Page 10 of Arrogant Puck
I hate leg day.
Not because it’s hard. Because it doesn’t let me lie to myself.
The burn starts in my right hip halfway through the second set. A low pull at first, then sharp as the weight shifts.
I add another ten pounds anyway. Sink deeper into the squat. Grind through it even when the joint protests.
Pain’s the only thing I can trust right now.
Everything else in life is rat shit.
I rack the bar, exhale slow. There’s sweat sliding down my back and blood from a ripped callus on my palm. I don’t wipe either off.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Riley.
Clipboard in hand. Glaring at me, but he doesn’t say a word. Just keeps walking.
I grab my towel and follow.
I pass the med office on the way to the locker room. Riley’s voice leaks into the hallway through a cracked door.
“She said he wouldn’t even hear her out. Just shut it down.”
Sage. Talking about me.
I don’t move. Just stand there like a goddamn idiot, listening to what else she had to say.
Riley keeps going. “He’s compensating. You can see it in his stride. That right hip’s worse than he’s letting on.”
He’s not wrong. He’s just late to the party.
“Sage suggested we bench him until he complies.”
“Can’t do that, Rile,” Coach mocks him.
Fucking bitch.
Like I’m just another name on a chart.
I leave before I can listen to more.
In the locker room, I sit alone.
My phone buzzes.
Dean: drinks at seven. ur coming. no excuses
Slater: Can’t. Next time.
Lie. There won’t be a next time.
The hip aches like it wants to grind bone against bone. I should ice it. Should rest.
Instead, I shower. Water cold enough to leave my skin red.
Lexi shows up around eight.
Tight dress, too much perfume, bag of KFC in one hand. She drops it on the counter and strips off her jacket without waiting for me to offer a hello.
“You look like shit,” she says, smiling. “But still hot. So, silver lining.”
I don’t answer.
She steps between my legs where I’m leaning against the counter, runs a hand up my stomach.
She kisses me. Deep and fast. Trying to pull something from me.
I let her try.
She strips off her clothes. Her lingerie is black. Strappy. All for show.
I don’t care what color it is.
I fuck her hard and fast, hands tight on her hips. Push past the dull flare in mine like it doesn’t matter. It does matter, but I make it shut up.
She moans, claws my back. Says my name like it means something.
When I come, it’s from sheer muscle memory. Like I’m trying to pull myself out of my own body and slam back in harder.
Lexi breathes heavy next to me. Grins up at the ceiling.
“You always this rough when you’re in your feelings?”
“I’m not in my feelings.”
She laughs. “Okay, sure.”
Her fingers trail over my ribs. I grab her wrist. Not hard but clear.
“Don’t.”
Lexi doesn’t push it. She gets dressed in silence, and at the door she glances back.
“You know, one day you’re gonna snap. And it’s not gonna be with someone who lets you off the hook.”
“Good thing you’re not that someone.”
She gives me a wink and shuts the door behind her.
I pull open the cabinet above the sink. There’s a little baggie hanging out.
I hold one between my fingers.
White. Bitter.
Wouldn’t take the edge off. Just dull it enough to pretend.
I flush the whole bag.
Then I grab my gear and head to the rink.
Alone. Like always.