Page 32 of Pucked Up (Punk as Puck #2)
He made a soft choking nose, his expression stunned. “Offers?” His voice was ragged as hell. “When were you going to tell me?”
“I spoke to a few GMs over the last two weeks,” I confessed. “I was going to tell you when I got back, but…well. Here you are.”
“Oh God,” he whispered. “Who?”
I braced myself. “Portland.” He nodded. “Orlando.” He nodded again.
“And Boston.” With that last one, his face brightened like I knew it would.
“The GM for Boston is here this weekend. His name is Vincent, and you’ll probably be getting an email from him so he can woo you over a nice lunch.
” I cleared my throat and tried not to feel like I was handing Boden the keys to leave me forever.
“Take your time with them. Talk to your father. I know he’s a piece-of-shit dad, but he knows hockey. ”
Boden blinked like he’d been slapped. “He’s not a piece-of-shit dad.”
I stared, my face blank.
“Fine, he’s a piece-of-shit dad, but he’s the only one I have.”
“I understand.” I mean, I didn’t. My dad was amazing and had never let me go a day without telling me I was loved. But I knew not everyone had that. “Take whatever help you need, Boden. You deserve this.”
Boden’s jaw tightened, then relaxed. “Did you do this because you want to date me, Hugo?”
“No.” There was no point in lying now. “I did this because you deserved to have this a long time ago. But,” I added when he started to relax, “I do want to date you. I’m done lying about my feelings.
It is what it is, but I understand that you don’t feel that way, and I swear I won’t make it hard for you. ”
He stared for another few breaths. “I think you should go.”
And that was the sound of my heart cracking in half. It was easy to do. The scars where Reid’s death had shattered it were only just healed.
I stood up, then crossed the very short distance between us, then lifted my hand to touch his face.
And then I realized I no longer had that right.
When I started to pull away though, Boden seized me by the wrist and gripped me tight.
Our gazes locked, and then he brought my hand to his cheek and rested the weight of his face against my palm.
“If you need me,” I told him, “you know where my room is.”
“I won’t.”
And that was the sound of my heart breaking into a thousand pieces in my chest, but this was what Boden wanted, and I wasn’t going to make his life harder by fighting him on it. Leaning forward, I cupped his chin one last time and pressed my lips to his forehead.
“You are going to be amazing, my little fire.”
He said nothing. He didn’t even look up, so I wasn’t sure he heard me, and I wasn’t going to make the moment worse by repeating myself. Those words were just for me anyway. I pulled my hand back with a slow drag of fingertips over his cheek, then put more distance between us.
He still didn’t look up. It was a small comfort to know this was hard for him too, but I knew that wasn’t going to be much help as soon as I was alone. Turning on my heel, I made my way toward the door, and he didn’t stop me.
It closed once more with a heavy slam, and the walk to the elevator felt like I had two-ton weights in my shoes. The ride up to the sixth floor took so long that I started to crack. My eyes were hot, and my throat was tight.
When the doors dinged open, I stepped out and almost immediately into someone’s chest. “Merde. Sorry, I?—”
“Shit.” It was Ford, balanced precariously on his crutches since he still wasn’t wearing his prosthetic.
He gripped me by the shoulder and stared into my eyes.
“Shit. Oh no. This isn’t your happy face.
” Ah. He knew. “I’m…I have to…Micah is in your room if you need someone, but Bodie just texted me and… yeah. Uh. I need to go.”
“Of course,” I told him. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
Ford looked like he wanted to cry, and then he lunged past me and dove into the elevator car before the doors shut. I heard him hit the ground with a heavy thud, and then he was gone too. The hallway was empty, and my chest was aching.
It wasn’t a long walk to the room, and the second I opened the door, Micah was there. His warm, strong arms came around me, and the hug was what ruined my threadbare control. I let out the softest sob against his shirt, hoping I’d muffled it enough that anyone passing in the hall couldn’t hear it.
“Ford told me,” Micah said, twisting his hands in my shirt tightly. “I didn’t know about you and Boden.”
I shook my head and sniffed. “There’s nothing to know.”
He laughed. “Yeah, see, that’s bullshit.”
“He was very clear.”
“Trust me.” Micah pulled back and touched the top of my shoulder the way he’d done back at the train car when we were talking.
His way of eye contact, he’d told me then.
“He’s never clear about anything because the man literally lives with his head wedged so far up his own asshole he could clear out his own intestines. ”
“Euh…”
“He’s going to regret this, okay? Believe me. I know him, and he’s going to realize letting you go was a huge mistake.”
“Will he admit it?”
Micah laughed, then took my hand and dragged me to one of the beds. They were both a mess, with the blankets and sheets completely disordered. It looked like he and Ford had been jumping on them, and the part of me not in raging pain appreciated the mental image.
“Who the fuck knows, but I think for you, he might. For now, let’s watch some shitty reality show about disaster people and feel better about our lives.”
It was maybe the best idea I’d heard all night.