"You were there," he says quietly. Like that explains everything. "That's what mattered."
Michelle clears her throat. "I'm gonna find Liam. See you guys later."
She disappears, and then it's just us. Tyler is holding Harper; I’m standing too close, both of us are in each other's space like we're the only people in this emptying arena.
"We should get her home," I say finally.
"Yeah." But he doesn't move. "Yeah, we should."
In the car, Harper asleep in the back, Tyler reaches across the center console, and his hand covers mine where it's resting on my knee. Not moving. Just there, warm and deliberate, asking nothing.
I look at our hands.
I turn mine over.
We drive home like that, his hand in mine, neither of us saying a word, and the silence feels like the most honest thing we've managed in weeks.
"Hell of a game," I say when he pulls into the driveway.
"Hell of a night," he agrees.
He's looking at me, and I realize here and now that we're not talking about hockey.
20
TYLER
The team party is mandatory, which is the only reason I'm going.
I'm standing in my bedroom at six-thirty on Saturday evening, staring at my closet like it might offer an escape route. Harper's downstairs with Nora, and I can hear them laughing about something, and the idea of leaving to spend three hours at Reaper's house makes me want to fake the flu.
"You have to go," Nora says from the doorway, and I turn to find her watching me with sympathy in her eyes. Harper's on her hip, wearing pajamas even though it's barely seven, her little hand tangled in Nora's auburn hair.
"I don't."
"It's a team thing. You need to show up." She shifts Harper to her other hip. "Even if Reaper's an asshole."
"Especially because Reaper's an asshole. He'll notice if I don't show, and it'll give him more ammunition." I grab a dark blue button-down from my closet, not bothering to tuck it in. "I wish you could come."
The words are out before I can stop them, and Nora's expression shifts, growing complicated.
"I'm the nanny," she says quietly. "Not your?—"
"I know." I cut her off because I can't hear her say it. Can't hear her remind me of all the reasons this thing between us can't happen. "I know what you are. Doesn't mean I don't wish it anyway."
She doesn't have a response to that, and I leave at six forty-seven feeling like I'm heading to my own execution.
Reaper's house is in one of those expensive developments where every lawn looks identical, and the houses are aggressively large. There are already a dozen cars in the driveway when I arrive, and I can hear music thumping from inside.
I really don't want to be here.
The party's already in full swing. Guys from the team scattered around with their girlfriends and wives, alcohol flowing freely, someone's playlist blasting through expensive speakers. Reaper's holding court in the kitchen, surrounded by a cluster of veterans, and he doesn't even glance my way when I walk in.
Fine by me.
I grab a beer from the cooler, not because I particularly want one but because it gives me something to do with my hands. Danny appears at my elbow within minutes.
"You made it." He's grinning, already a few drinks in, based on the flush on his face. "Didn't think you'd show."