Page 20 of Puck My Heart

Sol glared at me, thick arms folded across his chest. “I’ll hold off the punches to your pretty boy face because I know you have a media shoot in three days and it’ll be too hard to explain. So talkfast, and I’ll decide how much this will hurt you next week at training.”

His threat rolled over me. I’d faced far worse on the ice from a full team coming at me during some of our earlier games before we figured our shit out, but it wasn’t the pain that hurt.

I kept an eye on Anya from the shelter of a tree just behind her car where she couldn’t see me, my keys in my hand in case she really did take off down the hill, and I lost her, too. The thought of her driving in this weather, no snow chains, upset and not thinking straight—I knew how bad that road in these conditions could be. I might have lost her for now, but I wasn’t ready to give up on us just yet.

And if she got hurt because I screwed up…

When she made her way into the house, Sol was waiting for both of us. I gave them the time they needed, him checking her over, making sure she was okay. That she carried the box I left for her in her palm up the stairs to my old room sent my chest panging with a fraction of hope, though I didn’t want to bank on that right now.

Anya had been hurt enough, and I’d just doubled down on what she had experienced when I wasn’t there for her like I should have been. Like she expected me to be there for her.

Why didn’t I know?

Short answer: I’d been too involved with my own damn career to see what was right in front of me, if only I had looked. And right now, the person in front of me was my best friend who appeared ready to tear some random internal organ out of me through an existing orifice—or maybe a new one. Not that I blamed him.

“Save it,” I said shortly. “It’s Anya I’m worried about. I should have told you as soon as you walked in?—”

“Fucking right.”

“—but I didn’t. I worried what you’d say in front of her and I didn’t want to fuck up our relationship until I could take a breath and figure it all out. Yes, it was the wrong way to do it. I know that. And I’m sorry. Not for falling for her—” I sent him a warning look, “—but for not saying it straight up.”

He nodded. “You fucked up. All right. Not forgiven, but we’ll get to it. Talk to me about Benny and Tabitha.”

I started at the change of subject. “How much detail did Coach go into, huh?”

I’d told him off the record the moment I walked out of the hospital because I needed to tellsomeone.But I’d also kept the details scant, knowing Coach and legal would have my ass if information leaked. Not that Sol would tell anyone, which was why I confided in him in the first place. Why he was my best friend. The pitfall of not telling him about Anya slapped me in the face like a cleanly hit puck fresh off the ice.

Sol waited for me to catch up with the program in my own time. “Coach made a group chat. One sided, ifchatis the right word when no one else can reply. But yeah, he got word out. I want to hear what you saw.”

My eyes narrowed. Sol said nothing that wasn’t related to anything else. “Benny hurt her bad, inside and out.” I didn’t want to go into graphic detail right now. My stomach couldn’t take that description, and Tabitha deserved some dignity that remained. Her privacy, as requested. “He’s been arrested, and he’ll be charged. No doubt. I did media, Coach did media, but we’ll deal. It’s not us that I’m worried about. It’s her. She wants nothing to do with any of us, which is fair. We’ll be lucky if the club isn’t sued, if I’m honest.”

“You don’t think she will?”

I shrugged. “It’s her right. What she wants is her privacy as she heals and never to see any of us ever again. I—” I hesitated,swallowed. “I don’t want to have done that to another girl after I saw the damage one of us did already. Not one I love.”

“You do, huh?” Sol stared me down.

“I do what?”

“Love my sister.”

I stared back at him. “Yeah, of course I fucking well love her. I wouldn’t be this cut up over her if I didn’t. I walked back in here after years away and found her alone, pretty as the day I lost my brother and my parents, all the things I’ve wanted in one sassy little bundle and never got to tell her—” My throat closed again.

Sol clapped a hand on my shoulder in a slap that ricocheted around the room. I should have felt the sting, but somehow that one passed me by. “So go tell her. She’s been hurt enough.”

“You’re all right with this?” I rolled the shoulder, waiting for the pain that didn’t come. It felt lighter.

“Was waiting for you to figure yourself out, Cap,” he muttered. “I’ll deal with Hallie. Don’t come into the kitchen for a while. She has a thing for avocado. So do I, now.”

I winced. “Wipe down the surfaces when you’re done. Anyone else turning up this weekend?” I spoke to his back as he sauntered to the door.

Sol didn’t stop walking, and he didn’t turn back. “You still don’t get it, do you? This weekend was all about her. And you. Happy Valentine’s Day, pucker.”

My twisted mess of a heart still felt lighter as I took the stairs two at a time. This time, I stopped at Anya’s bedroom door, and knocked.

“Come in.” Like before, her usually bright voice was muted.

I pushed open the door, steeling myself for her rejection, though Sol’s acceptance both offered relief and confused the fuck out of me. I had expected him to be furious—and rightfully so—but his reaction was unexpected. The thought he’d set us up irritated me at some other level, but I’d deal with that faux pas another training day.

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