Chapter 15 - Wounds
In the days since the gathering at the Malone household, Emma found that she still had her doubts about the sincerity of Devin’s words. She was entirely too used to being played, and while she hoped that her friends wouldn’t do that to her, it seemed too convenient that Ryan had responded exactly the way Devin implied he would. Had she been set up? She still wasn’t sure.
Despite her misgivings, there remained little question that she and Ryan were getting closer, they were getting more comfortable in each other’s presence. Emma found herself checking the clock if Ryan wasn’t back from an appointment by an expected time, and she’d noticed that he tended to give her a lot of space if he saw that she was hunched over her laptop, mashing keys into words.
This particular morning, Ryan had seemed more like himself than any other day that Emma could recall since he moved in. While the knee brace remained on, he’d actually managed a slow but awkward gait – unassisted by crutches – from his bedroom to the bathroom. From there he went onward to the living room, where he’d settled in her Grandpa’s chair.
It was ironic to say the least. Here was this man who she never would have associated with like this, if not for his injury. And now he was sacked out across her favorite chair like it was his favorite too. She couldn’t help but smile at the thought.
When Emma finally ventured out of her bedroom for the day, she noted that Ryan’s eyes immediately started following her movements and he had a light smile playing on his lips. She raised an eyebrow at him, wondering why he was so happy, but didn’t ask. He shrugged at her unasked question but grinned more and then held out a hand for her, beckoning her closer all without a word being spoken.
Even with her doubts, Emma found herself drawn to this man, found herself willingly crossing the room to climb up onto the side of the chair, much as she had that night at the Malones. And much as he had that night as well, Ryan immediately wrapped an arm around her back until his hand settled on her hip. Leaning her head against his, she remained quiet for the longest time, simply enjoying his company, his companionship.
Soon, as his thumb slid along her hip, caressing her skin through her shirt, Ryan finally asked her softly, “What’s on your agenda for today?”
She didn’t want to answer, didn’t want to ruin this perfect moment. But she did, answering him in an equally soft voice, “Finally putting a wrap on Trent’s article in the morning. Afternoon essentially off unless I decide to go to the rink. Evening is up for grabs at this point. If I end up at the rink, I’ll end up writing tonight.”
“If you do end up at the rink, I’d be happy to be a sounding board for any hockey questions or terms you might have. I know how important the quality of the content is to you. I can at least offer some authenticity.” Ryan offered softly, his hand still lazily moving along her hip.
“Thank you.” Emma replied immediately, turning her head a bit while finding he did the same. Soon, they were nose to nose, eyeball to eyeball, and Emma tried to understand what she thought she was seeing in Ryan’s eyes. What was he showing that could explain this seeming interest? Was it desire? He couldn’t view her as desirable, could he? But what else could he find appealing about her? She truly didn’t understand – but she also wasn’t sure she wanted to find out, either. This comfortableness they’d found; she didn’t want it to go away.
Finally speaking, his lips so close to hers that they were practically touching, Ryan murmured, “I’d like to try and take a walk around the parking lot at some point before prehab. Would you like to join me?”
Blinking, Emma couldn’t prevent the question that popped out of her mouth, “Wouldn’t you prefer Luke instead of me?”
Again, that smirk curled over Ryan’s lips and his eyes danced with laughter. “Not when he’ll be literally running circles around me. Besides, he’s not my type.”
Arching an eyebrow at that but not otherwise responding, Emma would have remained content to just stay in that position for the rest of the day, but her phone – with Trent’s ringtone proclaiming loudly her preference for boys with drawls - started going off in her bedroom and she pulled back away from Ryan, climbing from the chair and starting to head back towards her bedroom before she stopped and turned back towards him. “I have to,” she started before he interrupted.
“Do your job. I know. It’s okay. Go do it. I’ll be here until my appointment.”
Giving him a grateful nod, Emma scurried back into her bedroom, never noticing that the look on Ryan’s face had turned, a large frown and pained eyes like someone had kicked him in the nuts.
~*~
When Emma’s door rang some 20 minutes later, Ryan pulled himself up carefully from the chair and maneuvered slowly off towards the kitchen with the intention of letting the company in. But the company – Trent, as it were – saw exactly who was coming to greet him and saved him the trouble and let himself in. After walking past Ryan to note that Emma’s bedroom door was still closed, Trent indicated that they should sit down at her kitchen table.
