Page 65 of Puck Prince

Two, Spencer works in the hockey industry. I might be able to wrangle banning him from the arena if my uncle wasn’t the only person in the building who knows what happened with Spencer. And even he doesn’t know thefullfull story.

No one does.

Three, Owen and I aren’t actually dating. We’ve hardly spoken in weeks. The fistfight-slash-big screen kiss was the first physical contact we’ve had in a while, and I don’t think protecting me from psycho exes is in the fake relationship fine print of our contract.

“If you’re worried, file a restraining order against him.” Kennedy side-hugs me. “But no one is going to let anything happen to you.”

I want to believe her. I really do.

But the last time I was that naive, I thought getting involved with a hockey player would be “no big deal.” I ended up in a cat and mouse game that nearly ended my career and left me sleeping with one eye open.

I know better now.

“After the way Owen defended you at the game,” she goes on, “I doubt someone could do so much as wink at you without getting their lights knocked out.”

I offer a small smile, hoping it’s convincing. Because if I had arealboyfriend, I’d be less worried. If I was in arealrelationship, I might be able to fool myself into thinking that would be enough to make Spencer stay the hell away.

But this thing with Owen isn’t real. I don’t think he even likes me.

I want to tell Kennedy the truth about that, but once I unravel that thread, the whole deceptive sweater will come undone.

So I can’t. No one can know.

It’s enough to bring tears to my eyes.

Just then, we hear keys rustling in the hallway. Kennedy jumps up with a grin, oblivious to the way I’m teetering on the edge of a breakdown. I wipe the tears away just before she grabs my hands and yanks me off the couch.

“Sounds like someone is home.”

“Who?”

“Your boyfriend, duh! Girl, stop worrying about Spencer and go see Owen. He’ll make you feel better.”

Doubtful. Very, incredibly doubtful.

“I don’t think—I mean, he just got home and—” But she pulls me over to the door and rips it open. “I doubt he wants to see… me.”

The last word falls on the floor…

Right at Owen’s feet.

He stops unlocking his door and turns to look at me.

“Someone is happy you’re home!” Kennedy beams, shoving me into the hallway. She promptly slams the door closed so fast it smacks me in the ass, knocking me forward. I fall against Owen and his arm instinctually wraps around me.

It really is a notably good arm.

“Oh,” he breathes. “Hi.”

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

I pull back, my face flaming. “Don’t mind Kennedy. She’s just—” We both hear her lock the door behind me. “—crazy.”

“I heard that!” she says through the door.

“She’s also nosy,” he grumbles.

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