Page 68 of Puck My Stepbrother

“Oh, um, yeah. Well, I guess we could do that.”

Jeff looked stunned. Not like someone had slapped him across the face, though. More like someone had said something peculiar and he didn’t understand.

“I thought things have been going pretty well between us,” he said. “I thought you felt the same way.”

“And I do.”

“You do, but…”

Oh yes, there was always a but.

Are you surprised?My inner voice returned.You shouldn’t be. You’ve been lying to yourself all this time. You say you want to be with Jeff and only Jeff, but you know better. Every time you think of riding off into the sunset with him, Levi’s face pops into your brain.

“Is there a problem?” Jeff asked.

“No, there’s no problem, it’s just that…”

I couldn’t deny that technically therewasa problem. I’d been unable to make love to Jeff. He’d been a good sport about that, but he would have limits. If we became a committed couple, he absolutelywouldexpect sex, and then what would I do?

“I think we should give it a little more time, okay?” I said. “I just need to sort some things out.”

And then I turned away from Jeff, shutting him out. When I closed my eyes, all I saw was Levi Dunn.

26

LEVI

Istayed up late, waiting for Quinn to return home. I glanced up at the clock and found the hands at ten o’clock—much later than his usual return time. Trust me, this kid was usually in his room by eight.

He’d been avoiding me. How could I not know? But I understood why. He’d done it for the same reason I’d felt so sluggish on the ice.

He was consumed by thoughts about me.

He was in love.

Oh yeah, he wouldn’t cop to that in a million years, but that didn’t make it any less true.

He was in love, and he wanted to be with me. I was in love and wanted to be with him. It made too much sense not to pursue it.

I waited downstairs for him on the couch, watching the Sabres vs the Leafs, wondering when I’d see my former teammates Erik De Ruiter or Kayden Preston in uniform. The sound of the front door opening tore my focus from the TV. When Quinn passed through the kitchen, I glanced over my shoulder, and he froze as if caught committing a crime.

“Where’ve you been?” I asked.

“Just out.”

He muttered rather than forming actual words. He opened the fridge, grabbed a carton of milk, and poured some into a glass. I hopped up off the couch and shuffled over to meet him.

I stood behind him, putting my hands on his arms, and he drew in a deep breath. Then his head tilted back and I kissed his lips. I knew he’d turn into putty in my hands the moment I did that, and I wasn’t wrong. Kissing Quinn felt so natural, and I knew he felt the same.

But he pulled away from me and darted to the opposite side of the kitchen, like he couldn’t allow that to happen again. Then he leaned against the sink like he might be willing to listen to me.

“Come here and let me kiss you again,” I said. “I know you love it. So do I.”

He looked away, like he wanted to protest, but he knew deep down how much he loved my touch.

“We’ve got things to talk about,” I said.

“Yeah, I think we do.”