Page 34 of Puck Love

Of course he had. That was the smart, considerate thing to do. And Jake was always smart, considerate, careful, and methodical.

I’d expect nothing else from someone who was generally well liked by fans and respected by opponents. A fucking prince. Bo-ring. I didn’t know if the boring part was true anymore, but I couldn’t think while he jabbered on about fuck knew what.

“Are we going to ignore the sex-tree incident?” I interrupted.

Jake went still. “I—yeah, I think we should.”

I nodded. “Yeah. Okay. Yeah.”

Good plan.

Or was it? I wasn’t sure about anything anymore.

10

TRINSKY

We arrived at the campsite by midafternoon to a chorus of cheers, mild concern about the medical emergency, and lighthearted teasing about surviving a few hours alone in the woods without killing each other.

“I thought we’d have to comb the forest for bodies,” Court joked.

Everyone laughed, including Jake and me. Then we brushed over the ordeal, groused about missing lunch, and went our separate ways.

We no longer had a team to supervise, so we joined others. I went with Denny and his crew; Jake joined Court’s group.

Yes, I’d thought about chucking it in and leaving, but there was enough going on that I felt useful. And truthfully, I wanted to keep an eye on Jake. From afar. What if he unintentionally said something incriminating? He’d agreed that we should forget what happened, but he could change his mind and…then what? If I’d learned anything in life, it was that you always had to be prepared for the “then whats.”

No, I didn’t want to do anything mature, you know, like talk to him and make sure we were a thousand percent on the samepage. I was counting on my powers of perception to recognize any hint of a freak-out. As far as I could tell, Jake was his cool and calm self, though.

The Wood Hollow campsite looked like last night’s, but it had other amenities, like a volleyball net, bocce balls, a croquet set, and access to horseback riding at a nearby barn for those interested. I stuck to volleyball and croquet, and hung out with a ragtag group of athletes and dads who wanted to talk hockey by the fire. Jake played bocce ball, rode horses, and made s’mores with the kids.

We were in the same orbit, but our paths didn’t cross.

Till bedtime.

“One tent,” I deadpanned. “Again? Seriously?”

Jake released a tired sigh. “Yeah, they took all unnecessary gear and…here we are. You can always get a ride to Elmwood. It’s not far.”

“Me? Why don’t you go? You have a house in town, right? You can just walk home,” I huffed, lifting the canvas barrier and crawling inside. I peeked my head out and waved. “See you on the ice, buddy.”

I zipped the flap closed and unfurled my sleeping bag.

Jake unzipped it, tossing his bag through the opening. “I signed up for this. I can’t leave.”

“Well, I’m not quitting.”

“Quitting what? It’s over. Go home,” he replied in a deceptively bored tone.

“No, I don’t trust you.”

He scoffed. “Why? What do you think I’m gonna do?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “The possibilities are endless.”

“Uh-huh. How about if we agree to a single narrative for the press?” Jake gestured with air quotes. “ ‘We had an interesting two-day camp excursion, faced a couple of perilous moments, but managed to work together. We’ll save any real drama forthe regular season hockey. The end.’ Whatever footage Ray has should corroborate. Thoughts?”

I wrinkled my nose. “I never use words like narrative, excursion, or perilous, but…okay. Fine.”