Page 32 of Puck Struck
I scoff. “I’m not spiraling.”
“You didn’t sleep. Again. And you haven’t said more than five words since you came home last night. That’s classic spiral behavior.”
I expel a sharp breath. “Nothing is wrong.”
“You lie worse than Ethan,” Tessa says, brushing past me to pour her own cup of coffee. “And he once told me he saw a unicorn at hockey camp, so... high bar.”
I let out a frustrated sigh. “Coach paired me with Foster. I’m his mentor, for drills, watching game film. We’re partnered for events and press conferences. Shit like that.”
Her brows lift, amused now. “Oh, yes. The golden boy.”
“He’s cocky,” I mutter. “Arrogant. Flashy. The media loves him. Walks into the room like he owns it. Coach says I need to help him…adjust.”
She studies me. “And?”
“And nothing.” I lean against the counter. “He’s a pain in the ass.”
“But?”
“But what?”
She sips her coffee like she has all the time in the world. “But you don’t hate him.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.” She walks over, pokes my chest with one finger. “You’re deflecting, by the way. Again.”
“The only people I have room in my life for are you and Ethan.”
She leans her head on my arm. “And that’s a sweet sentiment…if you’re eighty. But you’re not. You’re thirty-six. You’re lonely. And I’m not saying jump into anything, but maybe stop pushing people away before they even get close because you never know what can happen. You deserve to be happy.”
“I’m not pushing anyone away,” I say.
Tessa holds up her hands in surrender, but her smile is wicked. “I’m just saying. He’s got skill, swagger, and a smile that melts cameras. Reminds me of someone.”
“I am nothing like him.”
“No,” she says. “You’re not. But you used to be.”
Shit. She’s right. I was Cam Foster fourteen years ago. I was blazing through games, flashing that grin, shoulder unscarred, my dreams unbroken.
But that was before the injury. Before the accident. Before everything fell apart.
Tessa sighs. “Look, Lo. You’re an amazing brother and we love you so much. You’ve sacrificed everything for me and Ethan. But it can’t always be about us. Sometimes it has to be about you. When are you going to drop your walls and give someone else a chance to see how truly amazing you are?”
“I can’t afford to be selfish.”
“It’s not selfish to want something for yourself, Logan. Jesus. You spend your days breaking your body for a game that’s trying to spit you out, and your nights trying to hold together a family you didn’t ask for but chose anyway.” Her voice softens. “You’re allowed to want more than just survival.”
The words cut deeper than I expect. Maybe because a part of me does want more. Wants something, or someone, I’m not allowed to have.
Tyler lost his life in that accident, in a car I’d been driving. Sacrificing for my family is the least I can do for what I took away from them.
I check the time. “I’ve gotta go.”
“Go,” she says. “But stop pretending you're made of stone. You’re not.”
I grab my keys and head for the door, still feeling the weight of her stare behind me.
