Page 164 of Wrong Pucking Player

To unravel their identities.

But it’s there.

That sense of familiarity.

The real question nagging at my brain is where did those people come from?

The soft touch to my lips steals my attention away, enough that I manage to open my eyes enough to see Oscar’s sleepy face hovering above mine.

“You’re ignoring me,” he mumbles.

“You interrupted my dream,” I mutter, my voice still thick with sleep. I don’t even hesitate to turn so I’m hugging his chest and not lying on my back.

“It’s morning.”

“No.” I don’t want to get up yet.

“You have your internship, Andrews.”

I ignore him.

“Kenzie.”

I lean my head back enough to show him my sleepy face. My expression holds power because my grumpy goalie is giving up on fighting me.

“Only a few more minutes.”

I take that as an invitation to rest against him once more. This time around, I don’t fall asleep. I just listen to Armani’s heartbeat, and the calm rhythm against his chest eases the lingering worries I have regarding the dream.

The dream. The fact Wyatt and I aren’t a thing anymore. The reality I have to face by acting as though everything is okay.

“Talk to me, Andrews.”

Opening my eyes, I take a glimpse upward to see Armani staring down at me. I must have been so into my thoughts, I didn’t feel him shift into a sitting position with me resting against him. He’s shirtless, his hair tousled from sleep, but his eyes give me their utmost attention while he waits for me to answer him.

It should be okay to express what I’m worried about with Oscar, right?

Who else would I share it with?

Wyatt is no longer in my life, and it’s not like he’d listen to something like my weird dreams. I also don’t want to bother Mikayla, Leo, or Oliver, and I don’t know Katherine enough to share such personal things.

And then there’s Oscar.

“I’m anxious,” I admit. “Not just about the internship or what happened… with me and Wyatt. I don’t know.” I need an added second to think. “I had a dream… and the people were familiar but all masked. I was a child. Happy. Skating and spinning. Then there was a loud noise. Like… a gunshot maybe? I think that was due to Muffin knocking something down.”

“Knocking down my phone,” he mutters and reaches over to reveal the very broken screen.

I can’t help but cringe at the sight.

“Damn,” I whisper. “So… I still owe you a new screen?”

The corners of his lips lift ever so slightly, but he holds off a smile as he lowers his phone back on the nightstand. His seriousness is back, while his hand surprisingly plays with a few of my short locks.

“Do you remember a lot about our childhood?”

“Honestly, not really,” I admit. “I remember everything revolving around my aunt, but I guess that’s because I dislike her. She made it her mission to take advantage of me. She may not have gone crazy in physically abusing me with beatings and stuff, but she really played me on the emotional and financial abuse. When I think about it now, I’m really angry. Like a suppressed anger that’s finally saying, ‘what the fuck.’ I’ve been good at ignoring it for years, but recently, specifically since this internship started, I keep going back to it… and well…”

“It makes you want to explode and unleash all that anger you’ve kept tamed for years,” he concludes as his eyes never leave mine. “Right?”

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