Page 26 of Exes That Puck (The Honey Badger Puckers #4)

The PR seminar takes place in a sterile conference room that smells like stale coffee and disappointment. The facilitator, a middle-aged woman with sharp eyes, starts with the basics.

“Rule one: apologize without using ‘but.’ The moment you add ‘but,’ you’re making excuses.”

She has us practice writing apologies for hypothetical scenarios. When it’s my turn to read mine aloud, I keep it simple, “I’m sorry for letting my emotions affect my performance and my team. I take full responsibility.”

No buts. No explanations about Liam being a dick or the pressure getting to me. Just ownership.

The community skate afterward is exactly what I need. Little kids wobbling around on the ice, parents cheering from the stands, pure joy without the weight of competition. I spend most of my time helping kids lace their skates and showing them how to stop without falling.

A six-year-old goalie in oversized pads skates up to me with complete confidence.

“You’re mid,” he announces matter-of-factly.

I laugh and take a selfie with him. “Thanks for the honest feedback, buddy.”

I text the photo to Kara.

Zeke:He said I’m not that good.

Zeke: He actually used the word mid.

Even Liam’s here doing community service, but we successfully ignore each other. No drama, no posturing. Just two teammates doing what’s required without making it about our beef.

After the skate, I book an hour of private ice time. Instead of assuming Kara will want to come, I text her.

Zeke: You wanna skate tonight? I’ll hold you up.

Kara: Remember when I ate crap and hurt my ankle?

Zeke: That’s what I’m here for. I’ll catch you if you fall. No hurt ankles this time. I promise.

When I get home to grab my gear, I find Ava in the living room with another girl. When the brunette turns around, my stomach drops.

Brianne. Ava’s best friend from high school. Also someone I used to hook up with before I met Kara. Never anything serious, but definitely history.

“Hey, Zeke,” Brianne says with a smile that’s a little too familiar.

I barely acknowledge her with a nod, focusing on Ava instead. “Didn’t know you were having company.”

“Brianne drove down to check on me,” Ava explains. “You remember each other, right?”

The understatement of the year. I grab my skate bag from the closet. “I’m heading out.”

“Where to?” Ava asks.

“Meeting Kara at the rink.”

She turns to Brianne and says, “He’s sleeping with his ex.” Ava says it so casually, like she’s commenting on the weather. Like I want Brianne to know my business.

Brianne smiles. “Makes sense why she’d come running back.”

The comment hits wrong. I want to defend what Kara, and I have, explain that it’s different than just being exes, but getting into it with Brianne feels like a trap.

“See you later,” I say instead, heading for the door.

At the rink, Kara’s waiting in the lobby wearing jeans and a thick sweater, looking nervous but excited. I help her into rental skates, taking my time with the laces, making sure they’re snug but not too tight.

“These feel weird,” she says, wobbling slightly just standing up.

“They’re supposed to. Trust me.”

On the ice, she grips my arm like her life depends on it. I skate backward slowly, letting her find her balance while holding both her hands.

“Don’t let go,” she says, eyes wide.

“I won’t.”

After about ten minutes, she’s gained enough confidence to try a few steps on her own. That’s when she hits a rough patch and starts to fall. I catch her before she hits the ice, one arm around her waist, the other steadying her shoulder.

“Got you,” I whisper, then let her find her footing again instead of holding on longer than necessary.

We take a break on the bench, sharing a peppermint hot cocoa. The rink is mostly empty, and it’s peaceful in a way that makes conversation easy.

“How was the PR thing?” she asks.

“Actually helpful. Learned how to apologize without making excuses.” I take a sip of cocoa. “My therapist would be proud.”

“You’re really sticking with therapy?”

“Yeah. It’s weird talking to someone who doesn’t know me, but good weird. Makes me think about stuff differently.”

I don’t mention Brianne being at my place. It feels unnecessary—just drama that doesn’t need to affect what Kara and I are building.

When our hour’s up, we walk to my truck and drive to campus. It’s a pretty short drive. We just listen to music, and I watch her in my peripherals.

The campus is quiet when we arrive.

“This was fun,” she says before she gets out. “Even if I almost died several times.”

“You did great. Natural.”

“You’re such a liar.” But she’s smiling.

I almost ask if she wants to come over, the words right there on my tongue. Instead, she looks like she’s about to say something.

“Have a good night,” she breathes.

“Right. Text me when you’re inside?”

“Always do.”

I watch her walk inside before heading back to my house where I’m dreading to be.

When I walk in, Brianne’s still on the couch with Ava, both of them curled up with blankets and what looks like a rom-com on TV.

“How’d it go with Kara?” Ava asks, looking over the couch at me.

“Good. She’s a natural.”

It feels weird having this conversation in front of Brianne, like I’m performing my relationship for someone who has no business judging it. Ava isn’t trying to cause problems. She genuinely wants to know how things went, but the whole situation feels uncomfortable with Brianne here.

Dylan walks in twenty minutes later with messy hair and that satisfied look guys get after good sex.

I raise an eyebrow as I watch him walk through the house. He acknowledges the girls on the couch while I sit at the kitchen table.

My phone buzzes with a text from Carter.

Carter: Cross’ new nickname is Liam Neeson.

Zeke: Why?

Carter: Because he keeps taking people’s pucks.

Zeke: I would love to kick his ass.

Carter: Drop the good guy act and do it. Life is boring trying to be perfect.

Later, lying in bed, I can hear Ava and Brianne talking quietly in the living room.

Brianne’s sleeping on the couch, which means she’ll be here when I wake up tomorrow.

The thought makes me restless and uncomfortable.

I’m exactly where I want to be with Kara.

But having Brianne here feels like a test I didn’t sign up for, another variable in an equation I’m still trying to solve.

I turn over and try to focus on better things like Kara’s laugh when she almost fell, the way she trusted me to catch her, the quiet contentment of sharing cocoa on the bench.

My mind immediately runs to when I dropped her off at her dorm. It felt awkward like there’s something she’s not saying. Or am I deflecting because I kept Brianne a secret from her?

I rub my face, trying to fall asleep, but my mind’s racing about what’s going on right now.