And though Ryan wasn’t afraid of Trent – at least not so much in words – he was afraid of where any prospective conversation might go. Easing himself into a chair he gazed across the table into inquisitive dark brown eyes. “So. You and Emma.”
Licking his lips a moment before answering, Ryan nodded just a bit, answering, “Emma and me. Maybe. Moving in that direction.” And jutting his chin out defiantly as he had the last time he and Trent had this conversation, Ryan added, “I’d tell you I’m sorry for that, but I’m not. I like her, a lot, and while I can’t speak for her and wouldn’t anyways, she’s seeming at least comfortable with me.”
Trent closed his eyes for a long moment before nodding, and when they reopened, Ryan could see how wounded the man looked. It wasn’t all that different from how he’d felt upon realizing Emma still had a special ring tone set for Trent. Still, after a moment, Trent warned him, “You do right by her.” He didn’t even need to make the rest of the threat – that Ryan would have to deal with him otherwise – they were both well aware that would be the case. And even despite them both being aware she was in her room, working, Trent rose, asking, “She here? She called me over about her article.”
“In her room,” Ryan answered, and after another moment’s hesitation he extended his hand across the table to Trent, giving Trent the option to shake hands or not. And Ryan could admit to being surprised when a firm hand gripped his back and even squeezed a little before Trent let go and headed off towards her bedroom. And while Ryan turned to watch him go, he made no move yet to get up again, and could instead only hear bits of their conversation.
“You rang?”
~*~
Knocking on the frame of the bedroom door before opening the handle, Trent’s face was all easy-going smiles when Emma opened the door, finding her friend grinning back at her and inquiring, “You rang?”
“I did!” She replied with a giggle, thrilled to see a happy face greeting her back instead of one broken by a frown. When he offered a hug, she leaned into it briefly, not quite settling in before pulling back. Waving her hand towards her monitor, she murmured, “I don’t normally do this, didn’t even with the Perrault boys. But I’m giving you a chance to read through the article before I send it off.”
Trent’s eyebrows roofed at that but after a moment he sat, arms folded in front of him on her desk to lean forward and read off her laptop screen, a hand periodically reaching up to scroll the document downward. When he finally reached the end, all he could say was “Wow.”
“Wow good or wow bad?”
“Wow good. You’ve made me sound like one of the best players on the team, a reason not just for my folks to show up and watch but also the locals.”
Resting a reassuring hand on his shoulder, Emma told him softly, “Trent, you are one of the best players on the team. I’ve confirmed that with the coaching staff as well as your teammates. In fact, the coaching staff informed me that you’re one of their finalists to be named Captain. Again.”
He blushed a bit but didn’t immediately respond, finally just shrugging a bit and telling her, “Thank you.” And after another moment he stood, wrapping her in a hug, and whispering near her ear, “I know you’re wary, and you have every right to be. But Ryan isn’t me, okay? Just remember that. He’s his own person.”
And before Emma could think of responding, could even convince her mouth to pick up from its place on the floor, Trent had let himself back out again, extending greetings to Ryan as he went.
~*~
Stubborn pride.
It was the one fault that his family was quick to point out that he held, the one thing that had also kept Ryan from behaving rashly in the face of the casual homophobia that so often pervades locker rooms.
It was also the thing that found him back on crutches, in dire need of a pain pill, and angrier than he’d been since that stupid kid had run him over in the first place.
As he maneuvered out of his crossover, he had to bite back a whimper when his foot got caught beneath the emergency brake and tweaked his leg even more. Soon, he completely got out of the vehicle, leaning against it heavily before grabbing the crutches from the backseat and positioning them beneath his arms.
He’d pushed too hard today, and had set himself back potentially another several weeks. Instead of looking at surgery in the next few days, he now had to wait for the new swelling to go back down before they were willing to do the surgery.
Frustrated and more than a bit pissed off, Ryan slowly maneuvered the crutches towards Emma’s apartment, struggling to balance as he reached into his pocket to pull out his key ring. Just as he finally got the key out, the door swung open and Emma gazed at him inquisitively. “You’re back on the crutches. Are you okay?”
“I’d prefer not to talk about this right now,” He told her softly, trying desperately to keep the anger from his voice, to try not to take his frustrations out on her. Trying to maneuver past her, she nonetheless trailed closely behind, so close that he could almost feel her breath against his neck. He growled without any words and reached into the freezer for the large ice pack he’d put in there soon after his arrival and then kept going, onward to his bedroom.
