Page 88 of Puck You Very Much

That was such a shitty thought that Dax took his first drink of whiskey at one o’clock, right when Matt called for the tenth time and Coach Gray texted asking if he’d been in a bad car accident, because he wouldn’t accept any other excuse.

Dax ignored them all. He reached for his cell phone a thousand times to text Lucy but then changed his mind.

She needed space and time to think. He was almost certain of that. If he filled her voicemail, she would just spout some nonsense about not being dependent again!

He understood. She was afraid. He, too, was afraid. He had met her father, so he knew what she believed was going to happen. But damn, he had never felt the way he had in the last few weeks of his life. He’d felt free, like on the ice, only better! He knew that Lucy felt the same way. She had to let go of her fear, take a chance…and he would stomp anyone into the ground who said her job performance was not up to par simply because she was sleeping with a hockey player.

She was the best PR consultant they had ever had. Everyone knew that. Everyone liked her. Nobody would think badly of her. She wouldn’t hear it from him, though.

As the sun finished its circuit across the sky and the moon replaced it, he was still sitting on the couch, staring at the empty whiskey bottle, wondering what he could do to convince Lucy that they were amazing together. What could he do to prove to her that she wasn’t dependent on him? She had been crying. Surely she wasn’t fine, either, today…and shit! She wouldn’t tell anyone, would she? She would stay strong and keep working.

“Shit.” Cursing, he reached for the phone and texted Matt.Can you check on Lucy? I don’t think she’s okay. Or at least let her sister know.

He sent the message and Matt’s reply asking what the hell was going on came within minutes. But that was enough human contact for the day…and as if the door had heard his thoughts, there was a knock.

Dax was on his feet before he realized his muscles were even responding. Lucy. It had to be Lucy. Or Matt. Ah shit, he hoped it was Lucy.

He ripped open the door…and froze.

“Hey,” the man opposite him said gruffly.

It was Jack.

For a few seconds, Dax stared at his brother, perplexed. Then he choked out, “What are you doing here?”

He shrugged. “I thought I’d come over. I had the feeling that something happened with Lucy and you can’t tell many people about it, can you?”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “What?”

“Well, I’m not arrogant enough to think you missed practice today because of me. Lucy appears exhausted and…I put two and two together.” The next moment, he pulled out a bottle of whiskey. “Thought you could use this.”

Dax blocked the doorway, staring at his brother. He didn’t want to let him in, but he wanted the whiskey. He didn’t want to deal with the shit from last night, but he didn’t want to be alone anymore, now that he had the option. At some point, he would have to talk to Jack, anyway. Why not now, when everything was already fucked up?

“Fuck it—fine. Come in,” he said harshly and moved back to the living room. He set out a second glass and plopped down onto the couch.

Dax heard the door shut. Jack sat down beside him, poured them both a drink, and handed him a glass.

Then they sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity. Dax stared at the amber liquid. Jack swirled his around.

Finally, he asked, “So? Lucy?”

“Broke it off.”

“Why?” Jack sounded so aghast, Dax almost smiled.

“Ask her yourself. I’d say fear. Mostly.”

“Shit.”

“Yep.” He nodded.

“The meal yesterday…”

“Was everything I imagined my birthday would be, yes.”

Jack laughed hoarsely. “God. I wanted to pull myself together, you know? For Anna. For you. Tell you about it when we were alone, when I felt like we had…a chance to be a family again. But I was so angry, at the situation, myself, for not…doing it differently back then.”

Dax pressed his lips together, took a sip, and nodded. “If there’s one thing I understand, it’s anger,” he murmured.

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