Page 41 of Thoroughly Pucked

Aubrey sighs, sounding a little relieved. “Thanks for understanding. I guess Aiden tricked a lot of people. I just wish I’d figured it out sooner.”

“Hey,” I say, sitting up straighter, leveling her with my gaze. “That’s just what some people do. That’s what some people are good at. Don’t beat yourself up.”

“It can take you a while to figure it out,” Ledger adds. “Took me a while with my ex.”

I give a nod of solidarity. “Same here. With mine.”

Aubrey leans closer, her gaze focused on Ledger, then me, like she wants to know both of us better. “What happened?”

She’s so curious, so earnest as she asks that I know I’ll tell her. I’m sure I’ll start to open up.

Guess I’m not such a good goalie when it comes to keeping her out.

19

IT’S A WHOLE THING

Aubrey

I latch onto Ledger’s last comment.It can take you a while to figure it out.

Like I did last night at the diner with Dev, I wonder again if Ledger’s speaking from experience. I don’t know much about Ledger’s marriage, only that it was short-lived and ended about a year ago. I’m gentle when I press, asking, “You feel like your ex-wife tricked you?”

I wouldn’t be shocked if Ledger shuts me down. He’s scrubbing a hand across his stubbled jaw, clearly working through something, then he says, “I don’t want to make this about me. I was just saying I get it.”

This poor man. He’s clearly got walls up. “I asked you. And guess what? Not everything has to be about me. Plus, you know all my stuff now.”

That’s not entirely true. But they know enough.

With a heavy exhale, Ledger gives in. “She cheated on me with her personal trainer. This guy Ben, who she begged me to hire for her. The best personal trainer in the city,” he bites out, sarcastic, but masking real hurt.

The sound I make, low in my throat, surprises me. It’s protective. Animalistic. Angry. “That’s awful,” I hiss.

“Especially since she was always saying I wasn’t available for her. I was hardly around. I was either at the arena, or on the road, or seeing the team trainer, or doing yoga. Or something. And she wanted to stay busy, she claimed. She stayed busy all right, screwing her trainer.”

The edge in his voice makes me want to march over to Marla’s place and give her a piece of my mind. “What really hurts is that you wanted to believe in her,” I say.

When Ledger looks up, there’s vulnerability in his blue eyes. “I did,” he says, then he’s quiet for several seconds. “But I’m fine,” Ledger says, resigned perhaps to his romance fate. “I haven’t had the best of luck with relationships. But that’s the past. I’m over it. The point is…”

He runs out of steam, then laughs, dragging a hand over the back of his neck. “I don’t fucking know what the point is.”

That must be Dev’s cue to jump back in. “The point is—relationships are hard, people get hurt, and thank fuck for hockey.”

In one sentence, that tells me multitudes about Dev. Despite his sunny attitude, he’s got his own baggage, too, and hockey is his salve. I don’t know much about Eva, his last girlfriend, except that he was involved withher at the start of the last season, maybe even the one before. Part of me wants to give him the space to offer up that story on his own, but I’ve learned in the last few years of running my booth at the salon that people often want to talk but few want to go first. Few want to “inconvenience” others with their emotions. Most of us want to be asked so we can either decline or open up.

“Did hockey get you through your breakup?” I ask him.

Dev seems to give it some thought, but the answer must come easily since he’s nodding sagely. “Yeah, it did. Especially since I thought everything was going well. But then, bam. It wasn’t and I just mainlined hockey after that.”

“She ambushed you, man,” Ledger says, his jaw ticking.

“And can you believe it, she did it right before Christmas too. Which is my second-favorite holiday.”

“What’s your first favorite holiday?” I hope he doesn’t say April Fool’s Day.

“National Grilled Cheese Day,” Dev says, eyes glinting like a cartoon character lusting after a leg of turkey. Yup, he’s back to light-hearted. “Whoever invented that deserves a prize.”

“You’re not wrong,” I say as I stay in this light zone with him, since that’s clearly where he wants to be. “But do you even eat cheese? Maybe, since it’s not a carb. But I’m doubtful.”

---