Keeping Casey (Keeping Him #1) - Amy Aislin Page 0,82

the juniors and joined the Mountaineers, that not everyone was a Coach Fallon? Or a Britton.

“They’re there for you like a manager is there for their employee, wanting them to succeed in a presentation,” Mitch went on. “Or whatever people do in office jobs. They’re there for you in the way senior team members celebrate with you when you score your first goal. Take Roman, for example. He wouldn’t be your mentor if he didn’t genuinely feel like he could contribute in some way and see you thrive. And I know for a fact that you haven’t taken advantage of him as your mentor. He told me,” he added when Ethan opened his mouth to ask. “I’m guessing it’s got something to do with your whole not-wanting-to-bother-people thing. Well.” They stopped outside the doors of the athletic facility, their cheeks red from the cold. “I’m here to tell you to get over it.”

Ethan barked a laugh. Why had he expected something more eloquent from a hockey player? “Get over it? That’s your advice?”

“Yeah, man. We’re not meant to go through life alone, and unless you want to do so, get over it.” The wind tossed his hair in his face again.

“You’re not very good at giving advice,” Ethan said. “Also, isn’t that annoying?” He waved at Mitch’s face.

“Yeah.” Mitch grinned and raked his hair back. “But Alex likes it long, so . . .”

With that parting shot, he saluted Ethan with two fingers and turned, heading back to, presumably, his car and then to the House.

Huffing a short laugh, Ethan went inside.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Ethan was feeling pretty good after his swim. Less tense. More clearheaded. Less sore.

No less heartsore, though.

It was killing him that he couldn’t text or call Casey. What if Casey had tried to get in touch with him? Would he think Ethan had given up on him when he didn’t answer back?

Forget Monday. He was getting in his car and driving to Lighthouse Bay today.

Double-timing it, he turned the corner onto his street in half the amount of time it had taken to walk to campus. What would he say to Casey when he saw him?

I love you.

Yeah, that was a good start.

I’m sorry I scared you.

A good follow-up.

Please don’t go away.

Needy and insecure. Did he care?

Nope.

He’d beg as much as he had to if it meant he got to keep Casey.

He didn’t notice Harkrader’s SUV parked in its usual spot on the street until he saw the figure sitting stooped on the top step of the House’s porch.

Casey.

Heart jumping into his throat, Ethan paused on the sidewalk.

Casey hadn’t left because he didn’t want to put up with Ethan’s RA. And he had tried to reach Ethan.

Ethan could tell because Casey looked utterly, heartbreakingly dejected.

Bundled into a warm coat, he stared at the ground, shoulders rounded, one leg bouncing. His cheeks and nose were flushed from the cold. He wore a knit hat that matched the one Ethan had pulled over his wet hair after his shower.

But it was the sign he held that captured Ethan’s attention.

It was done on some kind of hard poster board and was propped up on Casey’s thighs, his chin hooked over the top. It was almost fully covered in glitter and sparkly red-heart stickers. Some of the glitter had fallen off to land on Casey’s knees.

In the center, written in all-caps in thick marker: I dig you.

In one corner, almost too small for Ethan to see: I’m sorry. There was a little sad face next to it.

If it was possible for his heart to beat any faster, it would’ve flown off and landed at Casey’s feet.

God. This man. Ethan wanted to give him all of the promises in the world.

His shoes scuffed the pavement as he made his way up the walkway. Casey’s gaze snapped up. Upon spotting Ethan, he straightened fast and the look that crossed over his face was one Ethan would never forget. Happiness mixed with relief and affection, crossed with a little bit of fear.

By the time Ethan crouched at the base of the stairs to peer up at him, his heart had melted into a puddle of goo, and he knew, as surely as he knew his own name, that he’d never have to worry about Casey’s fear getting the better of him ever again.

“I like your sign,” he said.

The smile slipped off Casey’s lips, a furrow appearing on his brow. Sign still held on his thighs, he slid down the top step, then the next one,