Page 105 of Pucking Amazing

By the time I collapse into bed each night, I’m thoroughly drained. But sleep proves elusive as forbidden fantasies of DJ and Tyler continue to invade my mind—the brush of their fingers on my skin, their lips on my neck, hands roaming my curves...

I toss and turn, aching for their touch.

Get a grip, I scold myself. You were the one who chose to end things. This is the right decision.

But keeping my distance is pure torture, especially with the tension of playoffs ratcheting higher with each passing day. I just pray I can hold it together without completely losing my mind.

After a particularly long day I collapse onto the couch, feeling like I just played a triple-header of championship games without any breaks. Every muscle aches but it’s my mind that feels most battered, thoughts swirling nonstop.

The front door swings open and Selena struts in, her electric blue bodycon dress as bold as her personality. “Syd! Get your cute butt up, we’re going out!”

I groan, burying my face in a throw pillow. “I can’t, Sel. I’m exhausted.”

She perches on the armrest, narrowing her smoky eyes at me. “You’ve been hiding in this apartment all week. You need a night out with your sis! Flirty bartenders, spicy margaritas...”

“I’m too stressed and tired for all that.” I pull the pillow tighter.

“Babe, I’m worried about you.” Her voice softens. “You can’t just work and wallow. If you aren’t going to let yourself be happy with your guys, then?—”

“Don’t.” I sit up abruptly. “I’m fine, okay? I just...need rest.”

Selena sighs, her brash exterior dropping away to reveal the concern underneath. “Alright, alright. Get some sleep then. Love you.”

She drops a kiss on my head before slipping out.

Alone again, I trudge to my bedroom and flop onto the rumpled sheets. I toss and turn for hours, my mind a battleground.

Did I make a huge mistake ending things with DJ and Tyler? Am I an idiot for choosing work over a shot at real happiness?

Paul’s mocking voice slithers through my brain. “You’ll never be good enough, Syd. Not for them, not for your patients. You’re going to screw it all up like always.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block him out. I picture Jason, Tomas. I’m helping them heal. That has to mean something, right?

But Paul’s sinister whisper persists. “Who are you fooling? You can barely handle your own issues. How long until you crash and burn?”

The tears finally break free, soaking my pillow as I curl into myself. The harder I try to be strong, to do the right thing, the more I feel like I’m losing everything.

I’m terrified that Paul was right. That no matter what I do, I’m going to end up broken and alone, a failure at my job and at love.

God, I wish I could silence the doubts and fears. I wish I knew what the hell I’m doing.

I wish...I wish I was back in DJ and Tyler’s arms, even just for a moment of peace.

But I made my choice. No matter how much it hurts, I have to see it through. For my patients. For myself.

Even if it means facing the demons in my head alone.

CHAPTER 37

TYLER

The break-up voicemail from Sydney has been on a loop in my head for the past two days, like a terrible jingle that just keeps repeating itself. I’ve tried calling her, texting. But no response.

DJ and I caught up on the phone last night about it and he told me he went to see her in her office and she gave him the full-on professional treatment.

So brutal. She must be hurting so much—but just not letting us in.

My mind snaps back to what I’m doing as Carlos, one of our trainers, steps back over to my mat. Damn, I’ve been doing that a lot—zoning out, losing track of what I’m doing. Bad sign for tonight’s game.

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