Page 99 of Three Pucking Words
She shakes her head. “We just talked, Bodhi. For hours. And you know what? It felt more intimate than most of the things I did with my husband behind closed doors. I was open to a stranger because I had nothing to lose. I told you that I was going through a hard time, and you asked what it was. I vented about my dead-end job that I left shortly after our conversation because you told me I shouldn’t waste my life being miserable at a company who would replace me in two seconds. I told you thatmy personal life was falling apart, and you said you understood because yours was too.”
Something my gut comes to life, and my heart picks up.
“You told me that you just found out you were going to be a father,” she whispers, making me suck in a breath. “And that you didn’t know what to do, but you wanted to do the right thing.”
I sit up straighter and stare at her as something resurfaces to the front of mind. A pretty smile. Prettier eyes that aren’t fully brown but aren’t quite gold. A small hand reaching out over a scratched wooden table to cover mine.
“Hard to believe a pretty girl like you is here all alone,” I say, grinning at the brunette woman across from me.
Her hand twitches over mine. “I’m not alone.”
I suck in a quiet breath. “You,” I whisper, shaking my head in utter disbelief. “That was…” I blink, studying her. Her face. Her hair. Her body. “Your hair was brunette.”
Her lips twitch into a sad smile. “It always looks that way when it’s dark. The bar was dimly lit that night. I’m not surprised you thought that.” I don’t know what crosses her mind, but she winces. “I was a few pounds lighter back then too.”
She’s self-conscious, but that’s the last thing I want her to be. “You’re beautiful, Honor. You know that, right?”
It’s no secret that I like woman with curves. Unfortunately, it’s been a topic of conversation in the media one too many times. It hasn’t stopped me from getting a taste for other types of women, but they never held my attention long.
Not like Honor. Her hold on me is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.
“I know I’m not ugly,” she replies, voice barely a whisper.
I nod. “Good.”
“You still forgot,” she tells me, curling her legs up to her chest and resting her chin on her knees. There’s hurt in her tone. In her eyes.
Hurt that I caused unknowingly.
Unwittingly.
I close my eyes and stifle a sigh. “Not all of it.” There’s a lump in my throat that barely moves as I swallow. “The boys tracked my location there. I’d strayed one too many times at away games, so Henderson always made me keep my location on so he could fetch me. Apparently, I kept telling them I had to say goodbye to the girl before they dragged me out.”
When I open my eyes, she’s staring at me in surprise. “I had gone to the bathroom because I found you played for my father. When I got back to the table to talk to you about it, you were gone. No note. Nothing. Not that I expected one, of course. You didn’t owe me anything. I just thought…” Her shoulders lift.
She thought I ditched her. “I’m sorry. For not remembering sooner. For not saying goodbye. The boys didn’t give me much of a choice from what little I do remember. Mendell told me I reeked, and they shoved me into a cold shower the second we got back to the hotel. They said if Coach found out, he’d bench me. I almost missed a flight once because I slept past all of my alarms the next day. It’s why they usually make us bunk with teammates when we travel, to keep us accountable. Since I stopped drinking, they’ve given me some of my freedom back.”
Which is why I could walk out of my room during our away game in Seattle and spend time in hers with no questions asked. My teammates could trust me. So could Coach. Although, I’m not sure he would feel the same if he knew I’d spent the night in his daughter’s room.
Her hands rub down her face. “You don’t owe me an apology, Bodhi. The only reason I’m telling you this is because I would feel guilty if I held it back. It’s petty of me to be upset over anything that happened in the past. We didn’t know each other. And when I found out you were in the city for hockey, for my father’s team no less, I couldn’t believe it. Out of anybody Icould have met that night, it had to beyou. It had to be the person who I would spend the next handful of years crushing on. Someone that I thought I’d never see again. I told myself it was harmless so many times. I told myself it only meant something because I wasn’t sure if my marriage was going to last. That at least I had one night with a stranger to make me feel desired and important.”
Every word soaks into me, drowning my chest cavity and making it hard to breathe. I hear everything she says. Every syllable. Every sentence. Every breath she takes between the words. I hear it all.
And I can tell that she feels shame.
Guilt.
Embarrassment.
“I talked about you,” I tell her, hoping to ease some of those feelings. “The team would hound me about the mystery girl from the bar that I wouldn’t shut up about. Pretty sure they thought I made her up in my drunken state. Hell, I even started believing I made you up. But they also thanked you, or the idea of you, for helping me realize what a shit show I was. How I needed to stop being that person if I was going to be a good father for Gemma. A good co-parent for Inez. A goodpersonthat people could depend on. So, I stopped drinking like I did. I stopped going to parties. I tried getting serious about spending time with Gemma, to prove to Inez I could handle it. I knew there was a girl, Honor. In the back of my head, I knew that she meant something to me. But I had no fucking idea she was you.”
Her eyes close, and my heart cracks when I see a single tear roll down her cheek.
I stand and come over to her, getting a strange sense of déjà vu as I kneel in the personal space between her and Puck. “I didn’t mean to make you cry, honey.”
“It’s not…” Her voice cracks. “This is a lot, Bodhi. I don’t even know why I’m crying. I’m not sad. I’m not mad. I just never thought this day would come. I never thought I’d see you again. I never thought I wouldfeelthis way. It terrifies me to like you as much as I do. I like you beyond words. I’ve liked you since you spilled your guts to me in the bar that night in Chicago. I liked you more than I liked my own husband at the time. That’s a horrible thing to admit, but it’s the truth.”
I swipe the pad of my thumb against her damp cheek. “To be fair, it doesn’t seem like that’s a hard task to accomplish. No offense, Honor, but your ex is a fucking twat.”
