Page 102 of That's Too Pucking Bad

What the hell do I do with that?

Practice is over, and I’m fucking beat. Not because I pushed myself hard but because my head’s been a wreck all day.

I toss my bag over my shoulder, heading for my car. My mind’s everywhere except where it should be— Remy, her stupid smile, her stupid laugh, and those stupid words she said that won’t leave me the hell alone.

“Zane!”

Her voice stops me dead.

I turn, and there she is. Remy, standing there like she doesn’t own every thought I’ve had in the last 24 hours.

She’s wearing some loose sweatshirt that’s slipping off one shoulder and those tiny-ass shorts that show off her legs. Her glasses are perched on her forehead like she forgot she put them there. Her hair’s up, messy like she didn’t bother trying to fix it, but of course, she still looks like a fucking dream.

“Hey,” she says, smiling.

“Hey.”

Before I can blink, she’s throwing her arms around me, hugging me tight.

And it wrecks me. Right there in the parking lot, with everyone still around.

I hug her back, but it’s cautious. My hands stay on her back like I’m afraid if I touch her any more than that, I’ll shatter.

“How was class?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Ugh.” She pulls back, but her hands linger on my arms. “We had a pop test. Completely unprepared and hungover, thanks to you.”

I snort. “You blaming me?”

“Absolutely,” she says, grinning. “But I think I nailed it anyway. I’m so smart, even half-dead.”

“Good.” I nod. “That’s good.”

Her smile falters, and she tilts her head, looking up at me. “You okay?”

I want to say yes. I want to brush it off, but the truth is, I’m not. Not even close.

“I’ve gotta head to the brotherhood. You know, the Reapers,” I say instead, my voice tight. “Something came up. Can I see you at the game?”

“Of course.”

Her smile’s back, softer now, and I hate how much it guts me.

“Okay.” I lean in and kiss her cheek, quick and light, before I lose my nerve.

“Zane—”

“I’ll see you there,” I say, already turning away.

By the time I get home, I’m nauseous.

This was supposed to be fun. Just something to blow off steam, something I could control. But now?

Now it’s not just fun. Now she’s in my head, in my chest, and I can’t fucking stand it.

So I throw myself into practice.

“Caleb!” I bark the next morning, already on the ice before anyone else.

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