Page 24 of Wrong Pucking Player

“The new hockey teams have been finalized,” I announce like it isn’t a big a deal, even though I know this is huge for Strattonville.

A very big deal for both of them.

“Administration told the Saskatchewan Pincer Blades you’re going to be the assigned coach.”

“Really?” Dad looks surprised. “I didn’t think they would place me in charge of a team with Winchester leading.”

“Me, neither,” I acknowledge. “Which reminds me, Jayce is downstairs. Not sure if Mishka is gonna let him come up.”

I see the smirk on Coach Johnson’s lips while my dad is chuckling.

“We’ll head downstairs if we have to,” Dad assures me and uses his hand to gesture me to shoo away. “Go have your catch-up time with your girlfriend.”

“We’re not dating anymore!” Mackenzie reminds them as if we all forgot. “He’s my ex! EX. E.X— AH!”

I’m moving again while throwing Mackenzie up like she’s really a sack of sand I’m ready to run through the trenches with.

Only she’s light as a feather.

“I can beat your ass,” she emphasizes.

Like I don’t know that.

“One look at your ass, Mackenzie, tells me you can deadlift my weight and toss me out of a ring if you wanted to.”

My acknowledgment shuts her up, but for added measure, I slap her ass, which makes her squeak in surprise.

“Wyatt Cyrus,” she hisses. She knows the “adults” are in the other room and can hear us if we speak too loudly. “You don’t get to slap my ass anymore.”

“Not my property, huh?” I keep forgetting we’re not a thing anymore.

That’s the crazy part about us. The moment I’m in her orbit, it’s like all that time that passed between us ceased to exist.

We’re simply back to how it used to be.

Two young lovers, lost in one another, while the world kept moving and moving.

Until we had no choice but to go our separate ways.

Too many obstacles fighting to tear us apart.

The real regret I carry was not fighting back for what I want.

But can I fight the barriers that would rise up the moment we try again?

“Wyatt,” Mackenzie huffs. “You passed the living room.”

Did I? Oops.

“I know.”

No. I don’t know. I don’t know where the fuck my legs are taking me, actually.

I’m a robot in my own skin, desperate to reach my destination programmed in the depths of my mind.

“You know?” her voice is far too soft.

I know why.

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