Page 49 of Zero Pucks

Jonah hummed in thought, his brows furrowed. “I wanna say like…August? September?”

That could be doable, and frankly, it was next to impossible to say no. The Legends were a professional team—as professional as disabled teams were allowed to be. But they were sponsored and had funding. Their coaches got paid in more than chewing gum, peanuts, and a wage barely enough to deduct taxes out of.

It was a real, proper job. I’d have to wear a suit. And travel.

All those grown-up things I’d been avoiding in my big, grown-up life. Though technically, I had gotten married, so that counted…didn’t it?

“Why are you quiet?” Jonah demanded.

“Lotta shit going on.”Don’t ask. Please don’t ask.

“The hottie with the body at lunch today?” he asked, wagging his brows.

I shoved him, then began to head toward the office, and he was quick at my heels, grabbing my elbow so I couldn’t get too far. “Can we not talk about Amedeo right now?”

In all honesty, I was still reeling from our moment in the bathroom. Every time I closed my eyes, I could see the stunned look on his face. I could still feel the echo of his breath, and his lips against mine, and the way he’d grabbed me and held me like he was terrified to let go.

Clearly, something had been going on with him that day, but I didn’t think that was why he’d kissed me the way he did. It was certainly not why I’d kissed him.

I wanted him. I couldn’t get him out of my head, and maybe it had everything to do with the whole wedding thing. Or maybe it was me being a dipshit and falling for a guy who lived on the literal other side of the country. Because that was not doable. I was not moving to California.

“He has a great name, by the way. And a nice voice,” Jonah said, letting me go as I opened the office door.

He walked in past me, waving his hand around gently until he found his chair, and then he sank down and stretched his legs out, crossing them at the ankles.

“Yeah.” I stepped over him and dropped into my chair, which made that soft, leather-fart sound. The ends of my legs were throbbing now, and I couldn’t wait to take them off. I needed a leg break for at least a week, but I wasn’t ready to do that yet. Not with Amedeo here.

I wanted Amedeo to have time to get comfortable around me, and if that meant a little discomfort for a bit, I could handle it.

“Is that all I’m going to get? Yeah?”

“What do you want from me? This isn’t…” I stopped. I couldn’t tell him it wasn’t anything because I didn’t like lying to my friends. “I don’t really know what’s going on, okay? And I’m confused and a little afraid.”

Jonah sat up straight and leaned over his thighs, his face an immediate mask of concern. “Holy shit. You actually mean that.”

“Yeah. It fucking sucks. I thought the worst thing that was going to come out of Vegas was a monster hangover. Instead, I got this adorably hot nerd who isn’t wearing a bow tie but probably should. And he just…just storms into my life and kisses like a dream, and?—”

“Whoa, hold your fucking balls?—”

“Phone.”

“You kissed?”

Licking my lips, I swore I could still taste Amedeo there. “We had a small, tiny little…thing.” False. It was a big, wet, desperate make-out session in a filthy bathroom.

Jonah grinned. “You like him. Youlikethis guy.”

I covered my face and groaned into my palms. “It’s a terrible idea.”

“He’s coming tonight, right? Like, for sure?”

I was about seventy-eight point six percent sure. But close enough. “Yeah.”

“I’ll sit with him. I’ll explain the game so he can follow it.”

“Yeah. A blind man narrating a sled hockey game to a man who has no idea how hockey works. That’s gonna go over well.”

“I’ll talk you up,” Jonah said, waving me off. “I’ll bring Micah?—”

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