Page 68 of Puck Block

“Eager much?” Emory snorts. He rolls his eyes and pushes his cards into the middle of the table. The poker game technically isn’t over, but our little pre-game ritual is starting to become nonexistent now that Aasher is constantly rushing over to the apartment next door to hang out with the coach’s daughter, leaving the rest of the guys to their own devices.

“You going home?” Emory asks after standing up and helping Berkley and Efrain pick up the poker chips.

“You better be," Efrain adds. “Tomorrow’s game is going to be challenging.”

He’s right. Which is all the more reason I’m pissed at Taytum for deciding that tonight was the perfect night to go on a fucking date with some guy I don’t know.

I glance at the clock, and my blood runs hot. I told her I’d give her until 8:30 to send me that bio and photo she promised, or I was going to open her location and pull the stalker act.

I may do that anyway, depending on who she’s with.

“You talk to Tay?” Emory throws on his coat as he flips through his phone.

If I was a total dick, I’d tell him no. That way, he can interrupt her plans before they even start, but things have become testy between us. Taytum can throw me under the bus just as quickly as I can her. “I think she’s studying tonight.” It’s not technically a lie, because she was studying earlier. “There’s not much going on around campus anyway. You know how it is the night before a hockey game.”

It’s unsettling that I don’t even feel a blip of guilt from hiding something from him.

“True. Alright, I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

As soon as the door shuts, I immediately pull out my phone.

She’s got three fucking minutes.

Berkley clears his throat, and I quickly glance at him. “I’m leaving, I'm leaving,” I say, throwing up my hands. “Relax.”

He chuckles. “He’s going to fucking murder you if he finds out that you’re fucking his sister.”

My head snaps up so quickly from my phone that the room spins. “What the hell are you talking about? I am not fucking Tay.”

“But he wants to!” Efrain shouts from down the hall.

“We all want to,” Berkley jokes.

I glare at him, and he laughs harder. “Look at you, all crazed over the thought of it.”

“That’s nothing new! Taytum is like a sister to me. Of course I don’t want her with any of you fuckboys.”

A sister. Yeah fucking right.I’ve never thought of her as my sister. Ever.

Efrain slides down the hall in his socks. “Who are you calling a fuckboy?”

I know they’re kidding, and I need to lighten up if I want to keep up my charade of acting normal, but when my phone vibrates, I almost drop it before opening the message.

Absolutely not.

My fingers pound against the screen.

So, what’s his name? Grandpa?

I pull my hoodie on and rush for the door. “Later, fuckboys.”

I’m safely tucked away in my car before I zoom in on the photo of Taytum. I scan the background and know right away that she’s at the only pizzeria in town that offers a cauliflower pizza crust–which is her new go-to to help control her sugars.

Her text comes in over the speakers of my car when I’m pulling out of campus.

Patricia, my car’s robot voice, says, “Actually, I prefer to call him Daddy.”

I mute the speakers before muttering, “Shut the fuck up, Patty.”

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