Keeping Casey (Keeping Him #1) - Amy Aislin Page 0,81

when we went to GH. I was just indulging in a bit of nostalgia. Where are you off to? I’ll walk with you.”

He pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and hit the fob. A car with a rental agency sticker in the window that was parked on the street honked once. That done, Mitch gently nudged his shoulder to get him moving.

“You don’t have to do that,” Ethan protested, even though a secret part of himself was dancing at being walked to campus by an NHL player. “I’m sure you have stuff to do.”

“Indulge me. I’ve been driving for two hours. It’s nice to stretch my legs.”

“Are you here to visit Cody?” And wasn’t Toronto a much farther drive than a mere two hours?

“Nah, that’s just a bonus. I was in Montreal for tonight’s game when I got an email. Something about a broken screen door at the House. Thought I’d come check it out while I was nearby.” He bumped Ethan’s shoulder as they walked, side-eyeing him. “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

Ethan winced, shoulders hunching. “You’re one of the owners.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’ll pay for it,” he blurted, knowing that Sommersby’s email would’ve included the people involved in the altercation. There was no hiding from it.

The wind blew Mitch’s curls into his eyes and he swiped them away. “Why don’t you tell me what happened. The email didn’t say much. Just that you and Britton got into a fight and fell through the door.”

“It . . . It doesn’t matter. It’s done. I’ll pay for it.”

Mitch was not that easily swayed. “Can I assume that Britton is the homophobic teammate Roman mentioned at the gala?” When Ethan said nothing in reply, Mitch added, “You should tell your coaches about him. They’re there to help you, but they can’t do that if they don’t know what’s going on.”

“It’s fine. I don’t need help. I’ve got it handled.”

Mitch’s small laugh was mildly self-deprecating. As they crossed out of the neighborhood and onto the main road that led to campus, he looked at Ethan, squinting against the sun. “You remind me of me when I was your age. Too wary to ask for help.”

Ethan didn’t know how old Mitch was exactly, though he must’ve been in his late twenties or early thirties given how long he’d been playing in the NHL. “It’s not that I’m wary about asking for help. I just . . . I don’t want to bother other people with my problems.” Unbidden came the memory of sitting on his parents’ bed after Mom died, asking Dad to tell him how they met. Dad rolling away, giving Ethan his back.

He tossed the memory aside. Now wasn’t the time for it, and he couldn’t keep dwelling on what had been when Dad had just told him that he was trying to move forward.

“But what if they want you to bother them?” Mitch asked.

“What do you mean?”

The wind tossed Mitch’s hair in his eyes again. He shook his head to dislodge it. “It’s something I learned when I was a sophomore here. I was basically broke all the time, working two jobs to make ends meet and save up for tuition. That was on top of classes and schoolwork and hockey. And I didn’t ask anyone for help either because— Well.” He waved his hand. “That’s a different story. But then after our last game of the season, I fainted. Passed out from exhaustion because I wasn’t eating right or getting enough sleep. Scared the shit out of everyone who loves me. Alex even flew up from Tampa—where he was playing at the time—to make sure I was okay. Scared the shit out of myself too. Gotta say, I never want to wake up in the hospital ever again.” He smiled ruefully. “But it made me realize that the people who love me want to help me. That it hurts them when I don’t ask for help.”

“What about the people who don’t love you?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

They followed the road into campus itself, the parking lot of the athletics facility mostly empty late on a Saturday morning. “I mean people like coaches. They don’t love me.”

Mitch smiled at that. “Maybe not, but they’re still there for you. Trust me when I say that they want you to succeed.”

The gays don’t belong in hockey.

Coach Fallon’s voice wasn’t as loud in his head as it had once been. Because hadn’t Ethan seen, as he’d made his way through