Page 55 of All Your Pucking Secrets

I’m making progress.

I push one of the massive wooden doors open and step inside, inhaling the familiar odor of damp sweat combined with the spicy tang of liniment. I turn toward the corridor that leads to the changing rooms and frown. Echo’s friend, Ryan, is leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest.

He straightens and saunters toward me. Ryan isn’t as big as me, but he’s a college baseball player so his arms are muscular and he’s only an inch or two shorter than me. His strength is part of the reason I chose him.

“What are you doing here?” I demand as he stops in front of me.

“Echo has been different since you arrived,” Ryan replies, his dark eyes studying me carefully. “Not in a good way. I need to know what your game is.”

“I told you; I want her back.” I glance at my watch. Practice starts soon, and I don’t have time for this. “That’s all there is to it.”

“Uh-huh.” A skeptical line forms between his eyebrows. “And you think giving her expensive gifts and stalking her are the way to do that?”

I shift from one foot to the other. How does he know what I’ve been doing? I haven’t discussed it with him. Has Echo talked to him? Or is he playing his own angle here?

“How did you—?”

“Not important.” He cuts me off. “If you know anything about Echo, you should know that you can’t buy her forgiveness for whatever happened between you before.”

I huff. “Maybe not, but it’s the only way I know how to try.” I hate admitting that to him. “She won’t hear me out, so what else am I supposed to do?”

He snorts with a wry sort of amusement. “You hurt her. I don’t know how, and I don’t know why, but of course she isn’t going to be open to hearing what she probably believes will be excuses. She’s protecting herself.”

“I don’t want her to have to protect herself from me.” I want to be the person she goes to when she needs protection. The man she leans on. The person she’d use her one phone call to contact if she were ever arrested. But I surrendered the right to be that person a long time ago.

“Yeah, well, if wanting something made it true then I’d already have a contract with a major league team and a million dollars in my bank account.”

I narrow my eyes, silently warning him to get to the point.

“Maybe you should try something more subtle,” he suggests.

I scowl. Subtle isn’t really my thing. “Like what?”

He shrugs. “It’s not my job to sort this shit out for you. I’m just doing my best to keep Echo safe—emotionally, as well as physically.” He scratches his stubbled jaw. “Do you have any mutual friends who could ease her into the idea of talking to you?”

“No,” I say instinctively, but then stop and think. I can’t afford to dismiss any idea without at least considering it. Not when I have so much ground to make up. Sure, I’m moving forward with her, but there’s a long way to go before she might be willing to give me a second chance.

We didn’t share any friends in high school because we were from different worlds. My friends were rich, privileged, and for the most part, on the hockey team. Other than that, the only people I spent time with were the girls I hooked up with.

The few students who didn’t shun Echo for being there on a scholarship—and therefore beneath them—were more academically inclined. To them, her brilliant mind made her their equal. But those same people weren’t interested in my average grades and didn’t understand my love of hockey.

Or my occasional hatred of it.

Even if we had gone to school with someone who fit the bill, I’m not in touch with anyone from high school anymore, and that’s the way I like it.

Well, except for my sister.

Of course. Soraya.

Echo never got to know her other than in passing, but surely, she’ll be more open to listening to another woman. Especially a younger, non-threatening one.

“Ryan, you’re a genius,” I exclaim.

He eyeballs me. “I’m not sure I like your expression, but I won’t ask. Just remember that if you blow it, I know how to wield a bat and I’m not afraid to use one to crush your ball sack.”

I wince. Maybe he’s not as nice as I always thought he was. “I won’t. There’s no need to threaten my nuts.”

He mimes smacking a bat against his palm as he walks past me and out the exit. I glance at my watch and swear. Better get a move on.

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