Page 67 of Puck My Life

How can we change it? Every time I say I’ll be different, I end up back here, looking at my mistakes through a veil of regret and anger.

I grab my stuff and head out, but I don’t get far when I’m caught up by the journalists. They surround us, cameras flashing, questions coming in hot and heavy.

I smile at them and stick my finger up before pushing through the throng and leaving them to it.

In the car, I turn on the music and just sit in the dark, letting my thoughts run together. When did it all start going wrong? Why is she leaving? Why now?

I pull my hair and then hit the steering wheel over and over until my hand aches.

I check my phone and curse when I see a message from Mal saying he’s getting dropped off at home. The drive home takes minutes, or maybe I’m just that zoned out.

There are no missed calls from Indy, which is a blessing because I cannot deal with her tonight. I don’t know how to get it through her head that I hate the clingy, jealous behaviour. She’s pretty and a good fuck, but it’s getting to the point where her ugly is bleeding through heroutside.

Her voice grates on me. Her perfume puts me in a worse mood than being in a locker room full of alphas.

I wearily climb out of the car and carry my bags inside. I need to figure out the washing machine. Eat something.

The house is quiet, but I find Raynor sitting in the kitchen, nursing a cup of coffee. He sees me and goes to the fridge, pulling out a beer and sliding it across the table to me.

“Where’s Mal?”

“He’s in bed. Just bruises and a sore shoulder. I think his ego is hurt more than anything else. Losing the way you did tonight and the last time you played isn’t why people spend years training to get here.”

Those words hit harder than the coaches did. The beer is cold, but it’s not strong enough.

“No parties tonight. Maybe no more. You need to seriously look at what you’re fighting the team for, Deacon. You’re going down and dragging him with you.”

I sit silently, letting his words lash me. The bond is filled with his irritation, and I almost rise to his challenge, bringing the fight to an alpha who can handle me. I don’t quite have it in me.

Still, I bristle.

Raynor stands up and walks out of the kitchen before I can lob some bitter words at him that will turn this tense exchange into a violent clash.

For hours, I sit at the table staring into space. It was the way she was dressed; I decide. The gown hugged her; it changed her. I felt like a veil had been dragged back in my mind. I was playing before, but I’m no longer laughing.

This isn’t fun anymore.

I get up and go and stand in her room. There’s the faintest trace of something sweet in the air, something that is distinctly her. Mal is asleep on his stomach, his face buried in her pillows.

“What am I even doing?”

I walk out and almost bowl her over. I catch her by the waist, swinging her back to my chest. Is she really here?

“I was just thinking about you. And now here you are, like magic,” I murmur.

Her eyes flare wide. “You were?”

“Yes,” I slide my hands up to her shoulders and massage them. “I was thinking about you leaving and turning our lives all upside down.”

My temper suddenly flares into life. I drop my hands off her like I’ve been burned and walk back into the kitchen, then out the back. I stand on the porch and stare up at the sky.

“I saw the game.”

“Oh, were you there?”

There’s no disguising the bitter anger in my voice.

“Of course, I was there,” she says in a hurt voice. “It didn’t look like it went well. Do you want to talk about it?”