Page 112 of That's Too Pucking Bad

He sighs, shaking his head. “Alright, kid. This isn’t going to be easy. And it’s not going to be painless.”

“Great,” I say, leaning back. “Let’s get started.”

Eric pulls out a portable table, setting up quickly. He motions for me to lie down, and I do, gritting my teeth against the pain as I shift positions.

He starts working on the muscle, his hands firm and precise. It hurts like hell, but I bite down, refusing to let him see how bad it is.

“This is going to take time,” he says as he works. “You can’t just expect to bounce back overnight.”

“Time’s not something I have,” I mutter.

He glances at me, his expression softening slightly. “Look, I get it. But you’ve got to listen to me if you want to get through this. Deal?”

“Deal,” I say through gritted teeth.

The session feels like it lasts forever, but when it’s over, the ache has dulled slightly. Eric packs up his things, leaving me with a list of exercises and a warning to take it easy.

I nod, pretending I’ll listen, but as soon as he’s gone, I grab the ice pack and press it to my leg, my mind racing.

I don’t have time for this. I’ve got games to win, scouts to impress, and Remy. I push her face out of my mind, focusing on the pain instead. It’s easier that way.

Chapter 22

I wake up with a jolt, heat spreading across my skin, my breath short. The dream is still vivid in my head— Zane’s hands on me, his mouth everywhere, the way he looked at me like he owned me. It wasn’t just a dream. It was intense. Too real.

I groan, pressing the heels of my hands into my eyes, but it doesn’t help. The ache between my legs is unbearable.

“Goddamn it,” I mutter.

I slide my hand under the sheets, my fingers brushing over myself. I bite my lip, thinking of him. His voice, his body, the way he smells. It doesn’t take long. My hips jerk, and I bite into my pillow to stifle the sound as the tension snaps.

When it’s over, I stare at the ceiling, my legs still shaking.

“Pathetic,” I whisper to myself, throwing the blanket off.

I grab my phone from the nightstand, still half-dazed, and check my messages. Nothing. Not a single reply from Zane.

I sit up, frowning at the screen. I texted him twice yesterday. Once in the morning, just a casualgood luck at practice, and then again last night, asking if he wanted to hang out. Both messages left on read.

The ache in my chest is heavy. Something’s off.

By the time I make it to class, I’m late. The professor glares at me as I slide into a seat in the back, but I ignore it. My head’s too full of Zane.

Why didn’t he answer? Did I say something wrong? Maybe he’s just busy. Practice, games, all that stuff.

Class drags. I try to take notes, but the words don’t stick. As soon as it’s over, I’m out the door, searching for Maya and Caleb.

I find them near the quad, under a tree. Caleb’s got Maya pinned to it, kissing her like it’s his last day on Earth.

“Seriously?” I call out, half laughing, half annoyed.

Maya pulls away, grinning. “Jealous much?”

“No,” I say, crossing my arms. “I just don’t need to see your PDA first thing after class.”

Caleb smirks. “You’re just bitter because Zane’s not here to suck your face.”

“Ha, ha,” I deadpan.

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