Page 61 of Puck Princess

It’s one thing for Spencer to come for me, but why would he go after Owen? Has heseenOwen? Unless he has a secret wish to be snapped in half and origamied into a carry-on sized version of himself, he should steer clear and keep his head down.

Then again, flying under the radar has never been Spencer’s MO.

During the restless flight, I decide this must be my fault somehow. I flirted with Owen in the training room in front of Spencer. I’m the reason Owen was late to the arena this morning. Maybe ifIkeep my head down, Spencer will forget I exist and find someone else to torment.

So, that’s my plan.

Once we touch down, we have to go straight back to the arena. The guys have a meeting, and I have paperwork to catch up on.Owen and I ride together, neither of us saying much. It feels a little off, but I also know we’re both exhausted, so I blame it on that for now.

In the lobby, Owen bends for a quick kiss before he slips his hands in his pockets and follows the slow stream of players to the locker room.

I’m on my way to my office when I see Kennedy standing against the closed coffee bar in the lobby.

I frown at her. “What are you doing here?”

It’s not that I’m not happy to see her; it’s just that she rarely ever comes to the arena. She says she gets enough hockey in her life as it is without seeking out more.

Kennedy opens her mouth to say something before she slams it shut. I follow her wide-eyed gaze over my shoulder. Spencer is headed right for us.

I don’t know if he recognizes Kennedy from that night at Pour Boys or if he always has that predatorial gleam in his eyes, but I am not dealing with him right now. I grab Kennedy’s arm and yank her down the short hall to my office, snapping the door closed behind me.

“God, he really is a creep.” She shudders and makes a half-assed attempt at warding herself with what could be the sign of the cross, but could also be “The Macarena.”

“What are you doing here?” I ask again.

“I’ve been worried about you. You’ve been ignoring my texts?—”

“I answered some of them, but there were a lot, and I was busy.”

“—and I knew you were going to be in close quarters with Spencer and Owen, and I wasn’t sure if you were alive or if they were alive or if you killed both of them or what.”

“Everything is fine,” I sigh, plopping down in my chair.

Kennedy arches a brow. “Let’s skip this back and forth dance where I ask if you’re sure and you lie and then I shake you until the truth comes spilling out. I don’t have the energy for it. Just tell me what happened.”

I groan, dropping my face into my hands. “Owen and Spencer were at each other’s throats the entire time. Spencer pulled some weird stunt, Owen caused a scene— It was a shitshow, and now Owen thinks your dad might strip him of being captain and that Spencer is gunning for the job.”

“What? Dad would never do that. Spencer is a rookie. And a slug in human form.”

“I mean, I obviously agree, but he is a good hockey player. And there’s something to the Santos name. People think he’s the next big thing. He’s good at manipulating people. Glitter in the air, I guess.”

“Yeah,” she mumbles, shifting nervously against the wall. “Did you tell my dad what’s really going on? He wouldn’t even allow him on the team if he knew what he did to you.”

“No.”

“Okay, well did you at least tell Owen so he knows why Spencer is being such a worm?”

I bite my bottom lip. “No.”

“Callie! We talked about this!”

“I know!” I melt down into my office chair. “But it’s not that easy.”

“This isn’t going to just go away.”

“Are you sure?” I ask with a hopeful wince. When she levels me with another death glare, I groan. “I feel like if we can just finish out the season?—”

“That’s not going to help and you know it,” she cuts me off.

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