She stood in the doorway as Ryan soon ended up flopped on his bed, undoing the brace, and throwing it across the room. Lifting his leg to slide the towel beneath it, he still managed to jar his knee enough to leave him muttering a string of expletives that would have had his mother washing his mouth thoroughly out with soap. Pounding his fists against the cushioned top of the bed, he reached for a pillow and threw it too across the room before getting the ice settled across his leg. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Emma moving towards the pillow, picking it up to bring it back to him. “Did you fall?” She asked softly. “Is there anything I can do for you? Do you need me to call Luke?”
Ryan didn’t want to be reminded of all he couldn’t do right now, of all the dreams that were slipping like sand through his fingers. “Please.” He finally growled, unable to keep the frustration from his voice any longer. “Just. Let. Me. Be.”
Stopping just short of the bed, Emma paused for a half a moment before dropping the pillow and turning on her heels, walking out of his room and presumably back into her own since he could soon hear her loudly pounding on the keyboard of her laptop. He wanted to apologize, to explain. But right now he just wanted to scream.
Grabbing all the pillows within his reach, Ryan started throwing them across the room, cussing loudly in French, English, and some mixture thereof. If Emma hadn’t gotten a thorough lesson in Québécois cussing, she was for sure getting one now! Soon he ran out of pillows and just let out a scream of frustration, pounding his hands against his bed top until they too began to hurt. Across the hall, he could hear a brief pause in the keyboard pounding, and he guessed that she was fighting every instinct to come check on him, to see if there was anything she could do.
Sighing softly and sliding himself over more to the far side of the bed, Ryan called out, “Emma? Would you please come in here?” He knew that she’d heard him because the keyboard pounding had ceased, but still she didn’t appear in his doorway. “Emma. Please.”
This time Emma did appear, but the hurt on her face was unmistakable. Reaching down to grab one of his discarded pillows, she stopped short and then straightened, gazing at him with a face that now was a blank slate. “You called?” She asked in a dull voice, one so unlike her own that it almost frightened him.
Holding out his hand to her, Ryan could see the turmoil raging within Emma before she finally, slowly, began to approach the bed. When she was close enough, he grabbed for her hand, using it to tug her into a seated position on the bed. “I’m sorry.” He started soft, but when he noticed that her eyes were focused away from him, he squeezed her hand and whispered, “Please look at me.”
After more hesitation Emma did turn her eyes to his and he could see the unshed tears in her eyes. “Oh Em.” He whispered as he tried to tug her closer still, where he would be in better position to try and comfort her. She resisted, tried to remain upright, but soon settled down on the bed, though to his chagrin, she was laying on her back rather than up against his side.
Shifting himself around and wincing just a bit as he used his elbows to prop himself up so he could look down at her, Ryan told her softly, “I’m sorry.” Staring into those gray eyes he’d grown to adore, he added, “I’m just frustrated with the cards I’ve been dealt right now.” He saw what looked like understanding flash in her eyes, and she opened her mouth to speak before shutting it again. “Go ahead. I’m not going to bite your head off.”
Nonetheless, Emma closed her eyes rather than look into his eyes as she asked in a quiet voice, “What happened?”
He snorted soft. “You will come to learn, if you haven’t already, that I am an idiot.” She started to protest but he shook his head a bit. “No, it’s true, I am. I harbor this anger at so many people - myself included - for being in this situation. And then I go and try to push myself harder than I should of at prehab. I don’t know if I wasn’t completely torn through and through before, but I sure as shit am now.”
Gazing up at him once more, Emma told him in that same soft voice, “I’m sorry.” They held eye contact for a long while before she lay back down beside him and closed her eyes. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
At that Ryan tried to turn more towards her, tried to get her to do likewise, but again, she resisted. “Just be here. And know that when I’m mad at the world, I’m not mad at you.”
He heard a soft snort, but she didn’t question him with words and soon just said softly, “I do need to go back to writing at some point.”
“Stay for now.” Ryan implored her. “And I’ll help later if you do.”
Silence was again the rule of the day, but after several minutes she did agree softly, “Okay.” And when Ryan went to grab her hand and give it a squeeze, she didn’t try to pull back.
And at this point, that was all he could ask for.