Page 62 of Pucking Only

We fall into a comfortable silence for several moments before she lowers her voice to a conspiratorial whisper and asks, “Guess what?”

“What?”

“I got Stacey in touch with the team’s physical therapist. She’s got an interview next week for her internship.”

“That’s amazing!” I say. “You know when people say, ‘I know a guy?’ You are officially that guy.”

Grace winks at me. “Play your cards right, and I’ll hook you up with some Devil’s lettuce and courtside seats for the Nuggets.”

I snort, cake nearly coming out of my nose. We talk for a bit longer, but as we do, I become painfully aware of Carson. He’s here, standing at the far end of the room, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He hasn’t said a word to me and has been keeping his distance since I walked in. It’s like there’s this wall between us that I can’t break through.

It stings, more than I want to admit. Part of me wonders if he’s avoiding me because I leave tomorrow and have been so busy with my game that I haven’t spent as much time with him the last few days.

Maybe I’ve been avoiding him because it’s too hard to say goodbye. I quickly shake my head, banishing the thought away. I try not to let it get to me, focusing instead on the team, on Grace, on everything that’s happening around me. But the ache in my chest lingers, making me wonder if leaving Denver is going to feel more final than I expected.

That night Grace and Jensen insist on taking me out to a fancy restaurant for dinner. They invite Carson to come along as well. The restaurant is sleek and modern, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Denver skyline.

It’s the kind of place where you’d expect to see businessdinners or anniversary celebrations — fancy enough to make me feel slightly out of place, but not so extravagant that it feels uncomfortable. Grace and I are wearing dresses — I had to borrow mine from her — and the guys are in dress pants and button-down shirts. Not super fancy, but I’d definitely be underdressed in my usual jeans and t-shirt.

The lighting is warm and soft, casting a golden glow over the polished wood tables and leather chairs. The walls are adorned with abstract art, adding a splash of color in the otherwise minimalist decor. We’re seated near a window, giving us the perfect view, but I can’t fully appreciate it. My focus keeps drifting to Carson, who’s sitting across from me but feels miles away. He’s been quiet all evening, distant even. It's unsettling.

The restaurant should feel intimate, like a nice send-off before I leave, but instead, there’s this awkward tension hanging between us that I can’t quite shake. I sip my wine, the rich taste barely registering as I try to make sense of his odd behavior. The evening’s supposed to be a celebration, but something feels off, and it’s hard to enjoy the ambiance when I’m on edge, wondering what’s going on with him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: SAY GOODNIGHT

SKYLER

The restaurant is buzzingwith the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses. I can’t focus on any of it. My mind is too busy replaying the entire day in slow motion, searching for some clue as to why Carson is acting so strange.

Grace and Jensen are their usual selves. They are sitting close together, Jensen has his arm around her shoulders, keeping the conversation light and fun. But Carson… Carson continues to be distant. Detached. He’s barely looked at me all night, and when he does, it’s like he’s a million miles away. I’m trying to ignore it. I want to enjoy what’s supposed to be my last night in Denver with my friends, but it’s hard to ignore the knot forming in my stomach.

The waiter has just cleared our appetizer plates when Grace leans forward, her eyes sparkling.

"So, Skyler," she says, her tone teasing, "are you excited to head back to California, or are you secretly planning on missing us?"

I chuckle, trying to play it off even though my stomach clenches at the thought of leaving.

"Maybe a little of both," I say, forcing a smile. I glance atCarson, hoping for some kind of reaction, but he’s staring at his whiskey, swirling the amber liquid slowly in his glass. His silence is unnerving.

Grace doesn’t let up. "Oh, come on, we both know you’re going to miss us alot." She nudges Carson playfully with her elbow. "Right, Carson? California may have better weather, but you can’t beat the company here in Denver."

Carson looks up, giving a half-smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

"Yeah, maybe," he mutters, barely above a mumble. His tone is flat, detached, and it makes my heart sink.

I swallow hard, trying to keep things light.

"You know I’ll miss you guys," I say, turning my attention back to Grace, I can’t help but feel the tension radiating from Carson. "But I’ve got a lot of work to do back home. It’s been… crazy."

Jensen, sitting next to Grace, joins in. "You’ve been killing it with that new game, though, right? Grace was telling me all about it."

I nod, grateful for the shift in conversation. "Yeah, it’s coming along. I’m excited to get it finished, but it’s been pretty intense." I pause, glancing at Carson again, hoping for some kind of response, anything to show he’s still engaged…but he’s back to staring into his drink.

Grace furrows her brow, noticing his odd behavior too. "Carson, what’s with you tonight? You’re quieter than usual." She says it with a laugh, trying to ease the tension, but it only makes me more anxious.

He straightens up, shaking his head slightly. "Nah, I’m fine. Just a lot on my mind."

The words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. I feel my chest tighten. It’s like he’s already putting distancebetween us, and I don’t understand why. Grace doesn’t press further, but the unease lingers.

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