Page 29 of Puck Happens

Yeah, I was a dick, but I felt justified in this case. She could have just told me what was happening instead of bolting that night.

“Olivia Tyler-Branch.”

“Right. Coach Tyler-Branch is going to make us better, Novek. And if we get better we might win more often. Show of hands, who likes winning?”

The room put their hands up.

I moved to return the stage to Liv and saw she also had her hand raised high above her head. I lifted my eyebrow at her and fought my smile.

“Oh, you meant them,” she said, then slowly lowered her hand.

“Sorry for the interruption,” I said.

“Thank you. Now back to those numbers…”

She turned back to the white board, took a marker off the tray and started writing equations I didn’t give a shit about.

Liv was here. She was in this room. I knew her full name, and she wasn’t going anywhere.

It was time to get some answers.

* * *

Liv

“Excuse me,Coach Tyler-Branch, can I have a word? I want to get clarification on that force vs. angle equation you put up on the board.”

It was Dillon. Of course, it was Dillon. Did I think he’d just file out with the rest of the guys?

No. But I’d been hoping he would.

I set the marker back down on the tray, unwilling to turn around and face him just yet.

Earlier, standing out in the hallway, I’d only been half listening to the guys talk shit about me, because I’d been preparing myself to facehim.

Which made me want to scream. Biggest professional moment of my life after the accident and I was distracted by the cute boy I’d met this summer? The cute boy who’d lied to me?

Shame on me. I was tougher than that.

But when I finally saw him, sitting in the bottom corner of the room, all intense and shocked and handsome and big and familiar… my palms got sweaty and my heart pounded.

I was worse than a teenager.

Obviously, he waited until most everyone had cleared the room. There was no option but to turn around and face the music. Was he going to yell? Probably. Say something reasonable like that kiss meant nothing, and we had to be professionals now?

That’s what I’d been saying to myself the last three weeks.

“Cap, you coming?”

It was Cody O’Rourke. I’d already studied the entire team’s roster. He was a rookie on the team, fresh out of college, and the only one who looked like he understood the math I spent the last hour talking about.

“In a second,” Dillon said, without looking at the younger man waiting by the door. His eyes were on me and me only. “I need a math refresher.”

The door swung shut behind O’Rourke and it was just the two of us.

Staring at each other.

“Look, I know what you’re going to say,” I said, beating him to the point.

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