Page 18 of Puck You Very Much
“Huh?”
“I said no, Zane. I’m sure you’ve heard that word many times, and on many dates.”
“Wait, I take the time to approach you in good faith, I admit to being wrong, and stick my hand out to go, and this is how you repay me?”
“Pretty much.”
His eyes widened, like he wanted to freak but had to bite his tongue. The look was priceless, one I would treasure until my dying hour. That was the benefit of holding all the cards.
By that point, we’d reached my car, but the idiot blocked the driver’s side door. And he stood there for a moment, like he had no idea he was doing it. Being a Remington Riptide meant he was naturally thick, which I already knew, but I didn’t need to deal with away from hockey.
So, I flitted my fingers to shoo him away and he finally moved.
I opened the car door and hopped in as quickly as possible. When I tried to shut the door, Zane grabbed it before it closed.
Of course.
“Are you going so soon?” he asked.
“I think so, yeah.”
I can’t get out of here soon enough, actually, I thought to say but wouldn’t further the conversation for all the hockey pucks in Toronto.
My hand settled over the gear shift and then saw Zane’s hands on my window. God, he would probably leave smudges, too.
“You know where to find me if you change your mind,” I heard him say through the glass.
I shifted the car into drive and eased my foot off the brake, making the Riptide step back.
When I drove away, I glanced into the mirror and noticed Zane grow smaller, still watching me.
9
ZANE
You know what drives me nuts about Jakob Martin? Like, aside from basically everything? The fact that he wouldn’t take me at my word drove me ape shit. Maybe I should’ve expected as much since he was the one to practically drive his fist through my face. I still considered him a lightweight, but he came on heavy at the bar. That I’d challenged him to a fight in a candy store couldn’t have helped, I guess.
But I’d also extended an olive branch. Humility comes at a premium in my world, and I had to swallow a ton of pride to stick my hand out for him to shake. If you ask me, his refusal to accept my very thoughtful truce offer said more about him than it did me.
Yet Jakob lingered in my mind. That’d never happened to me before. I’d had some on-ice enemies dating back to my high school days, but thoughts about them never haunted me away from the ice, one way or another. I sure as hell didn’t pursue them outside of hockey. Also different was that I experienced such an odd mix of emotions about Jakob. Not just anger and hate, but something more existed, something massive actually, but I couldn’t name it.
If I told Jax Echlin about it, he would say I was losing my mind. I hated to think of what the rest of my teammates would say. It didn’t stop at just thinking about Jakob Martin constantly. Weird things started happening to me. What do I mean by weird? Well, you’ll see.
Here’s something really odd: I started seeing him places, like locations around Buffalo other than Parkside Candy and Spot Coffee. I thought I saw him in the Dairy aisle at Wegman’s before realizing I’d found a regular customer who bore only a vague resemblance to Jakob. Ditto for standing in line to buy a slice at La Nova Pizza.
On a Thursday afternoon, I experienced another Jakob sighting that probably wasn’t the Larkin Lion at all, this time at Planet Fitness. I’d never seen him there before, which cast doubts on whether or not that really was him.
At first, I only saw him from the corner of my eye as I grunted my way through dumbbell curls. Actually, I’d been looking into the mirror, teeth clenched, and watching my pecs and biceps strain with exertion. Then I spotted him, also by himself, loading plates onto a barbell.
Then I dropped the dumbbells and they came within a hair of landing on my feet. Thank God he seemed not to see that as he laid down on the bench and positioned himself under the barbell. Wise-asses like him could have a field day with that.
I didn’t bother returning the dumbbells to the rack, hurrying over to Jakob. I stood over him as the barbell rose and fell over his chest. His face had turned a light shade of red, his eyes squeezed shut, but I saw his dimples.
God, did I ever.
That stopped me cold. Thinking about his dimples (or any bodily feature) again meant it wasn’t a coincidence. I still hadn’t figured out why I would entertain those thoughts. They popped up and I couldn’t control them one way or another. I lookedagain, as if drinking up the sight. Again, it exceeded my own understanding. I only went with what felt right in the moment.
When his eyes opened, he saw me towering over him. His hands trembled and he nearly lost control of the barbell. I reached down with both arms and helped pull the weight off of his chest.
