Page 80 of Pucking Amazing

I take a fortifying breath. “I’m kind of...seeing two guys on the team. Together. And they’re also seeing each other.” I peek over at her, bracing for her reaction.

Selena blinks for a moment, processing. Then she throws her head back and laughs, loud and uninhibited.

“You’re in a throuple? Oh my god, Syd, that’s the last thing I ever thought you’d say! What is it about that team and polyamory!?”

Selena’s laughter slowly subsides as she fixes me with a genuine smile.

“Seriously though, I’m so happy for you,” she says. “It’s about damn time you let yourself have some fun after everything you’ve been through. If getting sandwiched between two hunky hockey players is what puts that spring in your step, then you do you, boo!”

I flush crimson, nearly choking on my coffee.

“Selena!” I sputter. “It’s not just about the sex. I mean, don’t get me wrong, that part is…unreal. But DJ and Tyler...they’re amazing guys, inside and out.”

I fiddle with my mug, a soft smile playing on my lips as I think about how attentive and caring they’ve been, both as friends and now as lovers.

“They make me feel special. Safe. Like I can finally be myself again after walking on eggshells for so long with Paul.”

Selena reaches across the table to squeeze my hand, her expression sobering. “Oh honey, I’m so glad to hear that. You deserve to be treated like a queen after putting up with that asshole’s crap.” Her gaze grows pointed and protective.

“I know I do.” I squeeze her hand back, feeling a surge of gratitude for my ride-or-die sister. “And you know what? I think I’m finally starting to believe that myself.”

Selena grins, her eyes twinkling with mischief once more. “Atta girl! Embrace your inner goddess.”

She’s still chuckling as I head out the door for work. I shake my head, her unwavering support only widening the smile on my face.

For the first time in a long time…I’m happy.

My day starts off like any other—I have a great session with Jason, who is all smiles lately. Then one of the team members shows up unplanned to talk through his stress and learn some new coping strategies.

After lunch, though, I drum my fingers on my desk, glancing at the clock for the hundredth time in five minutes.

Mikey is late for our session, a disturbing reminder of our early days. I’ve been sitting here for 20 minutes already and—I check again—there’s no email from him, nothing to say that he’s on his way or even that he won’t be able to make the appointment.

Just as I’m about to send him a text, he barrels through the door, disheveled and scowling.

“Nice of you to join me, finally,” I say evenly, taking in his bloodshot eyes and rumpled clothes. It can’t be…is he using right now?

He slumps into the chair across from me, mouth twisting into a sneer. “Don’t give me that condescending therapy bullshit, Sydney. I know what you really are.”

My stomach clenches. I force myself to meet his glare head-on. “And what is that, exactly?”

“A slut who spreads her legs for any pro athlete who looks her way. God, I can’t believe I ever took you seriously as a counselor. What a joke.”

His words slice through me like razors.

I grip the edge of my desk, knuckles turning white, willing myself not to flinch. How dare he speak to me this way, belittle my credentials, my profession, everything I’ve worked for?

Tears prick the back of my eyes but I blink them back furiously.

“Mikey, you’re out of line.” My voice wavers and I curse myself for it. “If you’re not here for a productive session, then?—”

“Oh, I bet you want to be real productive, huh? Get on your knees and suck my?—”

“Get out!” The words burst out of me, my whole body shaking with rage and humiliation. “Get the hell out of my office, now!”

Mikey shoots to his feet, kicking over the chair as he does. “With fucking pleasure. Have fun whoring yourself out, bitch.”

The door slams behind him like a gunshot. I sink back in my chair, burying my face in trembling hands.

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