Page 6 of Puck’N Enemy (Thunder Knights #2)

Logan

My hands shake as I stumble out of the alley.

I can still feel him, under my palms and against my mouth. The tang of blood still coats my tongue, reminding me of the way Dylan kissed me back for one goddamn second before reality crashed down on both of us.

My heart hammers against my ribs, out of rhythm and broken.

A cold breeze blows by but it’s not enough to chase away the wildfire raging inside me. What the hell did I just do?

I scrub my face, breathing hard. Fuck, I can still taste him.

Why the hell does he still taste the same, like no time has passed at all?

I hate Dylan. I should hate him.

But I did like the way it felt to have him pinned against me so he couldn’t run away this time. It also felt good to see the shock in his eyes when he took my punishment.

I stop in the middle of the sidewalk, realizing I hurt him. A sliver of guilt flickers in my gut but I ignore it.

Dylan deserved that and more.

I should’ve probably punched him instead of kissing him. Making those luscious lips bleed was nothing compared to what he did to me in the past.

A ragged breath escapes me as I stare up at the sky.

Even now, after everything that’s happened between us, there’s a piece of me that still wants Dylan. Because no matter how much I hate him, no matter how much I tell myself I’m done with him, I’m not even close to letting him go.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, breaking me out of my thoughts.

Back to the present, I realize I’ve walked further away from the diner.

Grabbing my phone, I take a look at the flashing screen. It’s my mom.

“Hey,” I say, picking up her call.

“Where are you, Logan?” she asks in an impatient voice. “You were supposed to be here already. Maddie wants you to help her decorate the living room.”

“Sorry, Mom,” I mutter. “I was hanging out with my friends and lost track of time. I’ll be there in half an hour,” I tell her, intentionally keeping quiet about chasing Dylan.

Switching off the call, I put my phone back in my pocket and hail a cab to take me home. It’s my baby sister’s birthday today and she’s invited all her friends this evening.

Maddie is turning eight years old today. A smile comes onto my lips as I think of her. I’ll make sure she has the best birthday party today.

Sitting in the backseat of the car, I gaze at the streets passing by. It’s the only way to stay distracted while my mind keeps reminding me of Dylan and the way it felt to have him pressed against me once again.

Thankfully, the car ride gets over soon.

Paying the driver, I step out and head to a nearby supermarket to pick up some stuff for Maddie. Since there will be other seven- and eight-year-olds at the party, I have to make sure it’s packed with fun and lots of candies.

Entering the supermarket, I head directly to the party section.

Maddie should’ve been here , I think, gazing at the brightly colored pinatas hanging from the display. In the end, though, I grab a giant, candy-pink unicorn like the one Maddie requested.

A bittersweet emotion slices through me. It won’t be long before Maddie outgrows unicorns, princesses, and knights who fight dragons.

Exhaling a sigh, I proceed to pick up balloons, party hats, birthday banners, and loads of tape to hold them all in place.

My arms are loaded with my purchases by the time I step out of the supermarket. Home is just a couple of blocks away from here, so I just walk the rest of the way.

The trees of the neighborhood are turning into flaming shades of yellow, orange, and red. Fall is here, right in time for Maddie’s birthday.

I follow the wide street, flanked by the cookie-cutter houses of our humble neighborhood.

“Logan!” a loud voice calls my name just as I stop beside the fenced gate of my home.

Maddie runs out of the door and crosses the lawn to welcome me.

“You’re late,” she says, wrapping her arms around my waist and hugging me tightly. “My friends will be here any second, and we don’t even have balloons!”

A chuckle escapes me as I lift her up in my arms.

“Mom’s making me chocolate cake,” she tells me as I carry her inside the house. “She also bought me the dollhouse I wanted for Christmas. Oh, and do you know Mom’s also making the sugar cookies you like? I don’t like pecans much, but I’ll eat them if they’re in a cookie.”

I nod, pretending to look serious.

“What about you, Logan? Didn’t you get me anything for my birthday?” she asks as I step through the door.

At once, the smell of freshly-baked chocolate cake wafts into my nostrils.

“I got you the coloring set you were eyeing at the bookshop,” I tell her, setting her down on her feet.

Her chocolate-brown eyes, so damn similar to mine, widen at once. “But they’re so expensive!” she cries out, looking both excited and concerned.

“I just want you to enjoy them, okay?” I say, brushing a thumb over her chubby cheek.

“But—”

“Maddie, you’re just eight years old,” I remind her. “You don’t have to worry about how much paint costs just yet.”

“Thank you,” she says shyly. “I searched your room for my present but I didn’t find it. Do you have it with you now?” she asks, glancing at the bags in my hand.

“Nope, the present isn’t in my room,” I say, chuckling and handing her all the decoration stuff. “Here, start blowing the balloons while I go say hi to Mom.”

She pouts. “Okay. But you’ve got to come and help me. My friends will be here soon.”

“I’ll be right back,” I tell her and head into the kitchen.

“Hey, kiddo,” Mom greets me with a wooden spoon in her hand.

“Hey,” I say, moving forward to hug.

She gives me a tired but warm smile. For the occasion, she’s dressed in a pink floral dress and matching shoes, but her hair is escaping the clip she’s tied to keep her messy bun in place.

“What do you think of the cake?” she asks, standing back to show me her creation.

“It’s chocolate,” I say, grinning at the thick ganache that coats the whole cake. “Everyone’s going to love it.” I look around the kitchen, taking in the paper plates and cups on the counter. “Mom, do you need any help?”

“I have everything in control here,” she says, smiling. “Just go help Maddie put up some balloons.”

“On it,” I tell her.

Going back to the living room, I see Maddie playing with the unicorn pinata.

“Come on, let’s hang it up,” I say, stepping closer to her.

