Page 40 of Puck Princess

I expect his jaw to tense. I expect him to come after me. But after a long moment where I don’t take a single breath, Spencer blinks. And then he smiles.

“I’ll tell you what—” He turns away, walking a few feet in the opposite direction, finally giving me room to breathe. “I’m going to let that slide because I think we should be friends.”

“I don’t want to be your friend.”

“No?” He looks back over his shoulder.

“No.”

Spencer whips around and closes the space between us, backing me into the wall.

My heart lurches into my throat, and all the walls I built up to hide from him come falling down. I’m shaking as he leans in closer.

“I don’t care what you want,” he growls. “Because you’re not calling the shots. We’re going to get along. You’re going to be myfriend.Who knows? Maybe we can explore a few benefits. I liked the benefits we had last time.” His hand strokes over my shoulder, and I want to shred my skin off to get away from him. “Your coach loves me. The team will learn to love me. And you and your boy toy will learn your place, too. Do you understand?”

He stares at me, waiting for an answer.

There’s only one that will make this end.

There’s only one answer that lets me leave this room in one piece.

So, I nod.

With that, he backs away and walks out.

But I stay plastered to the wall long after he’s gone.

When I do finally move, it’s to slide, shaking, to the floor.

14

CALLIE

“It’s the same fucking guy!”

I don’t even get a greeting out before Kennedy is streaming through the phone, her voice echoing off the tile walls of the arena bathroom.

I wouldn’t usually take a call while using the restroom, but it’s Kennedy. She’s burst in on me in the bathroom enough times that our shame meter is nonexistent. Plus, I’m always in the bathroom these days. The first trimester, it was to throw up. Now that I’m in the second, I can’t even look at a glass of water without needing to pee.

“Who is the same what? Where?” She might have shattered my eardrum because I don’t actually know what she said.

“The guy on the Scythes social media page. From the video. He’s the same!”

“The same as who?”

My failure to understand her shrieks might also be from exhaustion. I haven’t slept well the last few nights. Owen finallycoaxed me back over to his bed, but he was out late one night at some kind of college tournament, scouting out future talent. Another night, there was a fundraiser. I was supposed to go as Owen’s date, but the thought of spending an evening in the same room as Spencer after barely managing to dodge him at the arena all day didn’t sound appealing. I claimed I was nauseous and stayed in Owen’s bed. I was asleep by the time he got home.

And this morning, I was roped into being emergency triage for an ice skating lesson gone wrong. The Scythes rent out the rink when they aren’t using it, but three-year-olds on ice skates should be illegal. I bandaged so many chubby shins and dimpled elbows this morning that my eyes were starting to cross.

This bathroom break was the only two seconds I’ve had to myself all day, and now Kennedy is on the other end of the phone having an aneurysm about some guy.

“The guy I was dancing with that night at Pour Boys! It’s Spencer!”

I drop my face, pinching the bridge of my nose with a sigh.

Oh, right.Thatguy.

“He’s on the team, Callie!” she continues, somehow getting even louder. “He’s the new winger!”

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