Page 54 of Puck Right Off

I marvel at the truth in his words. “He went through hell for two years, battling every day. In my heart, I knew he was going to lose the war.” My voice is flat, and time seems to slow down as I go back to that horrific day. “The day he died, he insisted I go to school. I didn’t want to leave him, but I did.”My eyes stare vacantly at a spot on his comforter. “He looked bad, Tristan. So pale, skinny, and weak. I had this sick feeling inside like I knew he wouldn’t be alive when I came home from school. But after watching him slowly die for two years, I don’t think I could’ve handled watching him take his last breath.”

“Two hours after I arrived at school, I was called to the principal’s office. It felt like I was walking through quicksand when I left the classroom. I walked inside and took one look at the sadness in the secretary’s eyes, and I knew. I heard her say, ‘I’m sorry, but your father—' before I fled. I ran as fast as I could toward home. My mom stopped and picked me up. She’d been on her way to get me….”

Tristan’s breathing increases as he squeezes me tighter, offering his support. I cling to him, my heart aching and my throat raw from swallowing so much, trying to prevent the tears from falling.

“Once inside the house, I held his hand and whispered how much I loved him, even though he was gone. I just felt like he could hear me, you know?”

“I know he did, Jordyn.”

I collapse against him, tears flowing down my cheeks and onto his neck. His strong arms grip me like a life raft in the worst storm. I’m confident he won’t let me drown.

We stay like that for a few minutes, comfortable with the silence between us, words unnecessary. Once the sadness lifts, I finish my story.

“The coroners came and took away his body. All the days after that were dark and bleak. Mom and I were shells of the people we once were. We kept busy with arrangements, but after the funeral, day bled into night, and I had no idea what I did all day other than stare out my window and replay memories of better days.”

The tears start again, coursing down my cheeks. “Thingsnever got better. Mom had to use money from the college fund my parents created so that we could survive. We struggled so much that when I turned sixteen, I worked part-time at a bookstore to help mom pay bills.”

“Sounds like the perfect job for you. Did you consider becoming a librarian then?”

“Not until Cornell. The librarians were so amazing there. They were my inspiration.”

“What about family? Wasn’t there anyone to help you and your mom?”

“My mom’s parents died years ago, and my dad’s parents had disowned him when he married my mom because they thought they were too young. They married while they were in college, and she had me when she was twenty-two. She wrote a few letters and called them, but they didn’t respond. Nor did they come to my dad’s funeral.”

“Oh, God. How cruel.”

“I know. Life can be cruel.” My aqua eyes lock with his green eyes, my insides warming from the sea of devotion swimming in them. “Sometimes it rewards you by sending unexpected people into it that make you forget the pain and strife.”

Tristan’s lips part slightly. His voice is low and husky when he speaks. “Are you referring to me?”

“I am, captain.” My hand cups his face before I plant my lips against his. “You ease my pain. Make me forget all the bad things in my life.”

“Good.” He pulls me so I’m lying on top of him. I begin protesting, but he shuts me up with a kiss. “I want to know everything about you, but right now, I’m desperate to take advantage of the fact that neither Josh nor Chelsea are here.”

“But your ribs….”

“Fuck my ribs.” He cups my face. “I need you.”

CHAPTER 32

Jordyn

Three days later, I’m heading into my office in the tutoring center, holding my phone slightly away from my ear as Chelsea nearly deafens me. “Oh my God. Tristan made you sit on his face and edged you? That’s fucking amazing! This guy is so good for you.”

“It didn’t feel amazing at the time,” I mutter, but a smile curls my lips. It was the most pleasurable pain I’ve ever felt, but I don’t want to admit that to Chelsea.

“Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that. Did he let you come?”

My face burns from embarrassment. “Yes. I had to read a scene from a book to him.”

“Oh, fuck. I spit out my iced coffee.” We laugh before she says, “Was it one of the smutty books we love?”

Unlocking the door, I hurry inside and shut it, my body overheating from the images rolling through my head. “Yes. It was a hockey smut book.” I cringe, chagrined, as Chelsea howls with laughter.

“Oh, shit. Did he know it was a hockey book?”

“Yes. The bastard confessed he snuck into my room andwent through my kindle. He took a screenshot of the page I was on, then skimmed through the book, leaving it where I left off so I wouldn’t know.” Placing my bag on the table, I sit down at my desk. “He has a Kindle Unlimited subscription now.”

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