Page 52 of Keeping Kyle

Comfort. The word kept bouncing around in my head. It defined the evening. Just being with Kyle, sharing meals, keeping house. I wanted to make this work.

The cleanup took no time, and I followed Kyle as he turned off lights.

“Do you want to shower or anything?” Kyle asked.

“I’m really pretty wiped. Can we just fall into bed?”

“More than okay.”

Kyle slipped out of his sweats but stayed in blue boxer briefs. I went down to my boxers too, and we got in on opposite sides of the bed but met in the middle, just like the other night.

I lay on my back, and Kyle wrapped his big, strong arm across my chest. He snuggled his head against my shoulder, planting a couple of kisses. I craned my head to put some on his forehead.

I wanted to do more, but the exhaustion, combined with all the food, wouldn’t allow it. Instead, I happily drifted off, nestled in close.

TWENTY-SEVEN

KYLE

I HATED that I had to leave after our breakfast. Waking up together started my day off great though. We cleaned up, had coffee, and then headed out. The Arsenal practiced at home and then flew to Dallas for a night game, which we lost.

Austin and I texted during the days of the trip and talked before we went to sleep. It was fun FaceTiming while we both lay in bed. He worried about the company and his ability to fix what had happened. He didn’t share details, which I both understood and appreciated since I wasn’t sure I’d get the nuances. He invited me to come speak about leadership and community at the innovation summit that was coming up, and I said yes. If he wanted me there and he thought it could help, I’d gladly do it.

We stayed away from heavy relationship stuff, which was probably for the best. Those things were better done in person, and we both seemed on the same page with that without so much as an awkward attempt at it.

Tonight, we played, and that meant sharing the ice with Garrett.

G and I messed with each other relentlessly during the game. I made one goofy face at him as we lined up for a face-off, and that set the tone for the entire game—faces and jokey trash talk when we were in earshot. It wasn’t bad sportsmanship, although the refs did keep an eye on us because the occasional outbursts of laughter was quite unusual.

During the second intermission, David told me that the local sports network actually wanted me and G for an interview since it was clear that, while there was a rivalry between the teams and a serious game going on, we’d obviously been friends forever and knew how to have fun. We’d squared off dozens of times over the years and had never messed around like this before, but I had a ball with it, and I knew he did too.

I’m sure I liked it more than he did because the Arsenal led the game.

“If you’re gonna move that slow, ESPN might take you off that cover,” I quipped to G as he failed to catch me on a breakaway. His goalie covered the shot so I didn’t feel too bad about harassing him more in the final minutes of the game.

“I didn’t get that cover for speed. So just keep talking. I might use this body to knock you on your ass.” He passed super close to me so a ref wouldn’t hear and take it as an actual threat. It didn’t matter, though, since that was our last shift before the final buzzer.

After the stars of the game were announced, G and I would return to the ice to talk to the reporter. Since I wasn’t a star, I went to the locker room, stored my stick, and tried to arrange my hair so it wouldn’t totally look like helmet head.

David waited by the door, checking his phone and waiting for the message that it was time for the interview.

“Great job tonight, guys,” Coach said as he came in. “Another all-important win toward locking in a playoff slot.” He came over to me. “KP, can I grab you for a minute?”

This was it.

The bottom dropped out of my stomach, and I fought to control any emotions from peeking out.

The locker room got quiet because we all knew what was coming.

I struggled to keep it together—the mix of sadness and anger tried to overwhelm me. The fiery angry surprised me because I thought I’d worked through that already.

“Coach,” David said, falling in step next to us, “he’s about to do a quick TV segment—”

“Sorry. We need to see him before he goes on air. You’ll have to delay or cancel if you need to.”

“Hang tight. We’ll do it as soon as I’m done. I’m not going to miss the chance to harass Garrett on TV.” Thankfully, I sounded more confident than I felt.

David nodded and broke away.