Page 73 of Zero Pucks

Which was only slightly terrifying because that meant when I came crashing down, it was a longer way to fall.

CHAPTERSEVENTEEN

AMEDEO

Keepingmyself busy for two and a half hours was easy. I let myself get lost in the little boutique supermarket as I debated what I wanted to make him for lunch. I wasn’t much of a cook, so I ended up overbuying enough ingredients to make a charcuterie board—then I needed the board. Then drinks. Then dessert.

By the time I was adding sunflowers to my basket, I knew I’d gone too far. I didn’t put anything back and said a prayer for all the stuff that would go to waste. The drive back to the rental didn’t take up enough time, but putting everything together did.

I thought, then overthought, then panicked and paced when I tried to figure out the best way to lay it all out for Tucker so he didn’t have to struggle. I went on a deep-dive Google search but couldn’t find any articles on how blind people liked to eat charcuterie, but I found several issues on etiquette when dealing with people who had vision loss and watched those until I realized I was about to be late picking him up.

I threw everything into the fridge, managed to get my shoes on as I was hopping out the door, and was lucky I didn’t get pulled over for speeding as I turned into the parking lot.

He was there, standing in front of the rink, leaning on his white cane and talking to a woman who was standing very, very close to him. Too close. Close enough that it made my throat ache with an unfamiliar pain.

He was smiling too. And she was swaying closer to him, touching his arm, gesturing, making him laugh.

Fuck her. Fuck this absolute monster who was trying to weasel her way into a place she didn’t belong.

The force of that thought scared the hell out of me. That was not who I was, and I had absolutely no claim to Tucker at all. Who did I think I was?

I forced myself to take several deep breaths before pulling up to the curb, and then I realized I had no idea what to do. Did I get out and call to him? Text? Could he even read texts right now? I glanced in my mirror, and I saw the woman staring at me with a frown.

My goose was cooked.

Opening the door, I stepped halfway out and twisted to look at Tucker, who had stepped away from her a little. It was only then I noticed a kid hanging onto his free arm. It was a boy who couldn’t have been more than seven, wearing wrap-around shades and carrying the smallest white cane I’d ever seen.

“Deo?” he asked.

“Yeah. Hey, am I t-too early?”

“Nope. Sharon was a little freaked-out and thought that I had a stalker,” he said with a grin. “Luckily I like stalkers when they’re hot as fu—uh—uhhhh. Fudge.”

“What’s fudge?” the kid asked.

“Never mind,” Sharon snapped, shooting Tucker a dark look.

He was unbothered, either because he couldn’t see her, or he didn’t give a shit. I was betting on the latter.

Tucker carefully removed his arm from the kid’s grasp and ruffled his hair. “See you next week, yeah? And work on those ankles. Later, Sharon.”

She said nothing, but Tucker didn’t miss a beat as he walked over to my car and touched the side. My heart swelled, and I forgot all about her as I got lost in his grin.

“You ready, babe?”

Babe? Oh, that was me.Iwas babe. I cleared my throat. “Yeah. I, uh…I threw together some lunch?”

“Here?”

“What? No. At the house.”

“Thank fuck, I’m so hungry.” He wrenched open the door and slid in, folding his cane and dropping it on the floor. He groaned as he stretched his feet, arching his back and shaking the car as I got back in. “Is she still standing there?”

I looked through the mirror again. “Yeah.”

“Lord, please have mercy on me,” he said, folding his hands into prayer. “She has been trying to climb on my dick since her kid started lessons.”

My neck went hot. “Oh. Um…did, uh…do you…?”

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