Page 6 of Puck Prince

“I’ve rescued enough damsels,” I mutter to my empty living room.

I take my phone with me to the kitchen, grabbing another beer from the fridge. I pop the cap on the bottle opener hanging on the wall. It’s one of those ones where the cap falls through a maze of nails, Plinko style, before landing in a column at the bottom. This one says,Drink.

Don’t mind if I do. I take a long pull from the bottle just as my phone begins to vibrate.

“‘Sup?” I ask after swallowing.

My best friend Lance’s voice fills the room. “Yo, brother! Where you at?” He is practically yelling and, from the way his words are running together like cursive, he’s well past buzzed and on his way to straight up hammered.

“I think I should be asking you that.” I round the counter back to the couch. My eyes scan the balcony. She hasn’t moved.

“I’m at Red Light. You coming out? It’s gonna be a good night!”

I sigh, rubbing my chin. “I don’t think so.”

“What? Why the fuck not?” He’s shouting over the club music, and I turn the volume on my phone down.

“Not feeling it tonight. You got the boys with you? You know we have to be on the ice at 7:00 A.M., right?”

“Yes, Dad, I know.” The cacophony of bass beats and voices is dying a little, replaced by car horns and sirens. He’s outside now. Thankfully, it’s a little quieter. “Life is supposed to be fun. Weekends are supposed to be fun. Hockey is supposed to be fun.”

I lean back with a sigh. “Itwasfun.”

“‘Was’? Owen, listen to yourself. You sound like fuckin’ Eeyore.”

“I know. I get it. But life is… complicated now.” I don’t want to talk about the shitshow that’s overtaken my life—overtaken my apartment—in the last few months.

Most people don’t know a thing about any of it. Can’t know. But Lance is my best friend.

“Gotta stop being the white knight all the time, brother. Good deeds don’t cover the past and the past ain’t your fault, you feel me?”

I feel him. I feel him too much. Lance is a solid guy, but he gets real soft and fluffy when he’s saturated with tequila. “Yeah, well. It is what it is.”

“You got me. You got the team. Can’t forget about them.”

But I am on a rollercoaster slowly spiraling downward. “Miles is leaving.”

“Not yet.”

“He’s retiring. He’s not even thirty.”

“Again, not yet. And we still have Lachlan. Heath. Kason and Dax. Who are allhereby the way, so get your ass out and join us! Have some fun, O. You deserve that much at least.”

I have to smile, at least for a moment. I’m almost tempted. But my eyes haven’t left the patio door since I sat down.

“Some other time.” I stand up.

“Fine. Lame ass.”

“Love you, too, Lanny boy. See you tomorrow. Bright and early.”

“Yeah, yeah, kiss my ass.” He burps and I can hear the music getting loud again. I laugh, ending the call. But the laugh quickly melts into a weary sigh. I snap off the TV and tilt my head enough to see out the window.

Sure enough, she’s still shivering on the chair. Still huddled. Still stubborn. She’s even recruited the demonic cat to her lap, presumably for warmth.

I snag a fleece throw blanket off the couch and open the patio door.

3

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