Sleeping with Sloane was something I'd imagined plenty of times. A handful when I'd been a horny teenager and countless times since I'd rolled into town just over a month ago. The fantasy, however, was nowhere as good as the real thing, because damn, was the real thing amazing.

And while I would've loved nothing more the next morning than to be able to laze around her house and have multiple repeats of the night before, we both had responsibilities. I had to pick up Bowen from my parents right after breakfast and Sloane spent the morning with her father before heading into work.

It wasn't the ideal set up, but we made it work. Quite well, I might add.

As the days passed, we definitely had to be clever about sneaking in some time together. Locking the door to my bedroom after Bowen went to sleep and trying our best to stay silent. Using the shower late at night to drown out the sounds we made as we came together. Sneaking into the garage for a quickie when Bowen was out back playing with Scout. There was nothing I wasn't game for, and seeing as Sloane seemed to be on the same wavelength when the two of us scored a minute alone, we took whatever we could get.

On the opposite end of the new experience spectrum, however, was therapy. After having got a positive reaction from my mom when I'd brought up the idea of Bowen and I going to therapy to work through the grief of losing Liam and Thea, I'd also floated the idea past Sloane, getting an overwhelmingly encouraging response.

So, I'd booked two preliminary sessions with a therapist in the next town over, and while I'd been hopeful going in, the experience had truly been eye opening in terms of how much talking to a professional helped in processing my emotions. And it wasn't even that I let out all my innermost thoughts. I didn't. It was the way the woman had described loss as something not to push to the side or fully get over, but as something that became a part of the person you were. It was about never letting the memory of them go, even if it faded with time.

Sitting there, listening to her pull happy memories out of Bowen regarding his parents—ones that I hadn't been a part of or knew little about—gave me a sense of relief. A solace that it was okay to foster these memories with him and talk about them, because it was about remembering and cherishing, not forgetting.

After just two sessions I already felt lighter and more at ease, despite knowing I had a long way to go, and before even leaving the office after the second appointment I had booked us in twice weekly until the end of August, when I would have to return to Boston and report to training camp.

If I reported to training camp. That decision was still to be determined.

When we returned home early that afternoon, I made Bowen a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with apple slices on the side for lunch—something he'd apparently been craving the entire thirty-minute drive home—while I whipped myself up a plate of eggs, sausage, and toast, trying to stay as up to par as I could with the diet I stuck to during the season.

It was after I finished eating, however, when Bowen was coloring a picture in his dinosaur coloring book and I was doing the dishes, that the doorbell rang. I spared a confused glance over my shoulder and could see Bowen's attention had been drawn towards the door as well. Knowing it wasn't Sloane, since she was at work, I figured it must've been one of my parents dropping by.

"Hey, buddy," I said, addressing Bowen. "Can you go get that? It's probably your grandma or grandpa."

"Sure," he chirped, abandoning his crayons as he left my line of sight and headed toward the entryway.

It was quiet for a few moments after I heard the door open, but then a very familiar voice said, "Hey little man, remember me?" And that voice definitely didn't belong to either of my parents.

Drying my hands quickly, I strode toward the front door and was surprised to see Derrick standing there, squatted down to Bowen's level, and his girlfriend, Lia, behind him.

"Derrick," I said, my shock evident, "what are you doing here?"

"What? No friendly hello or nice to see you?" Derrick mused, standing to full height. "After we came all this way to surprise you."

"Obviously I'm happy to see you. Both of you," I added, tossing my gaze Lia's way momentarily. "It's just—" I raked a hand through my hair and let out a breath I hadn't known I was holding. "—Neptune Bay is a long way from L.A."

"It's summer, dude. I'm not playing hockey and we'd already planned on coming to Boston so Lia could see her friends for a few days during her week off, so we figured we'd tack on a road trip to Maine before we flew back," he explained before crossing his arms and lifting a brow. "Besides, I wanted to check in on you in person. See if my best friend really is as okay as he claims to be."

"Oh, you're my uncle Ryan's friend," Bowen chimed in, having been silently observing our conversation. His brow furrowed as he stared at Derrick. "Were you the one that bought me a blue toy car and an ice cream last summer?"

Derrick ruffled my nephew's hair and chuckled. "I sure am. I'm Derrick."

"I'm Bowen," he said happily. He then looked around Derrick and pointed to Lia. "Who are you?"

Despite knowing there was no malice, only curiosity, behind his words, I still reached out to grab his hand. "It's not polite to point, kid."

Lia waved me off though. "Don't worry about it," she said, the corners of her lips tilting upward as she looked back down at Bowen. "I'm Lia, Derrick's girlfriend."

"Like how Sloane is Ryan's girlfriend?"

I jolted at the harmless statement, embarrassed by the realization that I hadn't exactly told my friends Sloane and I had started dating. Unknowingly, my six-year-old nephew had just let that cat out of the bag.

Whoops.

Luckily, there was no confusion or anger in Derrick's expression. Just humor as his eyes danced with amusement. "Is she now?"

Bowen nodded as I sheepishly scratched the back of my neck. "Yeah. They kiss like, all the time, and she comes over most nights too."

I could tell Lia was trying to contain her laughter as she pressed her lips together. Derrick, on the other hand, was eating this up. With the lighthearted teasing I'd thrown his way when the two of them had started seeing one another, I knew he was tucking this information my nephew was oh so graciously giving away to use later.

"Well now I can't wait to meet this Sloane," Derrick remarked with jest.

"I'm sure." I rolled my eyes. "And she'll be around tonight once she gets off work, so if you're sticking around for the night, you'll get the chance."

"That was the plan."

"Speaking of the plan," Lia started, pausing to toss a knowing glance to her boyfriend, "why don't we leave you boys to talk, and Bowen, if you wanted to, why don't we hang out for a bit. Do you have any puzzles or games you want to play?"

