Page 40 of Chasing the Puck

“Why?” he finally asks, obliviously.

“Because I don’t need you or anyone else coming to my rescue. I can take care of myself.” Frustration rises in my throat.

My family’s always struggled financially, and though it’s been hard, it’s built up in me an independent streak. It’s something I’m proud of, honestly. I’m proud that I’ve made it without the help that a lot of people my age have.

Tuck swooping in with his family’s money and taking care of this for me … it doesn’t sit well with me. At all.

I know he was just trying to help, and part of me recognizes I should appreciate that; but right now, a much larger part feels offended. Like he’s trying to play the rich big shot and treating me like a charity case.

“But you did need someone to help you with the car,” he protests. He’s saying the words like he’s making a simple, uncomplicated statement, no different than reading a shopping list. “And I could help you. So, I did. Now you can go to the next round of auditions in Burlington and knock ‘em fucking dead like I know you will. What’s there to be upset about?”

“You don’t get it,” I bite back.

He huffs. “You’re right about that.”

“How did you get my keys, anyway? Are you breaking into my house now?”

“No,” he replies, before following up with, “not really. I tagged along with Hudson yesterday when he dropped by to visit Salsa when you weren’t there.” Salsa’s Hudson’s cat who lives in Summer’s room now. “I found your keys by the door and swiped them. Figured you wouldn’t even notice they were gone since you’re not using the car. Or at least you weren’t,” he says, adding emphasis. “You can now.”

Underneath the annoyance at Tuck for overstepping boundaries, the frustration that he doesn’t understand why I’m upset, and the sting of insecurity I feel at the idea of Tuck seeing me as someone who needs his charity, an ember of excitement glows.

Excitement that I actually might be able to get that Macbeth role now.

For some reason, that only ratchets up the negative feelings swirling inside me. I feel a pinch of shame that this opportunity is only available to me now because some rich guy took pity on me.

“I don’t get what the big deal is,” Tuck continues. “I was in a position to help you, so I helped you. That’s what friends do, right?”

“Oh, is that what we are? Friends?” My sarcasm comes out harsher than I intended.

“Whatever, Olivia,” Tuck says after a beat of silence on his end. “Talk to you later.”

Then, he ends the call.

I’m stewing in a bad mood and conflicting emotions. The rotten cherry on top is the feeling of guilt that laces through everything. Tuck overstepped his bounds, and I’m not in the wrong to feel peeved about it. But I can’t stop thinking of the hurt tone in his voice right before he ended the call, after I clearly implied we’re not friends.

But we’re not friends, right?

Does a friend finger you at a nightclub and then suck off your juices?

A shudder rolls through me at the memory. Now there’s a tight heat at the peak of my thighs, and that sure as hell isn’t making the cocktail of emotions I’m feeling right now any less vexing.

A gust of cold air blows up the street, reminding me that I’m still standing outside. I march up our walkway and into the house.

Instead of that cup of tea I was planning on, I think I need a big glass of wine.

17

TUCK

Ikick the wall of the barricade with my skate when I plop down on the bench after a shift change.

“Shit,” I curse myself. If there’s one word to describe how I’ve been playing tonight, that’s the one.

I’ve had the puck stolen from me, I’ve blown passes, I’ve skated sloppy, I’ve missed on shots that I had no excuse not to make.

I’m totally out of sorts thanks to another dumb fight with Olivia. I can’t focus on what’s going on around me on the ice, even though hockey’s supposed to be the one thing in my life that I give one hundred percent of myself to.

Even when I’m skating past defenders with the puck on the blade of my stick, trying to avoid bodychecks, in the back of my mind I’m still replaying the conversation we had on the phone the other day. Trying to understand why me doing something nice for her made her mad.

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