Page 68 of Zero Pucks

“Listen, I have to go.”

“Wait, hang on,” she demanded.

“I’ll call you back. I promise. I just have something to take care of.”

“Like what? You’re on a glorified vacation!”

She wasn’t wrong. But she wasn’t right. “I’m going to figure out my plans, and I’ll let you know as soon as I’m able, alright?”

“Yeah, okay.” She had to know there wasn’t much she could do other than concede. “I love you. Don’t forget that. And don’t go falling in love and running off with some asshole jock and leave me here on my own.”

My stomach leapt because I didn’t want to leave her behind, but the idea of Tucker wanting to run off with me wasn’t the most unpleasant thought I’d had. At all.

“I’ll talk to you soon.” I hung up before she could distract me any longer and pushed to my feet. There was only one place I wanted to be—one person I wanted to see.

And with the little scribbled note on the nightstand, I also had permission to go.

CHAPTERSIXTEEN

TUCKER

I wassore as fuck from the night before, sated in ways I hadn’t been in…God, I couldn’t even remember, and presently, almost completely blind. I was currently being tested to see if I was a candidate for scar removal surgery that would improve my vision, but it came with a battery of tests that fucked my eye to hell and back for several hours.

Luckily, I’d done this about fifteen dozen times, so I had my trusty cane with me and the route to the rink memorized. My first lesson of the morning was easy. A little toddler with LCA who was learning to balance on skates. It was mostly just setting him up with a Skate Mate, holding the back of his teeny-sized jersey, and ensuring he didn’t bash into too many walls.

His mom clapped and cheered when he did a spin at the end of the lesson, and then it was over. She shoved cash into my hand, which would go directly to my electric bill fund, and then she was gone.

And I was finally on my own.

I loved the feeling of being alone at the rink. Even unable to see anything other than a weird white fog, the vastness of it was comforting. Just like the ice beneath my skates.

I couldn’t feel it the way I used to, which had thrown me at first, but I’d told my first physical therapist that the one thing I wanted to do was to be able to skate again. She hadn’t made any promises, especially considering the state of my hips, but she hadn’t let me give up hope either.

And after more than a year, I was able to look her in the face and tell her that I was back on the ice.

I’d never win a race again, but I could do this. Skating in circles was a way for me to let go. To breathe easily. To feel connected to my body in ways I didn’t often get outside in the real world. And I was allowed to indulge for a whole hour before my alarm went off because next was our team meeting.

Bodie had called the meeting in the team group text, and I was not looking forward to this. I hadn’t seen him since he was ejected from the game, and the only time I’d heard from him was right after with a single message.

Bodie: Fucking traitor.

That one had stung, but only because technically, he was right. I’d agreed to help take Hugo down, but Bodie hadn’t told the entire truth about him. He had us believing the guy was an incompetent, rich asshole who somehow bought his way into the position as our coach.

We weren’t a professional team, but the guy was good, and he deserved a fair shake. Even if I did want to know why he’d been chosen over a disabled coach who would have understood us.

Still, I had to face my best friend because at some point, I had to come home and live with him. Whatever was happening between me and Amedeo was nice, but it wasn’t meant to last. Not if he was going back in a week.

Sliding onto the bench, I pulled my little wrench out of my pocket and began to unhook my skated feet from my legs. They flopped heavily to the sides, and I quickly pulled out the bag from under my seat and grabbed my walking feet.

This was also something I could do totally blind. I’d done it blind drunk before. I’d done it half-asleep. I think I’d also done it entirely asleep a few times. I felt them click into place, tightened the bolts, then stood up and tested my balance.

I was always a little off when I had my eye fucked with, so I groped back into the bag for my walking cane, leaning heavily on that as I unfolded my white cane and began to make my way toward the side entrance.

I paused when I heard something slam shut. It sounded like the rink’s front door. Technically we weren’t open, but we always kept it unlocked for any of the non-public skaters who wanted to get some ice time but didn’t have a key.

When I was met with silence, I turned again, then halted a second time when I heard a nervous throat clearing.

“Tucker?”

---