Page 105 of Three Pucking Words
I glare. “Don’t start.”
She sticks her tongue out at me.
I return the favor.
Mila drops down to Puck’s height and scratches his sides. “What do you think, Pucky Boy? Do you want a daddy?”
I swear he nods.
When my best friend looks up at me, we have matching smiles on our faces.
Because suddenly, I’m excited for whatever the future holds.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Bodhi
Coach Erikson iswriting something down on his yellow notepad when I knock on the door. He’d told me after practice that he wanted to see me, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why.
“Sir,” I greet, stepping in when he waves me forward. “I came as soon as I was done. I—”
“We don’t need to exchange pleasantries, Hoffman,” Coach tells me, pointing toward the chair with the end of his pen. “Sit. We need to talk.”
I pause, staring at him as he continues writing down notes and then I take a slow seat across from him. “If this is about Honor—”
He finally looks up with a neutral expression on his face. “My daughter is a grown woman who can make up her own mind on who she lets into her life. You’re a hell of an improvement over the last tool she was with.”
I take that as a high compliment. “Thank you. I’m inclined to agree after meeting him.”
He harrumphs. “Never did thank you for that. I can’t say I’m shocked Pheobe stooped as low as she did with Decker, but it’s a damn shame. Honor always deserved more than she got. From both her mother and I.”
I don’t agree or disagree. That seems a little too personal for me to weigh in on.
My silence has him sighing. “Look, I have no intention in stepping into whatever you and my daughter have going on. I don’t need to tell you to treat her right. I’m sure you already know that. I also don’t need to tell you that I’ll make your life hell if you hurt her.”
Lips twitching at his subtle warning, I give him a terse nod. “Of course. Youdefinitelydon’t need to say any of that.”
He dips his chin. “Good. Now onto what I really called you in here for.”
We both know he wanted to make his stance clear on Honor and me, but I let that go. “Shoot.”
He drops his pen and leans back in his chair with a serious look plastered on his face. “When were you going to tell me about your shoulder?”
Fuck. My shoulders tense, and it reminds me of the constant ache settled into the right one. “You talked to the team doctor,” I surmise.
His lips are pinned straight.
Double fuck. “This might surprise you, Hoffman, but I’m not a goddamn idiot. I can tell when you’re hurting, and you’ve been like that all season. The last game nearly took you out when Alliah slammed you into the boards. Pain was written all over your face. It’s been holding you back in practice since.”
I cringe at the callout. I thought I’d been hiding it well, but apparently I was wrong. “It’s not as bad as it—”
“Cut the shit, son” he cuts me off.
So, I do.
Coach lets out a brief sigh before leaning forward so his elbows rest on the edge of his deck. “I’ve got a friend—a good friend—who’s interested in starting his own team.”
I stare at him silently.
