Page 74 of Bro Code

He was glad that he’d come. He was going to come back. It wouldn’t be easy, and he wasn’t convinced this was the end of the arguments with Dad. But he missed Chloé, and he was going to try and repair things with Manman, at least. It was worth it to try. They didn’t have infinite time. But maybe they had enough for that.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Riley

His first practice back, four days after the incident, Riley wasn’t even allowed off the bench. He had to show up and suit up and then just sit there for ninety minutes, watching everyone else skate. It was freezing.

He was impatient to get back on the ice, but it was a slow progression to get there. After forty-eight-hours of rest, he’d done an evaluation and been allowed to come to a team briefing. From there, he’d been allowed to get on a treadmill. The next morning, slow, careful recovery drills with the assistant coach. Every step was carefully monitored to make sure symptoms didn’t return.

Practice was brutal for everyone else: Coach Myers seemed to be punishing them for what had happened with Tampa. Especially Nic and Liam. They were suspended, but that didn’t mean they were off the hook. In fact, it meant they were getting it worse than anyone, because there was no reason for them to save their legs. Harris and Arsenault could do bag skates all day, Myers kept yelling, because all they had to do at tomorrow’s game was sit on the bench.

Riley watched them hauling up and down the ice with a horrible, guilty feeling in the pit of his stomach. He felt like it was all his fault. He knew it wasn’t. Logically, he knew that.

Nic and Liam were still skating when everyone else came off the ice and went to the locker room. Riley hung back, watching them. Nic looked like he was about to puke, and Liam’s face, set in a stony glare, was pale. Was this really punishment for fighting? Or was this punishment for something else?

He was up at four the next morning to get on the plane to North Carolina. He wasn’t playing, but he still had to go and sit on the bench. His parents had flown out late the night before, and there was a chain of texts from his mom narrating the journey.

Made it to the airport! We love you. Be safe. We’ll be watching the next game.

Boarding

Boarded

Taxiing

Taking off! The waving emoji.

Hours later: Landed!

Getting in the Uber

Home! Dogs are very happy to see us! And then all the different dog emojis in a row.

He smiled and shook his head as he read them, and texted that he was glad they’d made it safely. There was a text from Rick wishing him luck at the game, and again asking if he wanted to press charges against Okafor. Riley ignored it as he stuck the phone in his carry-on.

He tried calling Louis on the way to the airport, but got no response. He texted to double check if he was coming to Carolina, then checked his wallet for Louis’ note, read it twice, stuck it carefully back in the wallet, and sat anxiously bouncing his knee all the way to the airport.

He wanted Louis to be there. Even though he wasn’t playing. He wasn’t even ashamed to admit it or worried about what it meant. He just wanted him there, because it made him feel better. He was scared and Louis made him feel safe.

Louis

Seventy-two hours with his family was long enough.

It had been a good trip: better than anticipated. But after three days he was ready to leave.

Chloe drove him to the airport in the Jeep, and he actually welcomed the freezing air conditioning as he stepped out of the heat and onto the plane.

When he landed in Montreal, he had thirty minutes to make it to the team’s charter plane for the flight to North Carolina. He was wrung out and exhausted, and he wasn’t even leaving the airport between trips. But there was no time to be mad about it. He hurried through the terminals, dragging his suitcase.

He made it onto the plane with five minutes to spare, and collapsed into a seat at the back of the cabin. The team and the rest of the support crew were already settled in. Most of the players were asleep. He spotted Riley, sprawled in a fully reclined chair at the front, dead to the world and snoring. Adorable.

Louis had no such luck: he’d been gone for three days and was behind on work. He snagged a passing flight attendant for a coffee, and started pulling out all the screens and tablets and computers and cables, plugging everything in, setting it all up.

An hour into the flight, he was hunched over the laptop with his headphones in when a shadow fell over the table. He looked up to see Riley standing beside him. His heart skipped.

“Hey!” Louis pulled off the headphones and hung them around his neck. “How’s it going?”

“Fine.” Riley was smiling nervously. He kept glancing around the cabin. Technically, Louis supposed, they should disclose this relationship to HR at some point.