Page 2 of Puck & Make Up

Keep making my waythroughthe trees, to the spot I need to check.

Because there’s another reason I’m on this side of town, another reason I’m well away from my apartment in downtown River’s Bend.

An apartment I just broke my lease on because I’m going to the Grizzlies.

Finally, I’m getting a contract.

Finally, I’m going to consistently play at the highest level of hockey possible.

Just…not tonight.

TonightI’m dealing with acid-filled eyes and spoons made for gouging and a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that has nothing to do with walking in on my friends fucking.

With handcuffs.

Another shudder.

“Focus,” I mutter, even though I don’t want to, even though I’ve been avoiding thinking about this shit for far too fucking long—not wanting to admit what has been right in front of me…

Even though it’s beenright in front of me.

And then, last week, I confirmed it.

But I couldn’t do anything about it—not with all the shit swirling through River’s Bend, not with my friends finally having a moment of peace.

Not with…

Dessie being Dessie.

She’s beautiful and stubborn and I want nothing more than for her to be mine…

And she hates me.

I curse under my breath, knowing this is all a nightmare that’s going to blow up on me, doing more damage than acid and dull spoons.

But still, I don’t stop walking.

Don’t stop moving to the spot the note had indicated I come to.

It had been slipped under the windshield wiper of my car when I was parked outside Monroe’s, so the intelligence of me following that written order by an unknown person was…well, debatable.

“Probably going to get murdered out here,” I mutter as I move along the trail. “Or the guys are waiting around the corner, ready to prank me.”

Only…I know it’s neither of those.

Because when I round the corner of the trail, eyes having long adjusted to the dark, I can easily see the person silhouetted against the moonlight in the small clearing.

A clearing I vaguely remember.

From decades before.

The person on the other side of it turns, and I feel that same gut punch as I experienced the first time I saw her in town when I was traded to the Rush a few seasons back.

Only this blow is more powerful.

I knew forcertainnow.

Before it had been an odd familiarity.

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