Page 92 of Zero Pucks

Him cracking like this was not a surprise. I knew the Paralympics wasn’t going to be the last I’d seen out of Jekyll and Hyde Bodie.

“I’m not taking the C. I would never do that to him. Not ever.”

Hugo sighed. “I thought as much. Ford said the same thing.”

I couldn’t help my smile. Fuck this guy for thinking that he could pull some bullshit like that. But it did mean I needed to talk to Boden and convince him to get his head out of his fucking ass before Hugo really did pass the C on to someone else.

And hell, maybe that was his plan all along. But it was worth the risk.

“I should go.”

Hugo nodded and didn’t stand up when I did. Before I reached the door though, he cleared his throat, and I looked back at him. From that spot, he was a dark blob against the white walls of the office.

“I don’t expect you to choose me over your family, Banks.”

I had no idea what to say to that, so I said nothing at all, turning on my heel and hurrying as fast as I could down the hall without falling on my face.

CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE

AMEDEO

Practice was about as confusingas the game, but the woman Tucker had pointed out immediately called me over to sit with her and began explaining things in a way I could understand. Jonah had been very…thorough. And detailed. But in spite of him trying to use terms I understood, the lingo was so much that I was lost after thirty seconds, and I wasn’t brave enough to ask him to explain what everything meant.

“…and that right there is basically their version of high-sticking,” she said, pointing to where Ford was being scolded after almost slashing Cassidy’s brother across the face. “It’s called butt-ending. They have these sharp-as-fuck spikes, which help them grip the ice so they can push forward, but they’re dangerous as hell.”

I grimaced. “How often do they get hurt?”

She laughed. “Oh, honey. It’s hockey. You don’t get into this game unless you want to fuck yourself and everyone else up. I mean, don’t get me wrong, they care about the game. It’s only been a couple of years since para-hockey has taken off and gone pro, but people are really into it. I think it’s a nice reminder that disabled dude-bros are still dude-bros. They just do the same thing as the NHL guys, except they’re sitting down. Which,” she said, tilting her head to the side in thought, “is a little more wild because they’re sitting on a literal weapon.”

It made sense. I watched them crash into each other several times, and my ribs hurt in sympathy. I made a mental note to watch an NHL game at some point so I could compare notes. I wanted to understand all of it for Tucker.

“Did it take Cooper a long time to adjust to the difference between standing hockey and this?”

She frowned at me, then shook her head. “Oh, no, hon. Cooper hadn’t touched an ice skate before his accident. His therapist suggested he join the team because he was in a pretty bad spiral. He was an active guy before it happened. Hiking every weekend, running marathons, did a couple of salsa dance competitions a few years back.” I could hear the grief in her voice.

“What happened?” The moment the words came out, I slapped a hand over my mouth. “I’m sorry. I know that question is r-rude.”

“No, it’s fine.” She smiled at me. “He was at the wrong place at the wrong time. There was this big street festival going on, and he was meeting his girlfriend, but he was running late. He darted across the road and didn’t hear the car coming. It wasn’t going that fast. It just hit him at the right angle and flipped him. He landed on his upper back, and the force of it broke his spine.”

My stomach twisted. “Oh God.”

“He’s been through a dozen surgeries, and I don’t think he’s given up hope that someday there will be a miracle and he walks unassisted again, but I think he’s mostly moved on to being grateful he retained some upper-body strength and movement. And while I will never be grateful for the accident, we were kind of estranged before it happened, and that’s changed.”

“Why?” Oh my God, when was I going to stop asking these questions?

She didn’t seem bothered. “He was kind of a dick before everything. Didn’t love the fact that I fell for a woman.”

My insides felt like they were shriveling up. Was that why he’d been giving me odd looks all night? Only…he seemed to be very close with Tucker, who was most definitely queer before he met me, so…

“He never explained to me what changed, but I appreciate that he did. And he was easy to forgive. He practically raised me. I doubt I’d be where I am today without him, and I didn’t want to lose him because he had his head lodged deep in his too-tight asshole.”

I covered my laugh as my gaze moved across the ice. I could see Cooper—a bit of his ginger hair poking out from the bottom of his helmet. He was leaning over, talking to the goalie, who tapped his arm gently and knocked their heads together.

My gaze immediately strayed back to Tucker after that. He was on the far side of the rink with his head bowed low near Ford’s. Their conversation looked intense because when the coach blew his whistle, neither of them moved.

“That’s it for the night,” Cassidy said.

It hadn’t felt like any time had passed at all. I stood with her, and her arms tentatively opened for a hug. It was too easy to lean in, and it felt good. I didn’t have anything like this back home. I loved my sister, but she wasn’t a hugger. And I didn’t have any real friends. Everyone in my life was so wrapped up in their own business that they’d lost any semblance of connection.

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