Page 79 of Zero Pucks

No one stopped him as he left, but I felt terrible. He looked shattered, and I knew too well what it was like.

“Can I help with dishes?” I asked after a long moment of silence.

Tucker looked up and scoffed. “You may not. You can go put your feet up in the living room, or you can go get naked in my bed.”

I nearly choked on my tongue.

“Stop making him blush,” Ford ordered.

Tucker reached over and coasted a touch over my warm cheek. “He looks pretty this way.”

“I’m…going to go to the other room now,” I said, standing up. I was seconds away from popping a boner, and that was the last reason I wanted to be the center of attention here in a house full of irreverent hockey bros who had no problem calling them out when they saw them.

Luckily, no one stopped me. I wandered into the living room and paused when I saw a figure just outside the front window. It was obviously Boden. Instinct told me to stay where I was, but experience said that sometimes my instinct was total shit, and I wanted to do something for the person who had made me feel welcome, all while being entirely pissed off with his friend that I was sleeping with.

I opened the door a crack and saw him sitting on a swing bench perched on the lawn. “Can I join you?”

“Shouldn’t you be with Tucker right now?” Boden asked tightly.

“He’s doing dishes. But I can go.”

I started to turn, but Boden cleared his throat. “You can sit. I’m not normally such a gigantic asshole, and this isn’t how I wanted someone Tucker likes to be introduced to our home.”

I turned and walked slowly, easing down beside him. We were several inches apart, and I didn’t know if that was too close or too far. I hadn’t let myself look at Boden for too long since I’d met him. It seemed rude. But in that moment, I took him in.

I thought about what Tucker said—how he looked young because he was so small and constantly got shit for it. I knew what that was like, but I had a feeling it was different for Boden. He seemed so…angry all the time. I had no doubt the world was constantly refusing to believe in him.

“I’m sorry you got thrown out of the game.” I eventually said.

He laughed, rolling his eyes up toward the sky. “Don’t be. I was trying to get thrown out. I wanted to make him look like an incompetent coach—which would have worked if the guys had been on my side. But instead, I looked like an asshole having a tantrum.”

“Ah.” I didn’t want to say it, but luckily, he did.

“Which I guess is exactly what I was.”

I tried to hide my smile. “Mm. I wouldn’t have known. That was my first hockey game.”

“Ever?” he asked.

I nodded. “Sports was never my thing.”

“I haven’t met a virgin in a long, long time.”

My eyes widened. “I’m n-not a…I’m…well…”

“Sports virgin,” he clarified, putting me out of my misery. “I grew up surrounded by hockey. Even when I was with my mom, it was still there. People recognized her from time to time, and some of my dad’s old rivals dated her for a while.”

I grimaced. “That sounds like a lot.”

“It was.” He smiled, and it was far less of a grimace this time. Then silence fell for a bit.

“Why do you hate your coach?”

Boden bit his lip, glancing behind him through the window. There was no sign of Tucker or Ford. “Will you keep a secret from Tucker for a while?”

I didn’t want to, but I could sense Boden needed it. It was obvious he didn’t have a lot of people in his life who weren’t his circle of hockey friends. “I can do that.”

He didn’t look like he believed me entirely, which was fair. “Hugo was hired on a recommendation from my dad. And I fucking hate it. I hate that he’s still meddling in my life. I hate that he thinks he needs to help me when I didn’t ask for it.”

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