“Ryan!” I wheel my suitcase inside. “Are you home?”
“Yeah,” he mumbles from his bedroom before dragging his feet into the living room. “Did you change your flight? Why are you home so early?”
His eyes are laced with sleep, barely open, but he pulls me into a hug.
“I caught a red-eye. I was ready to be back.”
He stretches his arms towards the ceiling, still waking up. “And maybe you didn’t want to be away from Chicago? Especially tonight?”
Casually, I pop my shoulders, keeping my eyes away from his.
“Did you sign on an apartment?”
I stay silent.
“You know you don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I don’t want you to unless you feel like that’s the best place for you. You can stay here, rent-free. Zanders probably won’t even be in Chicago next season anyway.”
My eyes dart to his. “What are you talking about?”
“He doesn’t have an agent or a new contract.” His tone is far too casual.
“What do you mean he doesn’t have an agent?”
Ryan’s brows crease in confusion. “He fired him. Didn’t he tell you?”
What the hell? “No!” My volume rises with desperation. “Why would he do that?”
My brother hesitates. “I uh…I think you should talk to him about it.”
“He can’t fire him! He needs to sign somewhere. He needs to sign in Chicago. He doesn’t want to leave.” My words rush together. “How do you know?”
He shoots me an apologetic smile. “He came by looking for you right when they landed from Pittsburgh.”
Of course, he did. He called nonstop after our conversation, but I didn’t answer. After he told me he didn’t know how to let somebody love him, there wasn’t much more to say. But something about that talk, in addition to everything else I love about that man, kept me from signing an apartment lease in Seattle. I couldn’t do it yet. It’s such an official big step to make without seeing him first.
“And he’s come by every night, looking for you, Vee.”
“What happens if he doesn’t have an agent?”
“Teams can’t talk to him without representation while he’s still in season. He’s going to have to wait until the finals are over and just hope that not every organization has filled their roster yet.”
I plop onto the armrest of the couch. “This is all my fault.”
“No, it’s not, Stevie. This is on Zanders. He made his choices, and now he’s dealing with the consequences. But I’m not going to sit here and tell you that this has nothing to do with you. I think losing you opened his eyes, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.”
The last thing I want is for Zanders to lose his career over me. In fact, that was the one comfort I had, knowing that his local fanbase loved him before me and they’d love him again after.
“Vee.” My brother’s tone is gentle, almost cautious. “Do you want to forgive him?”
I bury my head in my hands, hiding my face. “Yes,” I mumble against my skin, hoping he doesn’t judge me for it. “Does that make me pathetic?”
Ryan quietly laughs before draping an arm over my shoulders, pulling me into his side. “Not at all.”
“You don’t think this is like the Brett situation all over again?”
“No way. Fuck that guy. There’s a huge difference. You took Brett back after he left because you were trying to prove to yourself you were good enough to keep him, but if you take Zanders back, it’s because he’s been working on himself to be good enough to keep you.”
Ryan heads to the kitchen, powering up the coffee maker. “But what do I know? I don’t date.”
I take a seat at the island opposite my brother. “It’s off-season. Maybe it’s time you put yourself out there again. You’ve got to start moving on, and dating isn’t a distraction when there’s nothing to distract from.”
He shoots me a deadly glare that says, “We’re talking about your problems, not mine.”
“Off-season is more important than the regular season. You know that. I’m doing two-a-days all summer. And love you, Vee, but watching you have your heart broken isn’t exactly a glowing recommendation for getting into another relationship.”
My mouth falls open in faux shock before I grab a dishtowel off the kitchen island and throw it at my brother’s head. “Jerk.”
There’s an envelope with my name on it attached to the fridge, and I don’t notice it until Ryan pulls it off and slides it across the island to me.
“What is this?” I stare at the white envelope, recognizing the handwriting scribbled on the outside.
“A ticket for the game tonight.”
“Zee dropped it off?”
“Last night.”
I keep my eyes locked on the envelope in my hands.
“I think you should go.”
My attention darts to Ryan.
“I think he loves you but doesn’t know how to say it, and if you feel the same way, you should go. You’ll never forgive yourself for missing this game.” He takes a sip of his fresh coffee. “And that’s all the great advice I have for this time of the day.” Ryan leaves me alone in the kitchen and heads back into his room.
Cautiously, I open the envelope in my hands, pulling the ticket out. A blue Post-it Note sticks to it with a simple, pleading message.
This season means nothing without you.
Nothing matters without you.
Please come tonight.
-Zee
