Page 96 of Zero Pucks

Literally.

“Here,” he said, shoving his phone at me before easing me down to the bed. I crawled under the covers as he perched on the edge of the mattress and began to take his legs off. “You can entertain yourself with my weird, curated Instagram feed if you want. Or, I don’t know, make a bunch of international calls to foreign psychics. Whatever floats your boat, okay?”

I laughed softly as I watched him shift his legs to the side. He reached down for something, and then I saw the hesitation on his face.

“Tucker? What’s wrong?”

“I…” He swallowed heavily and twisted his body, and I saw him holding two very short versions of his prosthetics. “Will these be weird?”

I shrugged. “Does it matter?”

“Will this go away?” he asked, rubbing the heel of his free hand over my dick.

It kicked hard against the pressure. “I very much doubt it. And…” I sat up a little. “I hope you trust me.”

His face shifted, and then he nodded and flopped over for another kiss. “I do.”

I watched out of the corner of my eye as he put them on. They were similar to his regular prosthetics, only when he shifted off the bed, he was barely four feet tall. He took a few steps back, and I understood why he was worried.

It was different. He walked with a waddle since he had no knees, and it gave me the impression that he was tiny. But he was still Tucker.

He was stillmine.

I rolled over toward him and made grabby hands until he came back. “Not weird.”

“Liar,” he said, pressing the word against my lips.

I shook my head as I kissed him back. “Not weird. Different, but still you. I like all of you.”

He stared for a long beat, then knocked our foreheads together and breathed in. “Wish me luck that Bodie doesn’t flip out on me and threaten to end our friendship.”

“We can talk about it after if you want. But good luck.”

He kissed me one last time before slipping out the door, and I rolled onto my back, listening to his prosthetics gently thump against the floor as he headed toward his friends. And then it was quiet again. I could hear the whirr of the fan and some sort of electric hum coming from somewhere, but nothing else.

There was no shouting, no threats, no anger.

Then Tucker’s phone buzzed, and I saw my sister’s name on the screen.

Alessia: This better not be a joke.

Me: It’s not. It’s Deo. Bryce has been calling my phone non-stop all night from burners. He says he’s in town but I’m not sure I believe him.

Alessia: I’ll make some calls and find out. When are you coming home?

Me: I don’t know. Things are changing.

Alessia: I figured as much. I’ll put in for some time off so I can come see you.

Me: You’re not going to fight me about coming back?

Alessia: Can you look me in the eye and tell me this is still home?

Me: I’m sorry.

Alessia: I’m not. I love you and I want you to be happy. But leave this text here because I need this man to know that if he so much as moves a hair on your head, I will come for him. I don’t care about jail. I will survive easily. Give me a week and I’ll be running prison.

I pressed the phone to my forehead as I laughed, enjoying the reminder of why I loved my sister so much. We were only six years apart, but she’d been more of a mother to me than mine had ever been, and I knew right then the only hard part about saying goodbye to home was leaving her.

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