Page 51 of That's Too Pucking Bad

Once I’m cleaned up, he slips me into his jersey, the fabric soft and comforting against my skin. It smells of sweat and him. “Perfect fit,” he says, and I can’t help but blush.

“Is this what you had on during the game?” I ask.

“Nah. That one reeked. I showered and put on a clean one before coming over.”

He cuddles up next to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders, and I lean into him, feeling safe and satisfied. “You okay?” I ask, glancing up at him.

“Now I am,” he says softly, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

I don’t know when I dozed off, but the next thing I know, I’m waking up, the bed cool beside me. I sit up, glancing around the room. “Zane?” I call out, my voice hoarse. No answer.

I rub my eyes, disoriented and still wrapped in his damn jersey, that hangs on me, reminding me of... everything. Where the hell did he go? I look around the room. The sheets are rumpled, pillow dented from where his head was. But now? Nothing. Just me, the fading warmth of where he was, and the ache that’s settling in.

Swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, my feet hit the cold floor. I pull the jersey tighter around me, the smell of him clinging to the fabric, all pine and leather. “God, what did I expect? That he’d actually stay the night?” I scoff at myself, shaking my head.

But... okay, yeah. I wanted him to stay the night.

I sit there for a minute, letting that admission sink in before I get up and head for the bathroom. I flip on the light, squinting at the brightness, and catch sight of myself in the mirror. Messy hair, swollen lips, and that look in my eyes – like I’d just been turned inside out.

I reach for the faucet, twisting it to hot, watching the steam rise. A shower. I need a shower to... wash all of this away. Just as I’m about to step in, something glints on the sink – a silver bracelet, delicate, familiar. Colin.

“Shit.” My voice comes out broken, and it all hits me at once. The reality of tonight – everything I just did with Zane on the very night of my anniversary with Colin. And I betrayed him.

I sink down on the bathroom floor, clutching the bracelet. It’s like the weight of it digs into my skin, mocking me.How could I?Colin, who’s been nothing but good to me, who’s never hurt me, never doubted me. And here I am. The tears come out of nowhere, hot and angry, spilling over as I press my fist to my mouth.

“How could I be so stupid?” I whisper, my voice cracking.

I don’t even know how long I sit there, feeling the shame crawl over me, tightening in my chest. Colin’s face keeps flashing through my mind.

I am a little slut, aren’t I?

Chapter 10

I push open the locker room door, still grinning. The game went down exactly the way I wanted, and seeing our rivals hit the ice wasn’t just satisfying – it was perfect. And to be honest, I am still riding the high of the night I spent in Remy’s bed.

I figured that she would need a few days on her own after that so I have been keeping my distance, which has been hell,but I know if I push her too hard, she’ll spook.

“What’s got you so happy?” Caleb’s voice cuts in, and he steps around, giving me a once-over.

“Nothing,” I say, shrugging, though I know my grin probably says otherwise. I’m not ready to share what’s going on, not with him anyway.

But Caleb narrows his eyes, not buying it. “Come on, then. You’re walking around with that smiling face bruised up and don’t even wanna say?”

The grin drops, and my jaw tightens. “Nah.”

His brows shoot up, and he smirks like he knows something. But I don’t give him anything. Just lean back on the bench as the rest of the guys file in, talking and laughing. The room’s buzzing after a good game– slaps on the back, gloves flying into lockers, sticks clattering to the floor.

Coach marches in, hands on his hips. “All right, solid game tonight. Good work out there.”

There’s a round of cheers, but Coach’s eyes zero in on me, and he points. “Zane, need you to keep it tighter on the ice next time. Less of the body-checking. We’re trying to win, not lose players.”

I nod, though I don’t fully care. The rougher play gets under people’s skin– gets ‘em distracted. That’s the point, even if Coach Jacobs doesn’t see it.

“Got it, Coach,” I say, just to keep him happy. He nods and moves on.

Out on the ice a while later, it’s just us– me, Caleb, Noah, and Declan – passing the puck back and forth. Declan’s working on his slap shots, practically shattering the glass behind the net. Noah snatches the puck off my stick and fires it past me.

“Oh, come on!” I yell, laughing. “Cheap move.”

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