Page 49 of Puck Around and Find Out

“Are you all right?” I asked the question in an easygoing manner, but I knew he could see right through me.

He snorted. “Why do you care?”

I exhaled loudly. “Because, believe it or not, I don’t hate you. Maybe I’m worried about your dick because I want to use it again.”

He glanced at me in surprise, then laughed. “You’re an idiot, Birdy.” He lowered the window and spit his gum out, and I wanted to tell him not to do that, but it was already done.

“Come on,my world, tell me what’s going on. Is this about your dad again? Because he suggested you listen to the doctor, too. Or should I start calling youAt Lastagain?” I sent him a mischievous grin, and his laughter grew louder.

“Fuck you.” He shoved my shoulder.

“Yes, please. But not right now, sweetie, I’m driving.” I made a show of licking my lips and gave him a slow once-over, but the moment was broken when someone honked their horn at me because I was taking too long to go when the light turned green.

He laughed harder, and the vibration andrealnesssent a shiver down my spine. After a few moments, silence reigned again, and he settled back in his seat. He closed his eyes, and the only noise was the soft crooning from the radio.

The city buildings bled into neighborhoods with big houses as we got closer to the lake, and the tension in Atlas began to grow, as though he knew he would have to talk soon and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to do it.

“Did you know my dad used to play hockey?”

I hadn’t expected him to talk until we got to the lake. I blinked, not exactly surprised by the info. Only a man with previous experience in the sport had Joseph’s enthusiasm. “I assumed.”

He grunted. “Dad was gonna be the next big thing. Teams were ready to throw everything at him.” He turned to stare out the window, and I couldn’t see his expression, which I hated. “Grandpa was a lot like Dad is now. He pushed and pushed Dad to succeed. Even when I was a kid, Grandpa was twice as bad as Dad. He told me to keep going. If you got injured, you got up and went to do your job. Harden up. Hockey players needed to be made of stone is what he told me when I was five.”

I swallowed and gripped the steering wheel tighter. I turned the car down a narrow street, which led to a less popular part of Lake Ontario where we could have privacy.

“Dad never talked about his hockey days, but Grandpa did. He was never shy to tell me how disappointed he was in Dad.” His hand curled into a fist on his knee. “Apparently, Dad got hurt. He missedone gameand after that, everything went downhill. His skating, his scoring, everything. It took one game, and he’d gone from a shoo-in for the local pro team to one of the worst players.” He inhaled deeply. “And then Grandpa died when I was nine, but Dad carried on the shitty tradition. I get to hear Grandpa’s words fly out of his mouth. One game is all it takes, Atlas. Don’t be a failure, Atlas. Don’t be apussy.”

“So, basically your grandpa was an asshole, too,” I said dryly. I found a spot for the car in the lot at the park and drove into it before turning off the ignition. The Bentley powered down and it was quiet in the cab. I switched off the radio and turned to him. “Man, just because that happened to your dad doesn’t mean it’ll be the same for you. I can’t tell you why your dad’s performance got worse after missing one game, but yours won’t.”

He shrugged. “I’m not taking the risk.”

I nudged him on the shoulder. “Come on, Atlas, that’s stupid. Like, I know we’re a superstitious bunch, but that’s too far for me. Did you ask your dad what happened?”

He threw me a dirty look. “This is my dad we’re talking about. As far as he’s concerned, it never happened. He won’t tell me jack shit.”

“Okay.” I held up my palms. “I think it’s stupid. You can’t risk your health because of something that happened to your dad however long ago. Come on, man. It’s more likely for you to hurt yourself more by playing than not.”

He glanced away from me and stared out the windshield. The lake was calm today and with the weird heat, there were more people wading than usual.

I sighed and reached over to slide my hand against his. He turned his palm to meet mine, and I interlocked our fingers, holding on tightly. The sensation of his skin against mine had my stomach warming, and I couldn’t help the butterflies that exploded in my chest. The feelings were new, and I enjoyed them.

“I know you hate me—”

“I don’t hate you,” he interrupted, squeezing my hand. He winced. “I never hated you... exactly, I just didn’t like you.”

“You like me now?” I teased, poking the tip of my tongue out between my lips.

He stared at my mouth and grinned. “You’re okay, Birdy. There’s still things about you that piss me off.”

“Is it my good looks?” I kissed his shoulder through his shirt, and his eyebrows furrowed.

“Your cocky attitude.”

I snickered, and his grin went wider. “Cock.”

He shook his head. “You’re such a fucking kid.”

“I know you are, but what am I?”

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