“I can’t wait to eat all the candies inside it,” she says, grinning excitedly. “Mom didn’t let me eat any sweets yesterday or today. And it’s my birthday today.”

“She was helping you save your appetite. You can go crazy later tonight,” I say, quickly blowing up the balloons she’s ignored while I was gone.

The living room is soon filled with them. Maddie’s unicorn pinata hangs from the ceiling in a corner, ready to be broken into. A big birthday banner is strung over the window, adding more color and glitter to the chaotic decorations.

Someone rings the doorbell just as I’m clearing away the packaging stuff from the room.

“Looks like you guys made it in time,” Mom says, walking into the room and moving toward the door.

Maddie straightens the tiara on her head and runs behind Mom. A chuckle escapes me at her excitement. She’s ready to welcome her precious guests to the party.

I hang back as a tiny chaos erupts in our living room. More of Maddie’s friends come in, all gleefully taking in the giant unicorn pinata we put up earlier.

“Logan, come on,” Mom calls out to me. “We’re about to cut the cake.”

A gaggle of eight-year-olds has already surrounded the table. Maddie stands in the center with a knife in her hand, ready to blow out candles and cut her cake.

I sing off-key along with them, clapping the loudest.

A big grin spreads on my sister’s face as she blows out her candles and makes her wish. That smile is bright enough to light up the world and make me forget about my worries.

Maddie runs over to me with a piece of cake.

“Thanks, squirt,” I say, taking the cake from her. “And happy birthday.”

Beaming up at me, she grabs my hand and makes me face her friends.

“My big brother is here,” she announces while I silently cringe as she presses chocolate icing into my palm. “He’s the captain of the Thunder Knights team!”

The kids stare at me with wide eyes, clearly impressed by that title. I chuckle at the pride radiating from my little sister’s face as she parades me around the room.

A sigh escapes me. It feels good to be home.

Mom and some of the parents get busy cutting the rest of the cake and giving out plates of food and glasses of soda to everyone. While some of the kids get into an argument about who gets the biggest slice, Maddie quietly walks up to me.

“Logan,” she says in a quieter voice.

“Yeah, birthday girl?”

She fiddles with the hem of her dress for a second before glancing up at me. Why does she suddenly look hesitant and shy?

“Is Dylan still away?”

The name hits me like a punch to the gut. I blink, thrown off by her question.

“You still remember him?” I ask.

Maddie nods with a serious look on her adorable face.

“Of course, I remember Dylan. He was like a big brother, too. He taught me how to make braids on my Barbie’s hair, you know?

And that one time I got sick, Dylan brought me a teddy bear to keep me company.

I wish he could eat a slice of my birthday cake, too. ”

My throat tightens.

I tried my hardest to forget it all but I still remember.

I remember Dylan chasing Maddie around the yard, playing tag. When Maddie was too tired from running, he’d play house with her dolls. He’d even sit with her and color her unicorn picture books.

“I loved Dylan,” Maddie says, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “I thought he’d always be around.”

I look at her trusting face and something cracks wide open inside me. “I thought so too, squirt,” I whisper, patting her shoulder gently. “I really did.”

Smiling, she leans against me.

I wrap my arm around her, pulling her close.

For a while, we just sit on the couch, watching the chaos her friends make over bursting balloons. The noise and laughter wash over me, reminding me of a simpler life.

A hollow ache grows in my chest.

I want the past back. I want to stop hating Dylan and carrying this immense weight on my chest that sinks deeper every day.

I’m about to say something to Maddie but she suddenly springs to her feet and runs toward the pinata hanging in the corner. It’s not long before her friends join her, and together, they laugh and cry, whacking the paper unicorn for candy.

The house has gone quiet.

Maddie is fast asleep on the couch, curled up in a pile of stuffed animals. Her tiara sits crooked on her head while a smudge of chocolate icing still lingers in the corner of her mouth.

A chuckle escapes me at the sight. She gorged on cake and candies this afternoon but after all the shouting, jumping, and running, she’s finally exhausted.

The soft hum of jazz music floats from Mom’s bedroom upstairs. She’s exhausted too but she’s still up, grading papers. Mom’s a teacher and her job never seems to get over.

The warm scent of cake still lingers in the air, but a cold sensation spreads in my chest. Walking out of the living room, I head to the kitchen and open the door to the backyard.

My gaze roves over the old net Dylan and I used to practice on.

The back fence is still a little crooked from the time we used to jump over it, pretending a monster was chasing us.

The rusty swing set in the corner creaks in the night breeze.

Under the glow of the porch light, everything looks smaller than I remember.

I step into the yard, feeling the chill of the night.

Crossing the yard, I reach the net. The edges have frayed at the corners, one side sagging but still standing.

Why didn’t Mom throw it out already? I quietly wonder. I don’t stay at home, preferring to stay in the dorms to stay closer to the university and the ice rink. She should’ve gotten rid of it a long time ago.

Walking away from the net, I sink onto a bench, elbows on my knees and let my head fall into my hands.

I loved Dylan , Maddie’s voice echoes in my head.

My sister said it so simply, like love isn’t the complicated, splintered thing it had become for me.

I hate how I still feel for Dylan. Even after all the betrayal and simmering anger he left in his wake, I still can’t help but feel something more than hatred.

Because I just can’t forget the way Dylan used to look at me.

He still looks at me that way, igniting the fire in my heart. My lips throb, reminding me of the hot, frantic kiss we shared this afternoon.

My fists clench. That kiss should’ve never happened.

I’ve had enough of Dylan stealing glances at me from a distance.

I don’t care about the guilt he feels toward me. I just need to hear the reason why he betrayed me and then disappeared without a word.

Standing up slowly, I brush the dew off my jeans.

The next time I see him, I’m going to force him to confess , I decide. I won’t let him off easy again and let him run from me.