Page 116 of Thoroughly Pucked

“If we can bring Nacho,” Chase says, and now I’m picturing taking Aubrey and a dog we don’t even have out shopping. Great. Just great. I’m imagining future dogs with her now.

Ryker rolls his eyes at Chase. “Obviously. Dude loves bookstores.”

Chase turns to me, and for a second, I think he’s going to invite me along. I fucking hope he doesn’t. Not that I hate bookstores—I do not—but the last thing I want is to be a third wheel for their trio. Fourth wheel actually.

I make a preemptive move with, “I’ve got to…get some plant food.”

Chase shoots me a look like I’ve said the equivalent ofI need to rearrange my sock drawer. Which I suppose I have.

His brow knits. “Have fun…shopping for plant food?”

It comes out as a question because who the fuck says that? But as we reach the lot and Ryker breaks for his car, Chase motions that he’ll catch up with him, then pulls me aside.

“Hey,” he begins in the universal tone ofI’m about to give you some unsolicited advice.

I brace myself for what’s coming. Not sure I want advice. I probably can’t follow it.

“You seemed happier in Vancouver,” he continues, slinging my words back at me. A couple years ago,when he went through a rough patch with Trina, I said as much to him.

This situation with Aubrey isn’t the same. Back then, I told Chase to get Trina back no matter what.

That’s not a thing I can do with Aubrey. She set a boundary. I respect it. Still, I appreciate Chase’s gesture, so I give him a nod and say, “I was.”

“Maybe do something about that,” he adds.

I sigh heavily. “Not sure I can.”

He lifts a brow. “You sure about that?”

On that mic drop, he walks to his car. As I head to mine, I replay those words. Turn them over. Then inside out. Am I sure?

Come to think of it…I’m not.

Not at all.

I hop in my car and call Dev. “What are you doing?”

“Working out,” he says in between heavy breaths. Sounds like he’s on the elliptical at his gym.

“I’m coming by,” I say.

“Okay.”

Fifteen minutes later, I’m walking into the gym with a renewed sense of purpose. I march over to the cardio machine that he’s attacking with the ferocity of a man who’s as lonely as I am. I stop at it as he rips out his earbuds but keeps on running. “What’s up?”

“I can’t stop thinking we messed up.”

His eyes spark. “How? Tell me how? Because then we can fix it. I’ve been dying to fix it, but I have no idea how.”

“I think I do,” I say, and for the first time in a week, I feel a spark.

49

HAT DAY

Aubrey

It’s been over a week since I saw the guys but I’m doing my damnedest to live in the moment.

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