.” After closing the door, he pulled the armchair out of the corner and up alongside Cross. He hesitated, then leaned slowly Cross’s way, lips parted but eyes asking permission.
Cross couldn’t disappoint that look. He murmured, “Hey, there,” and tilted across the gap.
Rusty took that as the invitation it was, cupped the back of Cross’s head in his long fingers and kissed him. Not a peck, butnot the kind of heat they’d found together the last time, before this new reality.
The TV view shifted to the arena, warmups finishing, and the change in sounds broke them apart. Rusty looked like he wanted to say something, but came out with, “You buzzed your hair again. Looks good.”
“I had the stylist here do it. One less thing to take care of.”
“Ooh, in-house stylist.” Rusty folded his lanky frame into the chair. “Fancy place.”
“Yeah, well, Marie picked it. Security and all.” Which made him raise an eyebrow at Rusty. “How did you get in? No one called me.”
“I guess Marie had me on the family list.” Rusty managed a shadow of his mischievous grin. “Your sister loves me.”
So do I.Cross shoved that inappropriate thought down deep. It was just the meds, making him emotional. “Good thing. You donotwant to be up against Marie if she doesn’t like you.”
“Tough big sister, huh?”
“Very. Which was lucky for me. She wanted to be part of the business, to follow in Dad’s footsteps, write code and help handle the money. That left me free not to have to.”
“Would your parents have made you give up hockey otherwise?”
