Page 10 of The Puck Player

I make quick work of finishing getting ready, and nod my head to Coach on the way out, as I grab my stuff and leave. There are still plenty of people milling around the sports center, since this building doesn’t just house the hockey rink, but a large gymnastics department, dance squad, and swimming pool too, and I ignore the few girls who try and get my attention, while offering the tip of my head to the other members of staff that work here.

I push out the building with my phone in hand ready to call my mum back, when I come to a stop as I meet those newly familiar green eyes, emerald if you were interested, that have been haunting me since Friday night.

Well, well, well, this is an interesting turn of events.

Aubree is looking around as if admiring the campus and buildings, and when she spots me smirking at her she rolls her eyes, but still she straightens her shoulders a little. She has changed from the outfit she was wearing earlier, and is now styled in more dressed-down attire of leggings and a jumper, though the jumper does have little pink bows on it, so it is still very much her.

“You said you weren’t interested in me and yet here you are,” I drawl, strolling towards her, as my heart begins to beat wildly in my chest. Only when I reach her, do I add, “Are you waiting for me, love?”

“In your dreams,” she scoffs with a laugh, taking a subtle step back from me, but I can’t help but feel the excitement burning between us.

“And what dreams they would be,” I muse, speaking from experience, since she has haunted my every waking second since the moment I laid eyes on her, and once again she rolls her eyesat me in annoyance. Well fuck, there goes my dick again, the poor thing can’t catch a break. “There’s a party at my house on Friday,” I push on, not letting her disinterest deter me in any way.

“And?” she drawls, flicking her gaze between me and the door I just came from, and I know she sees the few girls passing us and whispering.

“Come with me,” I plead, and her eyes fly back to mine in genuine surprise, before she quickly hides it.

“I have a boyfriend, remember?” she reminds me, and I smirk at her, once again bringing him up as if I forgot about him.

She’s cute, as if I didn’t text Duchess the second I got back to my table at lunch, asking her to get me everything on this boyfriend so I know what I’m working with.

“What and he doesn’t let you party?” I ask, cocking a brow at her in question, and I can see her getting flustered.

“And I don’t really drink,” she quickly adds, and I know she will try and say anything to get out of my invitation.

“Says the girl I met in a bar,” I remind her, and her stern responding look has my dick getting even harder.

“That was a rare occurrence and had I known it would have resulted in your attention, then I never would have been there in the first place,” she snaps, getting more and more irritated, and I can’t help but laugh.

“What’s your favorite non-alcoholic drink?” I ask, switching tactics, and she seems so caught off guard that she doesn’t even hesitate.

“Pink lemonade,” she replies, before realizing why I asked, making her add, “But I’m still not coming to your party, and it’s not because I have a boyfriend, or that I don’t really drink, it’s because I don’t like you.” Fuck, why does she have to be so mean, my cock is fucking aching for her.

“You don’t even know me and you’ve already decided you don’t like me?” I ask in amusement and she sighs.

“I have faith in what I do know,” she starts and before she can say anything else, I interrupt her.

“Faith is fickle,” I clap back, and she pauses, as if whatever she was about to add is now irrelevant, as her hand flies to a ring on her middle finger and she starts twisting it around. “The only thing you need to believe in is yourself,” I add, moving to walk backwards away from her, and she stares at me dumbfounded, and just as I am about to turn and walk away, I pause and add, “Oh, and it’s roses by the way.”

“What?”

“My favorite flowers are roses.” I don’t bother telling her it’s because that’s what she smells like, and instead just offer her one last wink and smile, before I turn and leave her behind.

Much to my cock’s dismay.

Faith is fickle, that’s what the blond asshole just said to me, and much to my annoyance, it’s the most real thing anyone has said to me in months. I feel as if he just struck me straight in the chest, as he walks away with a smile on his face, not picking up on the destruction he is leaving behind. I grew up with my faith, I attended church with my mom and grandma, our entire town really, it was the norm for us, and I never questioned it, never had a reason to. I lived in a place of thinking that no matter what was going on in my life, I knew I was surrounded by something bigger than me, a higher power. A higher power that didn’t care when it took everything from me, and I have been drowning ever since.

Everyone around me tried to help, but their help came with bible verses, and judgements about how to handle my grief, andhonestly that was almost worse than the pain I was feeling. I knew what I had lost, and I knew there was nothing that could fill the hole that now rests inside of me, including my faith. It wasn’t strong, it didn’t hold me together, or stop the tears from falling, and that’s when I knew faith was as fleeting as life. They’re both the same, and can be stolen at any moment, and too much has been stolen from me.Fucking fickle.

I’m not sure how long I stand here locked in the trance of Alexander’s words, and how easily I felt connected to a stranger, but it’s long enough that my dad finds me. “Sorry about the wait, kiddo,” he greets me, pulling me from my thoughts, and my eyes meet his, grounding me once more.

Grady Locke looks too young to be the father of a nineteen year old, with his dark, inky hair only dusted with light speckles of gray at the side. He stands tall at six-feet, with broad shoulders and lean muscles thanks to playing hockey practically his whole life, and even now I can see why my mom fell for him. He’s firm but kind, smart and subtly funny, and like me his eyes are darkened with loss, and he doesn’t believe in any higher power trying to save him.

“It’s okay, I haven’t been here long,” I tell him with a smile, as he nods his head towards the parking lot where he must have parked his car.

We ate dinner together at his house on Sunday, but tonight he insisted on taking me out to eat somewhere in town, so we’re heading to a little steakhouse I enjoyed the last time I was here.

“None of my boys gave you any trouble, did they?” he grunts, and my mind instantly flickers to Alexander, and I wonder what my dad would make of his attention.

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