Jared

When it came down to it, I had absolutely no say in Ten getting back on the ice. The doctors said they were cautiously sure, which sounded like medical bullshit to me. Management had all kinds of legal documentation in place to keep him safe, but that surely was their way of covering their backs. Sponsors had major advertising in place. Even TenWatch was all in for Ten skating with the team.

I wanted him to stay at home. In bed preferably.

I may have come over a little too protective, and it came back to bite me in the ass when I found Ten rummaging in our drawer of medical things. He’d placed two bags of cotton balls on the counter, and he was still looking for whatever he needed. I immediately went to his side because he still had issues with remembering odd things, and some of the bigger words took him a while to form.

“What are you looking for?” I asked, in my best I’m-not-interfering tone.

“More cotton balls. Or bubble wrap, I don’t care.”

Was he hurt? Bleeding? My chest tightened, and I did a visual search of every part of him I could see. Why bubble wrap? He wasn’t making sense.

“Ten, what’s wrong?” I finally asked when I couldn’t hold back anymore.

He very deliberately shut the drawer, turned to face me, then crossed his arms over his chest. “You keep wanting to wrap me up somewhere safe where I won’t get hurt.”

“Ten—“

“Let me finish. Seriously, there aren’t enough cotton balls or bubble wrap to stop me getting hurt again, Mads. It’s the game.”

“I can’t help being worried.”

You can worry, yes. But ask people to watch out for me and not hurt me? That’s a big fat no.”

Oh shit, how did he find out?

“I don’t know what you mean.” I was lying. I knew exactly what he meant, but him getting hurt wasn’t just all about him. There was me as well, the scared lover who wanted to protect his man.

“I know you called Coach Benton last night.”

Fuck.

“I know you told him to talk about our Defensemen and ask them to protect me.” He raised an eyebrow, and I stopped because there was no point in lying to Ten. He knew all my tells.

“I just wanted…”

He held his hand up to stop me.

“Also, I know you have individually asked at least seven of the team to look out for me, to which Stan immediately replied directly to me… wait, let me get my phone.” He pulled out his cell and read from a text. “I’m known peoples for putting warnings on NHL website for not hurt Tennant Rowe.”

I was busted.

“I’m sorry, Ten. I can’t help that I’m worried.”

He softened, cradling my face then. “At home we are lovers, going to get married. Here you can worry over me and love me and make me breakfast every morning. But at the rink, I need to do my job. You understand that? Right?”

His speech was so much better, no stumbling over the words. He sounded so completely determined that I had nothing to say back to him. Rationally, I knew that he needed to get back, that he was always going to be a skater. He was like a kitten desperate to get out of the house, so utterly determined and very nearly like the old Ten again.

I grasped his hand, the feel of the ring on his finger giving me a jolt of love mixed with worry. “When I sat next to that hospital bed, I thought they were going to say you were dying, Ten. I hate that I can’t separate the two, but I love you, and if you let me worry just a little, then we can do this.”

“But no telling people to look after me.”

I sighed noisily. “Does that mean I need to cancel the bribes to the other teams?”

He laughed, then kissed me, and I wanted to stay right there in the kitchen and do this with him forever. But I couldn’t, which was why I was now on the bench, watching practice and seeing my lover out on the ice in a no-contact jersey, practicing with his team for the first time since the accident. There were flashes of old Ten, a deke and spin, a poke check on Stan, laughter as he put home a goal on Stan at one end, then caught the bouncing puck as it squirted out from the net, then traveled the entire length of the rink, avoiding all of our D-men and scoring against an unsuspecting Bryan. We kept the practice light for him. He needed to work on his strength, but he had no fear.

Even after what happened, he hadn’t lost his confidence.

I have to believe in him as he believes in himself.

I found him after practice, sitting next to Stan, listening intently to the big man about something that had them both smiling.

“There is news from Russia bad news mix up with good news. Many cousins over dies. Much bad news. Leaves his children with no family. So much more bad news. I go to fetch children, bring to America and makes ours to raise like American children with much clothes and phones and teenage bad angst. So big much happy news!”

“That sounds great,” Ten replied and punched Stan in the arm.

“You be godfather for our new children? Spoil them, raise them if Erik and I die in tragic scuba-diving accident?”

“I’d be honored,” Ten said, emotion making his voice crack.

I opened my mouth to ask if Stan and Erik had ever been scuba diving, but Ten noticed me standing there and grinned widely, high on excitement, about what I’d just heard him being asked, and probably the rush of being back on the ice.

“I’m going to be a godfather,” he announced, “and you know what else? Trainers are pleased with my progress, Doc is ecstatic, I feel great, and I’ll be back on the team in March, I’m sure of it.”

And knowing my stubborn fiancé? He probably will be.