Page 69 of Her Puck Daddies
He doesn’t look convinced. Without a word, he steps around the car, opens my door, and helps me up to my apartment. His grip is steady, like he’s reluctant to let go.
"I’d like for my place to be your home."
I freeze, my heart stuttering. I tilt my head up, meeting his gaze, searching his face for clarity. Did he just say what I think he said? "What did you just say?"
He lets out a deep, almost weary sigh, eyes searching mine as if he's bracing himself for a reaction. “I want you to move in with me. Forever. To be with me, with all of us.”
His voice is firm, but warm, laced with something that sounds a lot like vulnerability. “There's something about you, about the way you fit into our lives that just feels...right. I don’t know how else to say it. I guess I—”
He pauses, like he's wrestling to find the right words, then they spill out in a rush. “I’m falling for you, Ava.”
My mouth parts, but nothing comes out. My heart slams against my ribs, pounding so hard it drowns out everything else. I barely manage a whisper. "But—"
Hiseyes lock onto mine, unwavering. “I felt it that first night we met you. And now, after all this time together, I know it wasn’t just in the heat of the moment. I want more.”
And before I can even fully process what’s happening, he cups my face, pulling me into a kiss, long, slow, filled with all the emotions he’s been holding back. “I need to be with you,” he murmurs against my lips, as if sealing the promise right then and there. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
He lingers, hesitation woven into every second. Just before closing the door on his way out, he gives me a regretful look, his sigh heavy, weighted with something unspoken. "I hate that you won’t just come back with me."
Then, he’s gone.
The massive bouquet from the Avs still sits nearby, along with the chocolates, stuffed animals, and other well-meaning tokens from my coworkers. But instead of lifting my spirits, they only serve as reminders of what Ican’thave—the three men I crave most.
The next two days are the loneliest I’ve experienced since leaving Jersey. Sven, Eric, and Levi keep their distance, following management’s advice, and that means I don’t see them at all. No stolen glances, no teasing smirks, no fleeting touches that send warmth through my skin. Just silence.
I should find comfort in the fact that Sven offered to share his home with me—that he was willing to give me a place in his life. But now, I can’t help but wonder… was that offer made because he trulywantsme there, or just because of the chaos we’re caught in?
Because right now, there’s a shadow hanging over us, heavy and sharp. A threat, looming like a guillotine, waiting to drop.
***
On Monday, I head straight to Barb’s office, my nerves tight, and I spill everything. Well, everything that’s been happening with Dean, or rather, everything that hasn’t been happening. Patrick still hasn’t been able to get in touch with him for a copy of the signed divorce papers. He thinks he might be having second thoughts. And if that’s the case, I might have to take matters into my own hands soon.
Somehow, I know deep down that he’s the one pulling the strings behind this messed up situation.
While I’m in Barb’s office, I ask her to show me the full video footage. She doesn’t hesitate, leading me to a smaller room where the security firm has access to everything. As the footage rolls, I feel my stomach twist in knots. It's humiliating to watch, but something keeps tugging at my thoughts—the placement of the camera.
It’s not up in the corner like a typical security camera. No, this one is set at waist height, angled perfectly to capture every detail, every intimate angle. I tilt my head around, seeing if I could somehow see the semi-blind spots around the main focus of the video. From that angle, it looks like the camera was embedded, carefully placed. Maybe on the wall. Or maybe it was in something nearby. A chair, a vase?
A sickening thought hits me like a punch to my gut. I had my large purse with me that night. And I distinctly remember setting it down on a chair.
I choke back a gasp. This has to be the missing piece of the puzzle.
What if Dean has been tracking me? What if he planted something? It wouldn’t be the first time he’s gone to extreme lengths to control me. If that’s the case, where the hell could he have hidden it where I wouldn’t notice?
My heart pounds as panic claws at my chest. I grab my purse, hands shaking, and start inspecting it. At first, nothing stands out. But then, as my fingers graze the strap, I feel a small, circular, open-faced metal frame, slightly loose. My stomach churns violently.
Without thinking, I grab a pair of scissors from a nearby desk, tearing through the fabric and prying the object free. It’s tiny, no bigger than a button.
A lens maybe? A camera? How long has he been watching me?
A wave of nausea hits me. “Barb, look,” I force out, my voice a ragged whisper.
Barb examines the device, her brow furrowing. “Doesn’t look like it’s got a live signal. Maybe it’s damaged. I’ll take it to security and see what they can figure out.”
I nod, barely able to breathe, but at least I’ve done something. At least I’ve taken action.
But three days pass and silence.