Page 17 of Puck Me


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And all at once, everything’s alright. Everything slides into place. She’s where she belongs, in my arms, and I can hold her close to me and inhale her light, floral shampoo, and the unique scent of her skin, still warm from bed.

“I had to see you. It’s been torture.”

“I didn’t think you were allowed to leave!” She pulls back, her eyes darting over my face. Eyes that go narrow right away. “What happened to your face?”

She raises her fingers to the fresh bruise on my cheekbone but doesn’t make contact. “Oh, you know,” I joke. “Got a little too feisty during practice. It’s no big deal.”

Does she buy the excuse? I’m not sure. I don’t think so. “Are you okay?”

“Fine. Just fine.”

“But what about —"

“I had the day off, and I’ve already booked my flight back tonight. No, I’m technically not supposed to leave town, but what my coach doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” I realize I’m practically holding my breath while I wait for her to absorb this. “You won’t tell on me, will you?”

“What do you think, dork?” Her brilliant smile eases the tightness in my chest before she hugs me again. “Only one day, huh?”

“Less than that. Maybe twelve hours.”

“Then I guess we’d better make the most of the time we have together.”

Because I’m only human, my dick twitches at the suggestion. But no, we’re not supposed to do that. That’s not what she meant.

Unfortunately.

Instead of taking her to bed, I wait for her to get dressed so we can go for breakfast at a café in town. It’s early enough that the odds of anyone seeing us together are low — something she still worries about, her gaze sweeping the room before we take our seats. She even wears a ball cap pulled low over her eyes like she’s trying to go incognito.

“So? How’s it been, really? Since the last time we talked. Have you been feeling any better?”

There is so much open, honest concern radiating from her. It shines from her eyes as they sparkle my way. Would it be too much to ask for us to sit and stare at each other for a while? I don’t need to talk. I just need to be in her presence.

It’s not going to be that easy. “I’m trying to get over the stuff we talked about.”

“Have you been able to identify any areas where you might be sabotaging yourself?”

Something about the question stirs a flash of anger deep inside. I see Soren’s face in front of me. That knowing smirk. “You know what? I don’t want to talk about that. Tell me about you. How have you been? I understand you’re kicking ass down here.”

“The way you make it sound, you’d think I was playing in the games.”

“You might not be on skates, but you’re there on the ice.”

“You give me too much credit.”

“The team’s done nothing but win so far this season. When do you think was the last time that happened? Last season, it took eight games for us to get our first win, and even that one was by the skin of our teeth.”

She only waves a hand and starts building her lox and cream cheese bagel using some of the extras the server brought over to make a decent looking sandwich. “Well, it’s been good, like you said. Things have been going smoothly.”

“And what about you, personally?” It’s not easy to be playful when what I want is to know whether she’s been spending time with Ryder. I can’t come out and blurt the question. I’d only end up coming off childish and suspicious. She doesn’t deserve that.

“Personally?” She takes a bite and chews slowly. “I’ve been missing you. Is that what you want to know?”

“Maybe.” I nudge her foot under the table and she nudges back. It is impossible not to flirt with this woman.

“Congratulations. I missed you, like you knew I would. Both of you.”

Both of us. Me, and the best friend who gave me this bruise on my face last night. Maybe that’s why I was in such a hurry to get down here, too. I needed to see her before she found out about it. Obviously, she hasn’t yet — it’s barely been eight hours since the fight.

“What were your plans for today?” I ask after paying the check. “I’m not trying to get in the way of your day off.”

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