Page 41 of Pucking Strong

I wince, his words rubbing me like sandpaper. It’s less about the words. It’s their delivery. He’s hurt. Somehow, I’ve hurt him again. I didn’t even give him this damn ring, but still I hurt him. “Teddy, I’m sorry—”

“It’s fine.” He rises from the deck chair, unfolding his long legs. “I’m tired. Wanna show me this boat shed?”

I slip my mother’s wedding band on the smallest finger of my right hand and stand. “Fine, but you’ve been warned. It will be a tight fit.”

“Clearly, you’ve never shared a room with three sisters. Consider my expectations managed.”

I lead the way down the side of the dock and back over to the shed. The handle takes some rattling, and the bottom of the door requires a little nudge with my toe, but I get it open. I step in first, crossing the small room to set my bag on the bed.

Teddy follows me in but stops in the doorway. He blinks in the brighter light, taking in the wood paneling, the two simple chairs wedged by the door, and the black wood stove. The kitchenette is little more than a sink and a small refrigerator. But there’s a coffee maker on the counter, and Mom left us some fresh bread and apples.

Teddy’s gaze locks on the far wall of the shed. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

I glance around, looking for the source of his displeasure. “What’s wrong?”

He points. “There’s only one bed.”

I shrug. “I told you it was a tight fit.”

Groaning, he rubs two fingers at his temple. “Okay, you’re gonna have to stop saying the words ‘tight fit’ to me, like, yesterday.”

“What?”

“There’s only one bed, Henrik. A very small, practically twin-sized bed. If I’m on the bed, where are you gonna sleep? I don’t see a couch in here.” He does a half pivot, as if certain he must have missed part of the shed. He points to the door in the corner. “Where does that lead?”

I fight a smile. “That’s the toilet. Would you prefer one of us sleep in there? Perhaps we could flip for it.”

He glares at me. “Is this a joke to you?”

I drop into one of the chairs and start taking off my boots. “It’s just for one night. Have you never shared a bed before?”

He crosses his arms. “Yeah, of course. With mysisters. Not my—”

I glance up, boot in hand. “Your what?”

He holds my gaze, his eyes reflecting the bright flames of the fire. “Not with you.”

I tug my other boot off, dropping both by the door. “If it’s really a problem for you, I’ll just sleep on the floor.”

He huffs, tugging his sweatshirt off. “Seriously? You’re an NHL superstar who’s a week out from the start of a new season. We’re not messing up your joints or your alignment by making you sleep on a wooden fucking floor. You take the bed. I’ll just take a blanket and go sleep in the chair out on the dock.”

My own sweater muffles my groan as I strip it off. Freeing my arms, I toss the sweater onto the chair. “You’re not sleeping on the dock.”

He slips past me, heading for the bed. “Why not? I like nature.”

Taking my chance, I move to the door and lock it.

“Hey—”

I turn around, pressing my back against the locked door.

Teddy stands across the shed, the bed’s quilt bundled in his arms. “You can’t keep me trapped in here, you psycho.”

“I can, and I will.”

“Henrik—”

“You’re not sleeping on a goddamn deck chair, exposed to the elements. Not when we have a perfectly good bed, and a fire, and a door that locks.”

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