Page 17 of Puck Princess

But he doesn’t. “You know, when I heard that Coach was hiring his niece, I thought it might be a nepo hire, and I looked you up.” He winces. “Not good. For anyone willing to dig deep enough, it was clear that a trail of accusations and broken careers followed you.”

One accusation—that I didn’t even make—and no broken careers. See: Spencer Santos playing for the fucking Scythes. The only thing broken in that situation was me.

But I know I need to play this right.

“Accusations are only a problem for people with something to hide.”

“This is what I’m talking about—difficult.” Miles shoves me against the wall hard enough to knock the wind out of me.

Summer whimpers, but doesn’t say anything. We both know, if one of us leaves, Miles won’t hesitate to hurt the other. There’s nothing he won’t do.

“You almost cost me my job once, and I won’t let it happen again.” He holds out his open hand directly in front of my face. “Give me your phone.”

All I do is smile.

For the first time, his tough facade cracks.

Miles’s eyes widen with what might be real fear. “Where’s your phone?”

I still don’t answer.

Miles grabs me, patting me down and clawing at my clothes to find it.

“Miles, stop!” Summer yells.

I shove him away, but he presses me back into the wall. My mind flashes back to Spencer—to the closet in my office, to the feeling of his hot breath on my skin. But I shut the door on that memory and stay here, now.

Miles bars his forearm across my throat while his other hand scrapes down my body. “I swear to God, I will tear your fucking clothes off if you don’t give me your?—”

“Get your fucking hands off of her!” The voice that comes echoing down the alley floods me with a relief I cannot explain.

I turn with tears in my eyes to see Owen racing towards us, a fury on his face I’ve never seen before.

6

OWEN

Have you talked to Summer?

Are you with her?

I know you’re upset, but please call me.

She’s in trouble. Go to Pour Boys.

Summer is with Miles.

I’m standing outside of Summer’s apartment, facing off with a terrified babysitter who is prepared to whack me over the head with a frying pan for both scaring her and waking Nicky up with all my pounding on the door, when Callie’s texts come through in a rapid fire burst.

I came here to talk to Summer, but she wasn’t answering her phone. Or the door.

Now, I know why.

With a quick apology and a mental note to tell Summer her babysitter is a real keeper, I sprint out to my car and race to Pour Boys just praying a cop doesn’t stop me.

Meanwhile, my mind is also going eighty miles per hour. I don’t know why I never suspected someone on the team of being Summer’s ex. I thought she stopped coming to my games because it would be too rowdy for Nicky. Same with not coming out for drinks anymore. It’s not like she could bring a baby to a bar. But it went deeper than that. She stopped asking me about work entirely. And when it did come up, she’d changed the subject. I assumed it was because she was sick of hearing about my job. Now, it all makes perfect sense.

It’s also why Pour Boys after a hockey game is the last place I would’ve thought to look for Summer. Because of the crowd outside, I have to park blocks down the road. I sprint to the entrance, and the line of people down the block tells me they’re at capacity or close to.

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