Page 14 of Love Puck

The two of us together were dynamite.

How she couldn’t see that—I’d never know.

None of this I could tell him. I’d have to continue sucking it up and living with it.

“Jillian’s a great woman. She made her decision years ago.” I reminded him, and hoped he’d let it go.

But apparently it was Beau’s turn to chime in, “I like her, too. She’s like a sister to me.” His gaze dropped to the fire for a minute. He looked over at me and said, “But this whole situation is fucked up something awful. I swear, she cringes whenever that douche canoe is around. It makes zero sense. Anyone with eyes could tell how in love you guys were on the show.”

The knots in my stomach were pulled so tightly—they were about to rip right apart. Still, I couldn’t let them know that.

“She’s made her choice,” I reiterated again, saying as little as possible. The cameras were still around, and I was more than aware of that. The last thing I wanted to do was out myself—or our affair—on national television.

Trey spoke up next, “Well, she made the wrong choice.”

Beau nodded his head and ripped off a piece of beef jerky with his teeth. “Totally fuckin’ wrong choice.”

While their support was nice to have—rehashing all of this shit didn’t do much for me. Except fuck with my head even more than it already had.

After that, we didn’t talk for a while. We ate and chewed and sat.

It took some extra courage, but there was something I’d wanted to address. Something I’d been avoiding.

Finally, I turned to Beau. “We’ve got your back, too. You know that, right? On the ice, and off?”

He had a surprised—almost confused expression on his face. “I know,” he answered quickly then gazed off to the side for a minute. When he looked back at me, he asked, “Why did you mention that?” His tone was genuine—not mad or angry at all.

“Sometimes I feel like you’re—” I started, but Trey took over.

“Like you’re always looking over our shoulders, making sure we’re doing what we’re supposed to be doing.”

Beau’s jaw dropped, and he stared at Trey.

Then he gazed over at me. “Is that how you feel?”

I nodded. “Yeah. And I get it. I mean, you’re our captain and that’s your job. But we’re all highly qualified—and highly paid—to do our jobs. You need to let us do them. You also need to let us help you out when you need it.”

He opened another Mars bar and took a bite. “All right, what else? Let’s get it out in the open.”

And we did.

Fuck.

Did we ever.

It was probably the most brutally honest conversation I’d ever had with anyone in my life.

Some of it hurt.

Me.

Beau.

Trey.

But all of it was necessary to move on and improve.

Afterward, Trey let out a huge breath. “Jesus, all of this soul-searching is making me tired. I’m fucking exhausted.”

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