Page 41 of Puck Right Off

“Yeah. Why?” She eyes him suspiciously.

“Hi. I’m Bryce Gardner.” He sticks his hand out and she stares at it for a moment before he continues. “You’re an English Lit tutor, right? I’m struggling with that class, and Professor Martin suggested I talk to you about tutoring.”

A smile splits her face as she grasps his outstretched hand. “Oh, yes. I offer tutoring for his class.” As she animatedly launches into the specifics of tutoring and explains how to schedule an appointment, my fury mounts. I don’t fucking like this one goddamn bit. I know Bryce is up to something, but I haven’t figured out what.

When their conversation finally ends, Bryce gives her a big smile. “I’ll be in touch soon, Jordyn.” He looks up at me, a challenging look in his eyes that makes me want to kick his ass. But I can’t do a goddamn thing in front of her stepfather and stepbrother.

“Jordyn. Come here a second.” Robert beckons her over.

She blows out a breath, panic on her face when her eyes dart to mine. “Gotta go. The asshole beckons.” Grimacing, she hurries away before I can say another word.

It’sthirty minutes until the puck drops, and the people are filling the arena. As I skate around the rink, I wave to a few people screaming my name, holding signs above their heads, and wearing my jersey.

My attention moves to the player-reserved seating section. Jordyn sits in the middle, with Chelsea on her right and her mom on her left. She’s laughing at something Chelsea said. When her head turns toward me, her smile dims before she smirks. She makes a point of standing up, and my heart skips a beat when I see she’s wearing a jersey. She turns as I get closer, offering me a clear view.

What the actual fuck. My body vibrates with rage, and I jerk to a stop in front of the glass, sending shavings of ice flying around me. I’m so fucking pissed that I want to slam my customized hockey stick over my knee, breaking it in halfbefore stomping over to her, yanking that jersey off her, and turning her over my knee.

She’s fucking wearing Gardner’s jersey.

Rage causes me to shake.She’ll pay for this stunt.

I slam my hand against the glass, causing her to jump. I gesture with my fingers for her to come closer.

A smug smile is plastered on her face as she adds an extra swagger to her hips, taking her time moving toward me. The number 27 andhisname mocks me as she stops in front of the glass.

“Walk over to the back of the rink.” I gesture to the location with my hand, my furious gaze never leaving hers. “Now.” Then I skate away, heading in the direction I told her to go.

Jordyn stares at me for a couple of beats, her brows furrowed. She looks over her shoulder at Chelsea, shrugging, before she heads toward the last bend in the rink where I told her to go.

I’m practically climbing out of my skin from the irritation coursing through me when she finally arrives. I point to the steel handle on the board. “Turn it. It swings toward you.”

The second I hear the lock click, I barrel through the door, not giving her a chance to move. My body towers over hers, and the height distance is more noticeable with my skates on. She cranes her neck, blinking in surprise as I get in her space.

Ripping my helmet and gloves off, I throw them on the floor. “Take that fucking jersey off. Now.” My eyes drop to the offending jersey, wishing I could light it on fire and hold it up in front of her face so she could watch it burn.

“What? Who the hell do you think you are?”

Something inside me breaks. I can’t take this distance between us.

I know I’m fucked up. A broken shell of who I once was. But dammit, I want to be a better man for her. I can be a helluva lot better than what I’ve been.

My hand cups her face, my thumb stroking her cheek. “I’m a broken man who doesn’t deserve you. A man who fucked up, acting like an asshole and pushing you away. I led you to believe I was interested in what Josh was saying about Janelle when I don’t give a fuck about her.”

Encouraged by the softness in her eyes, I continue. “Since the day we met, you’re all I see. There’s onlyyou, Jordyn. And I’m scared as hell because I know what it’s like to lose those you love the most.” My mouth is dry, and there’s a giant lump in my throat. But I keep going, my voice cracking with emotion. “My parents and sister died in a tragic accident, and it fucked me up. My entire world imploded, and I haven’t been the same since.” My body overheats, sweat streaking down my back as I try to get this out before she walks away. “I shut down, not letting anyone in until you. I’ve built walls around my heart, but you knocked them down and climbed inside.”

Tears shimmer in her eyes. “Tristan.” She breathes my name like a reverent whisper. “I’m so sorry about your family.”

I give her a shaky smile. “I can see it in your eyes. I hate the pain there. I’ve caused you so much the past few days. All because I’m a fucking coward who let his fears take over.” I bow my head, shame washing over me.

Her soft hand moves to my chin. “Tristan, look at me.”

I comply with her request, letting her see me. Raw and unfiltered. I’m not the hot-shot hockey player, the son of a legend, or the driven student who works his ass off academically and on the ice. I’m simply me. A damaged soul.

“I think your heart is fractured, like broken pieces of glass, but you can be repaired. You’re not broken beyond repair.”

My breath comes out in a rush. I’m shocked she can see what no one else can. Her words cause my sluggish heart to pound faster, giving me hope.

“I’m glad you told me. I wish you would’ve done it sooner, but the important thing is, you opened up to me.” She takes a step closer, our bodies nearly touching. “We have a lot to work through, but I’m willing to listen.”

---