Page 11 of Puck Blocked
“I won’t snoop.” I shake my head from side to side and instantly regret it. My temples are pounding.
“I’ll be back as soon as practice is over.”
“Okay.”
Luke gently closes the door and I try to go back to sleep, but it’s pointless. After about thirty minutes of lying in his bed, I get up. Walk into his bathroom and turn on the shower. It takes a bit of time and effort to peel myself out of my clothes.
When I finally do, I look into the mirror and gasp. I’m used to seeing all the marks. But right now, my entire torso is a rainbow of colors. From red, where some of my capillaries have been ruptured, to a dark purple almost black, where the deepest bruises have set in. My neck is outlined in fresh handprints and my face, well, it’s worse.
I turn away, step under the warm water streaming from the showerhead, and let it soothe my aching muscles. Then I squirt some of Luke’s shower gel onto my hands and wash everywhere. I want to smell like him. It’s calming.
After I’m as clean as I can get myself, I turn off the water and gently pat my body dry. This isn’t the first time I’ve had to recover, and it probably won’t be the last. What I do know is the more I force myself to move around, the quicker I’ll heal. Lying down all day will just make my muscles stiffer, sorer.
I glance at the sweats and hoodie from the gift shop piled up on the ground where I left them and am reminded that I don’t have anything else to wear. But I can’t just help myself to Luke’s closet. So I decide to put those back on. It’s safer.
As soon as I’m dressed, I shuffle out of the bathroom and over to the bed. Where I smooth out the sheets and readjust the comforter. Then I do the same in the guest room before I pick up the cup and plate and walk them downstairs.
It takes me a good five minutes to find my way to the kitchen. This house is huge, with a freaking maze of hallways and doors. I drop the unwanted sandwich into the trash can and wash the plate. As I’m tipping the leftover tea down the sink, I spot a note on the counter. It has my name on it so I pick it up and turn it over.
Tanna,
I left the kettle hot. Tea bags are in the top left cabinet and there’s a plate of fruit in the fridge. Please eat something. Help yourself to whatever else you may want.
— L
After making myself a cup of tea, I find the plate of fruit in the fridge and pick at it. The sound of heels clicking on the marble floor has me freezing to the spot. Someone’s here. But at least that someone isn’t Andrew. I know what his steps sound like. The sound is ingrained in my nightmares. I glance up just as a beautiful brunette appears in the kitchen.
“Oh, sorry. I thought you might be asleep still,” the woman says. “I’m Aliyah, Grayson Monroe’s sister. Luke asked me to drop some things off.”
“Oh, hi. I’m… uh… Montana.” I grin awkwardly. The swelling on my face makes it hard to smile.
“Well, I’m glad you’re awake. I wanted to meet you.”
“You did?”
“Oh, I’ve wanted to meet you for years.” She laughs. “Now, is the kettle still hot?” She doesn’t wait for an answer before she pulls down a mug and a tea bag, knowing exactly where to find everything.
“How long have you known Luke?”
“Since he signed with the Knights. Luke and Gray have had this whole bromance thing going on since day one.” She hums as she pours hot water into her mug. “But you’ve known him forever, right?”
“Our mothers were friends, and my brother and Luke were inseparable.” I can’t help but watch her. Everything about the woman screams confidence.
“And you and Luke?” Aliyah raises her eyebrows in question, and I drop my eyes to the plate of fruit when I realize she caught me staring.
“We were friends because of Sean.” I shrug.
“Mmm, okay. Well, I have a brand-new wardrobe for you. From the looks of it, Luke did a good job guessing your size.”
“You didn’t have to do that. I’m sorry.”
“Please, spending someone else’s money is like my favorite thing to do. Just ask my husband.” She laughs.
My eyes widen. Of course he’s spending money. How else does someone get new clothes? Shit. I don’t know how I’m going to be able to repay him. I’ll have to think of something. Maybe find a side job while I’m here in Vancouver.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ve seen his contract. He can afford it, trust me,” Aliyah says, almost like she can read my mind.
When I don’t say anything in return, she continues talking. Filling in the silence. It doesn’t take me long to feel more comfortable around her. She even gets me to agree to watch a movie with her before she grabs my arm and drags me into the theater room.
