Page 102 of Zero Pucks

“Look at this motherfucking princess,” Cooper said, slapping me on the ass with his half-curled paralyzed hand. “You gonna put a ring on it tonight?”

My face flushed. It was kind of the opposite, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. I just pressed my palm over his face and shoved, rolling him backward so I could get to my cane and head out. Amedeo had gotten everything set up while we were at practice, but I knew he was waiting for me now.

Under the dim lights of the parking lot, I caught a glimpse of his car and made my way over. When I was close enough, I could see his silhouette waiting for me at the curb.

“Hi,” he said, breathless, as I wrapped around him and pulled him close.

I didn’t bother with a greeting. I kissed him instead.

“You ready?” he asked when he pulled back.

I was. I was more than ready. I kissed him to answer that one too.

The drive to the field wasn’t too long. It was a little camping spot that Amedeo had reserved that allowed big fires. With summer approaching and a lick of humidity in the air, it was nice out, even with the breeze.

I held his arm as he guided me toward the little site he’d reserved, and I sat on a log as he got to work lighting the fire that was preset in the pit.

“Were you a Boy Scout?” I asked as the flames began to lick the pieces of wood. I couldn’t see anything around us except the glow of the fire and the way it shone on his face.

He laughed. “No. But when I was little, my grandparents had a little wood-burning stove to heat their house, so I learned how to start it.”

“We don’t need it to last too long,” I said, pulling him into my lap once he was close enough. His weight settled on me, and I tucked my face into his neck.

“No. I suppose we don’t.”

“Though, maybe if I could bend you over this log and fuck you?—”

“Oh my God, Tucker!”

I laughed and kissed his shoulder. “I’m joking. Or…am I?”

“Oh, I know you’re not. And that is something we can revisit later. With a camper so I don’t get sand in my crack. And a more secluded spot.”

I didn’t hate that idea. I grinned as I watched the flames get bigger, and once all the logs had caught, Amedeo shifted away from my hold.

“It’s time.” He dropped to his knees beside me and pulled his bag closer, undoing the zipper, which was barely audible over the crackling flames.

I couldn’t see what he had in his hand, but I didn’t need to. I knew what it was. He told me the meaning of the word “effigy” back when we were gathering everything we needed for this. It was a moment—a cleansing.

A way to let the past become ash to make way for a future. He’d called it a fertile future, which made me laugh like a teenage boy, but I understood what he was saying. I wanted the room to grow too. With him and with myself.

So the marriage license was in there, and a few receipts from Vegas, and the Post-it he’d written. I struggled to give up that one, but he promised to write me more, and after I made him seal it with a kiss, I agreed and added it.

On top of that was a photo of his ex he’d printed out from his phone, and there was one of mine. And then my brother’s wedding invitation. It had made bile rise in my gullet, but I knew this was something I had to do.

My parents would inevitably throw a guilt-trip fit once Killian told them I wasn’t going to be there, and we still had to plan a trip to California to help Amedeo with his apartment—and maybe punch Bryce in the dick if I got a chance.

But for now, we could start fresh. Just Amedeo and me.

We didn’t need tangible reminders of what was. As ironic as it was, I would never forget how I met Amedeo, and that was all that mattered.

“Ready?” he asked.

I slid off the log and folded my legs so I could scoot closer to the flames. The heat was a lot, but this wouldn’t take long.

He took my hand and pressed a small square of paper into it. The Post-it was first.

I flicked the corner until it bent. “Should I say something?”

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