Page 36 of Pucked Up (Punk as Puck #2)

The words were like a fist slamming repeatedly into my gut. Not from the lie but from the truth of it. Something I’d been trying to avoid. I’d fallen for him that first night, and every second we spent together, it got worse.

And worse.

Until I was too far gone and my heart was his.

I hadn’t realized it was possible again after Reid, and falling for a man who would never want me the same way I wanted him was gutting enough. Love was too much pain to be worth it, even if I couldn’t stop it.

“I’m sorry,” Ford said.

Of course he was. He knew better than anyone that Boden would never want me back, and Ford was a kind person. “I’ll survive it. I’ve survived worse.”

“Reid,” he said.

I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply. “Like Reid. He would have loved you all, by the way. I don’t—I don’t talk about him enough. But he would have. He would have felt more at home on this team than he did with Montreal.”

“That’s bullshit,” Ford said.

I smiled, knowing it wasn’t. “He loved the game. When he had to leave the NHL, he was gutted, but it was because those guys had become our family. I think he knew deep down he’d play again, but it wouldn’t feel the same. If he’d come here, he would have had that again.”

“I’m glad he didn’t,” Ford said, and I flinched.

“No, not—fuck. Not because he wasn’t amazing.

I mean, I don’t know, but he loved you, so he was probably pretty freaking great.

But, like, I’m soft, okay? I can’t take losing people or watching creatures suffer.

I’m struggling with the idea of my best friend playing two hours away from me.

If Tuck and Bodie hadn’t literally made me sign my soul to them, promising that I wouldn’t adopt every stray kitten I saw, I’d be overrun right now. So…yeah. Death? No, thank you.”

I didn’t want to tell him that at some point, he would have to face that. It was inevitable. We all had to do it at least once in our lives. But it wasn’t always as bad as losing a spouse.

“Anyway, uh…that sounds super disrespectful of his memory, so I’m sorry.” He cleared his throat loudly. “Want to see pics of my Nugget?”

“Is that…a name for a body part?” I asked, taking a step back.

Ford grinned in a way that told me it was probably the name for his left ball or butthole or something. “Nah. She’s my kitten, and she’s literally the most amazing thing that ever lived.”

Nugget was maybe not the most amazing thing that ever lived, but she was very cute. She was obviously mixed with Persian because she had a fluffy tail and a squished face, but the rest of her coat was sleek, and she was calico colored.

“I found her in the trash behind the rink,” Ford said as we were heading for the elevator.

The benefit had already started, and still no word from Boden or Micah, which was making me a little antsy.

Ford had sent another three texts, but they’d gone unread.

Showing me cat photos was obviously his way of coping, and I was happy to let him distract me.

“Some dickhead put her in there to die.”

“That’s monstrous.”

“I know, right. I wish I knew who the fucker was. I’d put him in the goddamn dumpster.” He leaned against me as he flipped through another series of photos of Nugget yawning. He kept going until his screen paused on a man holding the cat, who looked very familiar.

“Is that Tucker?”

It couldn’t be though. He had two brown eyes and no scars and hair that was a little longer and a few shades darker.

“Haha, what, no.” Ford quickly closed out of his photo app. “That was just…a random stranger. You didn’t see that. ”

I stared at him. “Who?—”

The doors to the elevator opened, and Ford swept out, getting immediately lost in the crowd ahead of us. I’d only seen the person for a second, but that was most definitely weird. I thought about making a big deal of it, but in reality, I was still looking for a way to distract myself.

I didn’t want to be there, and the feeling only got worse when I walked into the ballroom and saw black and white banners of Reid’s face hanging everywhere. He wasn’t a stranger to me, of course. I had photos of him on my phone, one in my office, and several in the house.

He was always smiling at me from some room somewhere. But this was different. This was Reid in his element. And several, of course, had me in them. I didn’t look like myself. My gaze was haunted, and there wasn’t a smile to be found as I stood behind him and pushed him around the rink.

He was passionate about disabled people having the same access to fame and respect that able-bodied athletes did, but privately, we both knew it had been a compromise. He’d never score top points again. He could barely take a swipe at the puck with the functionality of his arms after the accident.

He was on the ice for show. Every team wanted him, but only because he was Reid Martin. He was their founder. Their god. What kind of people would they be if they put stats ahead of the man himself?

And he’d hated knowing that.

I should have stayed home. I should have just stayed out of all of it. I should have refused to take Arnaud’s call and never come to Massachusetts at all. Then I wouldn’t have met Boden, and my heart wouldn’t be in a million pieces, and…

No . No, I didn’t really believe that. Just like with Reid, having Boden for a little while was better than never knowing him at all. The pain would always be worth it, even when it felt impossible to bear.

And I would get through tonight too.

Spying the open bar, I carefully began to weave my way through the crowd when I felt a firm hand on my arm. “Hugo? No way!”

And so…it began.