Page 2 of Pucked Into Position

“Yeah…” I sniffle, and twirl a long, blonde strand of hair around my fingers.

“Stop crying, silly.” His voice is crisp and completely unbothered. What the hell?

“Why?” I pout, even though he can’t see it.

“Cause you’re still going to Rice.” I pull the phone away from my ear and stare at it in shock. Did he just say what I think he said?

“Can you repeat that?” I ask, bringing the phone back up to my ear.

“You’re still going to Rice,” he repeats. “You’ll get to meet all those teachers you’ve been so excited about and lose sleep for projects I’ll never understand.”

Is he pranking me?

“What do you mean? Mom and Dad just told me—”

“I know what happened,” Tucker says softly, his usual military induced stoicism softening enough to let his big brother protectiveness come through. “Look, my recent deployment bonus just cleared, and it’s sitting in my account right now.”

“What? No, Tucker, I can’t—”

He keeps talking, always the diligent older brother. He told me when I was younger that everyone was surprised when Mom got pregnant again, but that I’m the best thing to ever happen to him. “It’s more than enough to cover the tuition that your scholarship doesn’t cover for the first year. That gives us twelve months to apply for other scholarships and figure out financing for the other three years.”

My heart soars as hope fills my veins. For a fraction of a second, I feel like I could fly, but then comes the sun, and like Icarus, the reality of my situation brings me crashing back down to earth.

I let out a defeated sigh. “That’s incredibly generous of you, but…I still can’t go. Tuition is only half the problem. I won’t have money for living expenses, rent, or groceries. My advisor told me the course load will be intense and most of the labs I’ll need to use are only open during normal working hours. So I’d only be able to work weekends, and besides, I don’t know anyone I could room with.”

Tucker chuckles like I’ve just told him a joke. “Do you really think your big brother wouldn’t figure all that out before calling?”

“Well…” Tucker has always been the guy with a plan B, C, and D.

“You remember Ryan, right? He’s got a place out there and said he’d be willing to let you stay with him.”

The name hits me like an electric shock, making my heart race and skin tingle.

“Ryan?” I blurt. “As in, your best friend Ryan? As in, the goalie for the Houston Lone Stars? Absolutely not. I could never impose on him like that. Besides, he’s an adult with his own life and I’m just…his best friend’s annoying little sister.”

“You wouldn’t be imposing. He travels most of the hockey season. Between away games, training camps, and travel for different events, his apartment sits empty half the season. He said you’d actually be doing him a huge favor by looking after the place while he’s gone.”

I open my mouth to protest, but falter. Did Ryan really agree to let me live with him? I consider the offer, my mind drifting to the last picture I saw of him.

It was in one of the sports magazines Dad brought home. Ryan was in his gear—his helmet in hand—looking at the camera with hardened hazel-brown eyes, his medium brown hair tousled and damp, jaw tight, his lips a thin line. Just as broody as the teenager I remember. Mom and Dad always comment on how intimidating he looks, but I’ve never seen him that way. There’s something protective in his hard stare that draws me in. I’ve never thought too hard about why I always save his pictures in my journal when they’re finished with the magazines, but now, with the thought of living under the same roof as him sending a shiver through me and heat rushing to my cheeks, I think I finally understand.

I used to follow Tucker and Ryan around like an adoring puppy before he left for some prestigious college hockey program and Tucker left for basic training. Ryan had always been patient with me, and I wonder if he’ll still be that way.

“Are you sure he’s okay with this?” I ask quietly, my fears crumbling under the weight of my desire to go to Texas.

“Pinky swear,” Tucker says warmly, “I told you, I’ve always got your back. I won’t let anything stand in the way of your dreams.”

Tears roll down my cheeks again, happy this time. “Thank you, Tucker. Truly.”

“You’re welcome. Now go give Mom and Dad a hug for me,” Tucker says before we hang up.

I lower the phone and stare at it in disbelief.

I’m going to Texas. Not only that, I’m going to Rice!

I want to laugh or cry or both. Instead, I stay where I’m at and stare up at the stars. I’m going to be living under the same roof as Ryan Walker…

Picking up my phone again, I pull up Tucker’s Instagram page, remembering a picture he posted recently of the two of them from his last visit to Texas. When the page loads, I pause. A wave of heat works its way down my chest and between my thighs.