Page 69 of Zero Pucks

I’d know the sound of his voice in a pitch-black room. I turned, wishing I could see more than a white fog. “Hey. It’s early.”

His footsteps padded softly over the worn carpet, then stopped somewhere near me. I waited a beat, but he said nothing.

“You okay?” I asked.

“I, yeah. A-are you?”

I frowned, and it took me a full thirty seconds to realize what he was talking about. “Oh, yeah, no. I’m good.”

“But—” My guess was he was pointing at the white cane. Or maybe the walking cane. Once again, a stark reminder of how much he didn’t know about me.

“I had an eye doctor appointment, and the drops they use fuck my vision for most of the day. My balance sucks when I can’t see.”

“Oh. Um…”

“It’s not a big deal. Trust me. This happens a few times a year.” Pulling both my canes closer toward me, I took a tentative step forward until I could smell a waft of his soap. He must be freshly showered, and God, I wanted to touch his warm, clean skin. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah. I am now.”

Because of me? That couldn’t be possible. But his tone was so…warm. So relieved.

“I’m sorry I had to leave you this morning. You got my note, right?”

He laughed, and I heard him shuffle a step closer. “I got your note. I wasn’t upset that you were gone. Just…” He stopped again. “Never mind. It’s not important.”

I wanted to ask him to tell me everything—to spill it all. To unload whatever was sitting on his shoulders. But the buzzing in my pocket reminded me I had somewhere to be. “I have a meeting right now. Kiss me, and then if you want to, wait for me?”

He stepped into my space, careful at first, and then he slid his arms around my waist, and I leaned into him. Fuck, he felt so good. “I don’t want to take up your time today.”

I was desperate to tell him he wouldn’t be taking up any of my time, but I had so much to do, and it wouldn’t be fair to everyone else if my focus was elsewhere. “Meet me for lunch.” I tilted my face up, hopeful for a kiss.

He cupped my jaw. “Where?”

“Your place? I’m not a big fan of eating at restaurants when I can’t see much.”

“Can I pick you up?”

“Depends on how good you kiss me right now,” I said, deciding I’d waited long enough.

He laughed, then tilted my head back and gave me exactly what I’d asked for. The ends of my legs flexed in the sockets like I was trying to curl my toes, and I opened my mouth to let him in. He tasted like mint and coffee.

“Mm,” he hummed against my mouth.

“Oh, get a fucking room, for Christ’s sake.” That was Ford.

Amedeo stiffened against me, then pulled away slowly, his breathing a little heavy and hitched on his inhale. “H-hi. Hi. N-nice to see you again. We were just?—”

“Oh, I saw what you were just,” Ford said. Amedeo jostled, and I knew Ford had grabbed his shoulder, so I dropped my walking cane, threw my arm around him, and tugged him away.

“Hands,” I barked.

“Touchy,” Ford answered with a low whistle. “I didn’t know we were allowed to bring guests to the meeting.”

“Oh. I w-wasn’t,” Amedeo stammered. “I mean, I just stopped by to?—”

“Mind your fucking business,” I snapped, cutting Ford off. I loved my friends, but Amedeo wasn’t used to this, and I wanted to ease him into their bullshittery.

“Hey,” Ford said, the humor dropping from his tone, “I was just joking. It’s really nice to see you, okay?”

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