Page 34 of Zero Pucks

“You told him that would be my job, I’m assuming?”

I looked at him. “Well, I figured volunteering youwasthe best choice?—”

“I’m not an Uber. And I have a whole dinner to cook.”

“—but I decided to pay for his ride instead,” I finished with a smirk. “Oh, and also? I hate you.”

“You don’t.”

He was right, of course. I didn’t. “Will you order it on your phone? I’ll Venmo you the cost later.” I wheeled around to my door and lifted my body into the seat before quickly tearing apart my chair and throwing it into the back.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll take care of it. Sit down, and don’t make any other bad decisions for the rest of the night.”

“Dick.”

I was close enough now to see his grin. God, he really wassucha dick. Too bad I loved him with all my heart.

* * *

I couldn’t decide if I wanted to do a quick panic shower—scrub the balls, a quick once-over on my hair, the end of my legs so they didn’t smell like butt cheese from being in the thick gel socks all day, and then a quick swipe of the pits before drying off and getting dressed—or a very long, very thorough shower that included the butt crack all the way to the insides of my ears so I looked as nice as possible when I saw Amedeo again. Though why I cared was still beyond me.

I rarely got this twisted up over dudes I found attractive, and I was surrounded by hockey players most weeks.

So why him? Why this little round-cheeked, dimpled nerd who probably worked in an office or something?

By the time I decided—the quick panic shower—I’d already been sitting under the spray for fifteen minutes, staring at the back of the shampoo bottle that I couldn’t read. I soaped up, rinsed off, then hopped into my wheelchair with a hand towel over my dick…

And came to an abrupt halt in the dark hallway, in front of a shadow I didn’t recognize, which only meant one thing.

“S-sorry. Sorry.” Oh, that voice. “Oh my God, I was just looking for the bathroom.”

I slapped a hand over my crotch to steady the towel. “Uh. When did you get here?”

“Five minutes ago?” he said very quietly. “Your friend let me in.”

Wonderful. I had to be red as a goddamn fire truck. “I’m gonna, uh?—”

“Yeah, no. Of course. You need to get dressed. May I use the bathroom, or?—”

“Go nuts.”

Go nuts? Get it the fuck together, Tucker. Don’t make him regret coming over.

I grabbed my wheels and gave a single hard push, gliding through my bedroom door, which I quickly shut with my elbow, then dropped my face into my hands and did a long, silent scream into my palms.

Jesus, I needed to get it together and get out there before he had time to realize what a disaster I was.

Unfortunately, being that I was missing two limbs and one eye, getting dressed was never a quick affair. Most of my clothes I didn’t need to really look at. I knew what everything was by a single touch, so I found my favorite Henley and the jeans that made my ass look great.

But then there was the whole chafe cream, prosthetic liners, the gel socks, and then wriggling into jeans, whichdidrequire some hopping and stomach sucking. By the time I was done, my hair was half-dry and all over the place, so I threw on my glasses and went to work with a little gel to make it look at least halfway orderly.

Turning left to right, I leaned in close to the mirror to get the best look at myself. Not half-bad. I was used to the scars, so I didn’t notice them much, and Amedeo really hadn’t been fixated on them, which was a nice change.

An entire twenty-five minutes later, I was ready. My heart felt like it was beating in my throat, but I stepped out of the room and had just made it to the living room when I remembered I was wearing my glasses. I hated them. They were thick and lopsided, ugly and thick-framed. I preferred my contact, which didn’t give me the best corrected vision with all the scarring, but it looked better.

Then I turned and saw Amedeo very clearly for the first time in…probably ever. And fuck. He really was cute as a goddamn button.

“Hey,” he said with a tiny grin. He was sitting on the left side of the couch with his hands pressed together in between his knees, his shoulders hunched. “Uh, your friend said you’d be out soon. He said he was going to bed and not to bother him unless someone’s?—”

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