Page 93 of Puck You Very Much

“Jack. This is Lucy,” she said, out of breath from excitement.

“Lucy,” he said, surprised.

“Yeah, hey.”

“You know Dax is pretty upset about you.”

“Yeah, I know, but…”

“He’s so messed up he even let me into his apartment.”

“Really?” she blurted out. “That’s…great. You guys should make up.”

“Youshould make up. You should…”

“I know, Jack!” she interrupted impatiently. “Why do you think I’m calling? You have to do me a favor. Can you please make sure Dax shows up for practice tomorrow?”

“Why?”

“Just do it. Please, okay? I’ll call Matt too, so he’ll make sure he comes.”

“Fine,” Jack replied stiffly. “But, Lucy…don’t you dare break his heart again.”

Her eyes burned and she violently shook her head. “I don’t plan to.”

Chapter 27

“You don’t look good, Temple.” Leon inspected him, tilting his head. “Are you sure you’re over your stomach issue? Are you really fit for practice?”

He frowned. “My stomach issue?”

“Yeah. Lucy said you ate something that didn’t agree with you.”

A snort slipped from his lips. Of course she did. “I’m fine, thanks,” he said abruptly and was glad the defender was next up for the drill. To be honest, he didn’t even know if it had been a good idea to return to practice. Matt and Jack, however, hadn’t let up and had told him not to make a fuss…and he hadn’t wanted to look like a complete idiot, even if that’s how he felt at the moment.

“Everything okay?” came from over his shoulder, this time from Fox.

“Good God, what’s wrong with you people?” Dax said, annoyed. “You miss practice for two days…”

“You’re always at practice,” Fox muttered. “Always. So, dude, what’s going on?” He looked as serious as an atom bomb. “You do know you can…talk to us, right? Every single one of us?”

Dax rolled his eyes, but at the same time, a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He had always thought he’d had one of the most dysfunctional families ever, but that was bullshit. He had a real family who was always there for him, whether he wanted it or not. And right now he didn’t want it.

“Everything’s great,” he lied. “It’s…”

“Hey, Dax, Lucy’s looking for you,” Moreau muttered, skating past them.

“What?” His head shot up immediately.

Their goalie pointed over his shoulder with his thumb—and Dax’s heart skipped a beat.

There she stood at the entrance to the ice, in her silly prudish blouse and her too-tight skirt, with her hair down. It fell in gentle waves across her shoulders, and his mouth immediately went dry.

“What does she want?”

Moreau raised an eyebrow. “She’s right there, Dax. Ask her yourself.”

He gritted his teeth. His lungs were doing silly things, making it entirely too difficult to breathe. The walk from one end of the rink to the other never seemed so long.

---