Page 10 of Pucked Together

I turn to look at Keelan. "A jack and jill bath, really?"

He scratches the back of his neck, "Uh, probably didn't think that through."

"We figured it out," I say, pushing past him to sit on my bed.

Keelan shuts the door behind him, giving Ryker some much-needed privacy.

"Listen, I know this is all kind of rushed and not really thought out." Keelan sits next to me on the bed. "But I'm here for you. And the guys know not to mess with you. But should I be worried about that?" He mumbles and motions towards the bathroom door.

I pet Wednesday and take a deep breath, "He's harmless." I say while doing my best to push aside thoughts of what I just saw.

"Yeah, he is," he admits. "But good news, you'll never be lonely," he gives me a half smile—his attempt at smoothing things over.

I give him a blank stare as a response.

"Look, if it makes you feel better, you can have my room. Ryker's my best friend. A major pain in the ass, but a damned good friend."

"I heard that," Ryker's muffled voice sounds off from the bathroom, and I can't help my eye roll.

"Like I said," Keelan says louder, "total pain in the ass."

"Don't worry about it. I won't make you give up your bachelor pad. You've done enough, Kee. Seriously."

And I mean it. Plus, I don't know what kind of organisms are crawling through Keelan's bed. He's not immune from bringing home a puck bunny or two. So, no, thank you.

But out of everyone I've had in my life, Keelan has always been my constant—acting more like a father than a brother at times. Between him and Aunt Ginny, who took me in when I was only six, they made me who I am.

He lowers his voice to a whisper, knowing that Ryker can hear him.

"How are you doing with the whole...ex thing."

I shrug holding Wednesday close to me and nuzzling her.

If Keelan is my constant human, Wednesday is my wicked emotional support animal.

"I mean, I still want to burn his place down."

"My little arsonist," Keelan says, shaking his head and petting Wednesday. He has a hint of pride as he says it, though. Wednesday flinches. Uncomfortable with anyone’s touch but my own, so he drops his hand.

"But...the feeling lessens every day. I guess."

"Progress," he smiles, and it touches his eyes. My brother is genuinely happy that I'm here.

"Well, you know what helps me get over an ex?" He continues.

"Chocolate cake?" I offer.

"What? No. That was one time," he laughs. "Though I’m not opposed to sharing a whole cake with you again. But no, girl. A good night out! Tomorrow's Friday. After practice, you're coming out with me and the guys. We'll show you what Houston has to offer. And trust me," he says, standing up and patting my leg, "LA's got nothing on us."

Before I even have a chance to protest and remind him I hail from the land of drunk celebs and broken dreams, he leaves the room and shuts the door behind me.

A good night out.

I haven't had one of those in a while. Not since...well, not since the last time I was out with the two people who left my heart for dead. The thought of them together sickens me, so I try to take my mind off of them by scrolling through social media.

Instant regret.

One of the first photos I see is our old crew from campus hanging out at one of our regular spots we'd go to after Trevor's home games. I had unfollowed both of them, but they're still hanging out with people I know.

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