Page 91 of Your Pucking Mom

I pulled out a pair of leggings, a puffy vest, and a basic black sweater. They were all new, but instead of smiling, I frowned.

I lifted one of the items from the bag. “There’s no way these are my size. I’m not like the other girls Ledger has been photographed with. I’m…bigger.”

I wanted to cry but kept the tears inside as much as I could. Cassy shook her head as she rounded the counter, pulling up the vest and looking at the tag.

“This’ll fit.” She held up the vest, showing me the tag. Through my tear-clouded vision I saw the size and let out a breath of relief.

“Oh my God. He must’ve known.” I had left my pants in his dryer. He had my size, so he must’ve gone out shopping by himself using it as a guide.

Cassy gave me a crooked smile before patting me on the back. “Go get your man.”

47

ledger

my favorite game

This one was easy. I was already on the rink, but instead of my typical hockey pads, I was in a pair of jeans and a long-sleeve black Henley. I had trimmed my beard and gelled my long black hair so it wasn’t falling in my face. It was easy to arrange with Coach and management to let me borrow the ice for a couple of hours.

I was already out on the ice when she appeared, coming up from the tunnels and dressed in the outfit I’d scrambled to pick out earlier with Stassi’s help. After apologizing for the, er, noisy encounter with Auburn in their bathroom, I begged Stassi for assistance to set this plan I had conjured up.

“Hi,” I said, skating toward the entrance of the boards. She had put on the rentals I’d left with the security at the door. She looked fucking beautiful with her curls wild in two big buns atop her head, some framing her face.

“I’m glad this worked. I noticed that you left without changing this morning and didn’t know where you lived, so I wanted to make sure you changed before you came here.”

She smiled, her freckles like constellations scattered across her nose, her dimples adding depth to her smile. With each graceful movement, her hips swayed a mesmerizing rhythm.

“Favorite game?” she asked, her laughter a melodic symphony on the winter breeze.

“You said you wanted to get to know me. We have seven days, and I plan to make sure you know everything.”

She wobbled on her skates until she got up to the boards. I reached out my hands, and she took mine in hers. “Remember what happened last time we were here?”

“Eh. I was an asshole then.” I grabbed her hips and lifted her over the wooden boards right onto the ice. Instinctually, her hand grasped onto the wood. “This is my redo for you.”

“I know you and Austin love skating, but I literally don’t get it,” she grumbled as she tried to steady herself. I grabbed her by her waist and turned her around so her back was pressed against my chest.

“Grab onto my forearms,” I instructed, her body melding into mine as she clutched onto me tightly. Wrapping my arms around her, my frame supported us as we glided across the rink. While I did most of the legwork, her feet followed along as best they could.

A burst of delight erupted from her as we circled the rink several times. Adjusting my grip so I continued to support and guide her, she released her hands, holding them out as if reenacting the iconic Titanic pose.

“Ledger,” she said breathlessly, and I stopped, spinning us in the middle of the rink so we were facing each other. She had a natural pink flush from the cool air sprinkling her cheeks.

“I can see why you do it.”

“Do what?” I asked.

She spun slowly and opened her arms, gesturing to the rink. “This.” I glanced around, a sudden pang tightening my chest. “What’s wrong?” Her lips twitched downward.

I shook my head. “Nothing,” I said as I guided her over to one of the penalty boxes where I’d brought some hot cocoa from a vendor outside.

As I swung open the door to the penalty box, she shot me a mock glare, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Don’t ‘nothing’ me,” she teased, her tone light, but there was something serious in her undertone as she followed me inside. With a theatrical flourish, I presented her with the cup of cocoa, the rich aroma enveloping us as she eagerly took a sip. A soft sigh of contentment escaped her lips, her eyes closing briefly in blissful appreciation.

She glanced up at me, her gaze warm and grateful. “Back when I used to work with concessions, this was my go-to treat during those chilly game nights,” she remarked, a hint of nostalgia coloring her words. She chuckled softly, the memory eliciting a wave of fondness.

I sat down next to her. “You worked at a hockey rink?”

She nodded. “When Austin was a toddler, that’s where he learned to skate.” She told me how he’d convinced the instructors to teach him, and she somehow got them to do it for free.

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