Nothing about that turn in conversation sounded out of the ordinary to Bowen, who was so overcome with happiness at the thought of having someone new to play with that he nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, I do, though I was actually just in the middle of coloring some dinosaurs if you wanted to help me with that."

"Great, I love coloring. And dinosaurs." Lia grinned, kicking off her shoes and taking his hand as he led her into the living room. Glancing back over her shoulder, she said, "I'll see you guys in a bit."

Feeling as though I knew what conversation Derrick had really driven out here to have, I looked back at him and hooked a thumb over my shoulder. "You want to head out back to the porch?" I asked, because if I was right, I didn't exactly want Bowen overhearing anything. At least not yet.

He nodded, and after closing the front door behind him, followed me through the house. I knew his eyes were wandering, taking in the fact that everything looked the exact same as when he'd been here with me the summer before, but he didn't say a word. Not until we stepped out onto the porch, and even then, I wasn't the one that garnered his full attention.

Scout was relaxing in the corner of the porch that was currently shaded, and he must've sensed Derrick immediately, as he was up and barking in no time, happy to see his former roommate.

"Hey, buddy," Derrick said as the dog circled his legs. He ruffled the fur on his head. "You missed me, huh? Having to put up with Ryan twenty-four seven must be making you go berserk."

I chuckled. "He actually has a new favorite. Him and Bowen are pretty much inseparable."

"Then hate to break it to you—" He glanced up with a cheeky grin. "—but it looks like you've been demoted all the way to third." All I could do was roll my eyes, as Scout did me a favor by promptly losing interest in Derrick and returning to his spot in the shade. "So, a girlfriend, huh?" Derrick said a few moments later, teasing undertone evident. "Is the mighty Ryan Nyberg all grown up?"

"I've had a girlfriend before," I replied in mock defense. "Hell, you've met some of them."

"Yeah, years ago. Recently the only things I've heard from you about the women you see are that they're there one day and gone the next. Maybe a week or two at most."

"I get it, I get it. I like to play the field..."

He held up his hands. "Whoa, nothing wrong with that. You know I did it myself before Lia, but that's why I'm curious. Do you think Sloane's the real deal, or just a summer fling while you're in town?"

And that right there was likely the reason I hadn't told him about Sloane. Because it meant thinking about the future; about what happened once the temperature started to drop and the seasons began to change.

"I doubt you made the trip out here just to pester me about the girlfriend you didn't even know I had until ten minutes ago."

"And who's fault is that?" he quipped. A beat of silence passed. "But you're right. I came down here to see how you were adjusting to your new life as a guardian to your nephew. To make sure you were holding up, and to see if you had even a semblance of a plan regarding your future on the ice."

I released a long sigh, sinking onto the wooden bench before hanging my head in my hands.

Truthfully, any time I thought about the possibility of not going back, I felt a lump form in my throat and knots tangle up my stomach. I wanted to keep playing; my career didn't feel like it was over. I was in good form and could still hold my own in the league as a top tier goalie.

More importantly, while I knew everyone would understand if I did choose to walk away, I didn't want to let my teammates—my friends—down by leaving them without someone they could trust between the pipes.

The only problem was the logistical addition of caring for Bowen during the season.

"I want to be wearing a Knights uniform when the season starts," I admitted, "but—"

"But what?" Derrick cut in, sitting down next to me and clapping me on the shoulder. "Come on, man, talk to me. I get there's other factors standing in your way, but if Bowen's guardianship hadn't fallen to you, tell me, would you have thought twice about leaving this town at the end of August and heading back to Boston?"

"Probably not," I said tentatively.

"So the thought of retiring this off-season was never in your head before that happened?"

"No."

"Then as your friend, I want to make sure you don't make a decision that you end up regretting," he replied in earnest.

"It's just—it's not that easy," I groaned in frustration. "My parents live in Neptune Bay, and I can't imagine not having them down the road to help with Bowen when I feel like I'm in over my head. How am I supposed to care for him without them? Especially when hockey takes me across the country on a weekly basis. I can't just take Bowen with me. He needs stability, and I'd need to enroll him in a school in Boston."

"Those are definitely things you'll have to consider and plan for, but why does any of it have to stop you?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. "Your parents would understand you leaving—I doubt they expect you to give up your career just to stay in town. And in terms of childcare, you know that hiring someone is an option. A handful of the guys on the Royals have nannies to help with their kids, since their wives have full-time jobs, and just because your situation is a little different, doesn't mean there's not someone in the Boston area that can help. Hell, if you actually accept the possibility of it all, I'm sure there are a lot of things you can do that'll ease the stress on your end." He nudged my arm with his elbow gently. With reassurance. "I've known you a long time, and I've never known you to back down from a challenge. You're one of the strongest guys I know, and I don't just mean physically. Mentally and emotionally, too."

A moment passed. "So you're saying if you were in my shoes, you'd go back?"

He nodded. "I would. Trust me, I don't envy your position, but I think figuring out how to make things work—with Bowen and with hockey—is the best thing for you."

"But what if Bowen doesn't want to move? If he doesn't like Boston? What if he—"

I swallowed the rest of the question, unable to voice my inner thoughts. What if he hated me for taking him away from the place that held all the memories he had of his parents?

"You can't think about the what ifs, man. If you want to still play, talk to your folks about it, then talk to the kid. I can't see either of them resenting or hating you for doing your best with the hand you were dealt."

I let out a breath and a few moments later, I nodded. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"I'll talk to my folks and figure out how to talk to Bowen about leaving at the end of the summer," I affirmed slowly. "And thanks, you know, for coming out here. You didn't have to, but I'm glad you did."

He offered me a smile. "What are friends for?"