Page 47 of Zero Pucks

“If they wanted one, they would have asked. Tucker can be a little weird about people driving him.”

It made sense, I supposed. I didn’t know about his accident or the details about what happened when he lost his legs and his eye, but what I did know about Tucker was that he was fiercely independent. He was bossy yet sweet about it. He was everything Bryce had pretended to be but could never pull off.

“You like him,” Ford said.

I flushed. “He’s been very kind to me since all of this happened.”

“You know that’s not what I meant, but I’m gonna let you off the hook because this whole situation’s fucked.” He slung his arm back around my shoulder now that Tucker wasn’t there to growl possessively into my ear. “Let me give you a ride home, yeah?”

Right. Because I’d gone for a walk to get a bite to eat, and then Bryce had fucked my entire day. And now I had no idea where I was. “That would be nice. Thank you.”

“Anything for my favorite brother-in-law,” he said with a huge grin.

I didn’t bother to correct him.

The ride back to my rental was quiet, and though it wasn’t long because nothing in this town seemed to take more than ten minutes, it felt like forever. I realized I was dreading being on my own, and my stomach started to twist uncomfortably around my soup and bread as Ford pulled into the driveway.

When he slid alongside my car, he didn’t just idle. He turned the engine off and then twisted his body to face mine. “You can tell me to fuck off—because lots of people do—but are you okay?”

His question was so genuine I felt an inexplicable urge to shove a metaphorical knife in my belly and spill my guts all over him. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

He sighed. “I’m pretty good at reading people. Everyone says I should go into, like…what are those detectives who are in charge of interrogating criminals?”

Half my mouth lifted into a small grin. “I think those are just detectives.”

“Sure, right. Like onCSIor whatever. Anyway, I can tell you’re lying.”

I had no idea what to say to him. Iwaslying. I was not okay, and I didn’t know how to be okay. But I was the interloper here—the stranger who’d turned their best friend’s life upside down by marrying him in a drunken blackout, ghosting him in the hotel room, and then turning up weeks later to make sure we could get rid of the paperwork together.

“You don’t have to talk to me, but I am a good listener.”

I glanced up at him. He was young, but he had age in his eyes and wrinkles on either side of his forehead. He’d been through some shit—that was obvious—but I supposed all of Tucker’s friends had.

“It’s not important. Things in my life are just messy. I thought I could escape it for a little while, but I was wrong.”

“Is that why you were sitting on a bus bench having a panic attack?”

“It hardly qualified as an attack. It was a panic moment,” I said, hugging my middle. I wasn’t ashamed of having anxiety, but I was tired of people thinking that made me weak. Even if I might have been projecting on Ford just a tiny bit. “And yes, I…well.” I blew out a puff of air. “My ex called.”

His head tilted to the side, and I realized then that Tucker hadn’t told his friend about the fact that our little tryst—or whatever it was—happened while I was technically in a relationship. I was the cheater, and that shame was real.

And overwhelming.

“He’s not very nice. And he’s angry about what I did.”

Ford’s eyes widened. “In Vegas.”

Glancing away, I nodded. I should bear this shame publicly. “There’s no excuse for what I did. He has every right to hate me.”

“But?” Ford pressed.

I looked back at him. “But nothing. He does. Whatever he throws at me, I deserve it.”

Ford’s brow furrowed. “Mm, no. Sorry, bud, but I don’t buy that for a second. Cheating is fucking terrible, but I can tell this is so much deeper than you having a ho moment in a casino bar.”

I swallowed thickly, then shrugged. “Is it okay if we don’t talk about this?” Oh Christ, my voice was shaking.

Ford quickly threw up both hands. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I know this is none of my business. It’s just…” He hesitated, then let his breath out in a sigh. “Tucker really likes you, and I haven’t seen him like anyone in…well. Ever, I think? He gets his kicks in clubs when he gets bored, but he hasn’t dated since—” He stopped abruptly. “Did he tell you why he was in Vegas?”

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