Page 26 of Zero Pucks

He rolled his eyes. “Only technically. You can be as tall as you want.”

Also true. I’d gotten an extra inch on my legs for shits, giggles, and bragging rights that I was now taller than Killian. Unfortunately, that didn’t get under his skin the way I’d hoped. “What else?”

“He’s got kind of a dad-bod thing going. Wild hair, like he’d been playing with it all day. Uh…” His brow furrowed in thought. “He looked really young, kind of like Bodie, until he started talking, then he had grandpa energy, which I loved. Gave off nerd vibes.”

“Everyone here is a giant fucking nerd,” I said. And we were. The jock kind. But this wasn’t high school. No one really cared.

“He seemed fragile. That sounds mean,” Ford quickly corrected. “I just don’t know what other way to say it.”

I sat back and tugged on the hem of my shirt as something new hit me. “What if he’s married? Like, not to me. To someone else.”

Ford opened his mouth, then shut it. “Shit.”

“Or engaged. Or, you know, in a long-term thing. What if I ruined his life?” My voice cracked at the end. I had done a lot of terrible things in my life—especially in the early days after realizing my career with the NHL was over.

I was unkind. I hurt people on purpose. I allowed myself to get hurt in hopes of upsetting my family. I took every chance I could to make my brother feel guilty that he remained whole while I was shattered apart.

I’d even encouraged Boden to go against everything he wanted and destroy his chance to play in the Paralympics because I wanted to take people down with me.

But I hadn’t been that man in a long while. I didn’t want to be that man anymore. And the idea that when I was drunk off my tits and not thinking, I could revert right back to him was…terrifying.

“Fuck. I’m the monster. I’m?—”

“Hey. Tuck, please don’t.”

My head whipped to the side to see Boden walking into the room, leaning heavily on his crutches. He made his way over to his armchair and sat, dropping the crutches against the wall and leaning over his thighs. His gaze met mine and held it.

I shook my head. “Bodie, you and I both know that if anyone is to blame here, it’s me.”

“We don’t know anything about this guy. He could be a total sociopath who preys on vulnerable people,” Boden said, his voice low and rumbly.

I looked over at Ford, who was biting his lip.

“Uh. I mean, maybe. But my gut says no. Even though I did try to hit on him, and you and I both know my taste would totally go for a shitty dude.”

That was true, but I also trusted Ford’s judgment.

“Chances are you were both drinking to escape something, and both of you made an equally foolish decision,” Boden said.

“Exactly. Exactly that. Okay? So…crisis averted?” Ford started to stand up.

“Are you serious? No! Crisis still very much crisising!” I all but shouted.

Ford sighed and flopped back down onto the couch. “I need to go feed my cat.”

“You know Nugget is fine,” I snarled.

Boden waved a hand at him. “Go, bud. I’ve got this.”

“But—”

“Stop being a child,” Boden snapped, then immediately softened. “I understand you’re freaked-out, Tuck. This is not the best situation you’ve ever found yourself in. Crisse, I’d say it’s second worst.”

“I do not find our last Paralympics as tragic as you do,” I said stiffly.

He sighed, then held out his hand toward Ford and tugged him down, knocking their foreheads together in a soft, affectionate goodbye. Boden didn’t do that with just anyone. In fact, he did that with almost no one, and not even always with us, which meant he was trying to calm everyone down.

Which, of course, was my fault again.

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