Page 59 of Absolutely Pucked
Something smacked my back, and I gasped in a huge lungful of air, coughing as I exhaled.
“Get his face off the ice!” The accent—that was Hugo.
Panic rushed through me. This was our first game back from Montreal, but also one of Boden’s last. At least, one of the last games we were going to play together. It was also Tucker’s last season with the Wolves.
I couldn’t lose this.
“I’m fine,” I wheezed. Now that I was getting air, everything felt a little better. The sled had knocked the air out of me, but my head wasn’t hurt.
“My ass,” Hugo started, but in my clearing vision, I could see Boden holding up a hand.
“He’s fine. He’s breathing.”
I was able to right my sled, grateful my face was off the frozen water beneath me. I shivered, then shook myhead and took a few more breaths. Everyone was staring. Wonderful.
“I’m pulling you for ten?—”
“Fuck that!” Boden and I cried at the same time.
“Fine. Six minutes,” Hugo said, his arms folded over his chest. It was obvious he would not be moved. My gaze found Boden’s, and I saw him soften, so I knew arguing wasn’t going to save me any more time off the bench.
Tucker skated up beside me and set a hand to the top of my back. “Come on, jackass.”
I flipped him off awkwardly with my gloved hand, then dug the spikes into the ice and pushed forward, following him to the bench. Six minutes was enough time to be able to climb out of my sled and sit my ass on the bench, stretching my leg. Breathing still wasn’t very easy, and the deeper the breath, the more it hurt.
There was a damn good chance I had a broken rib, but I wasn’t going to say anything until after the game.
“How bad is it?” Tucker asked, shifting his sled a little closer to me. He could fit easier. His sled was slender and low to the ground beyond his bucket since he didn’t need to make room for legs. He tucked the edge of his sled under the bench, then set a hand on my knee.
Talking to him was even harder now that I was admitting to myself that this thing with Killian wasn’t just sex. It was so much more.
I bit my tongue and looked away. The pain in my ribs was worse now. Fuck my whole life.
“Ford,” he growled.
I sighed. “I think I might have Bodie run me in foran X-ray when the game’s over.” Not that they could really do anything for a cracked rib, but the team would cover the cost of the visit, and I knew Hugo would kick my ass if I ignored a real injury.
He was getting ready to ask me to take the C, and I was both terrified and also feeling a little…excited wasn’t the word. The weight of responsibility was heavy, but something in me wanted it for the first time in my life.
I didn’t want to screw this up.
Everyone was leaving me, and I needed something to hold on to.
“What’s that face?” Tucker asked.
I shoved at him. “Nothing. You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. You can’t see shit.”
“I can see this.” He lifted his stick and tapped me on the chin just below my frown. “Also, I think you’re getting wrinkles.”
I gasped and fought off a cough from the pain. “How fuckingdareyou. I’m as fresh as a Georgia peach.”
He grinned and leaned against my leg. “Sure, bud. And my ass is as round as…I don’t know what else is round? Another Georgia peach? Do peaches grow anywhere else?”
“Everywhere. Why are we talking about peaches?” I complained. I glanced up at the clock. Two minutes to go, though I knew Hugo was going to drag it out until the next shift change.
Tucker grinned wider. “I’m just happy you’re feeling better. You’ve seemed a little…weird lately.”
Oh fuck. Oh fuck.
