Page 110 of Revenge Puck

“Well, um, good luck. Not just in tomorrow night’s game, but with the move and all.”

“Elle, I know it may be a long shot, but is there any way we could try to give this, us, another chance?”

Ah, there it is.

It should make me happier that he even bothered to ask. He can’t actually think that would work though, does he?

“I don’t know, Preston. Even if everything was good between us, California is so far away.”

“I’ll have time off during the summer before I have to go.”

I’m already shaking my head no. “I can’t. I don’t think it would be a good idea for us to spend more time together before you up and leave. It’s too much. And I don’t want to be a distraction. I know how important hockey is to you, for you to keep supporting Maya and Finley. If I messed that up again…”

“Elle, what happened in that game, it wasn’t your fault. I’m sorry I put the blame on you.”

“Well, you did, and you were right. So how about we just end on good terms as friends?”

“Friends?”

“That’s all I can offer you, Preston.”

His wide shoulders rise, then fall heavily. “Then, I’ll take it. I wish you would come to D.C. tomorrow for game six. It could be the last.”

“I know, but I can’t up and leave Audrey again with the salon. Thanks, though. And I do wish you luck. Lasting the entire game would even be a win in my book.”

“Thanks, Elle. It was…it was really good to see you.”

“It was good to see you too,” I tell him, giving him a small, sad, close-lipped smile.

For a moment, he just stands there, hesitating, like he wants to say something else. But he doesn’t. He turns around and walks out the door, out of my life for good.

I make it a good three seconds before the first sob escapes past my pursed lips.

39

Preston

It wasn’t all that hard to find Riley’s address. Of course he’s living it up in one of the most expensive penthouses in the center of the city, close to all the clubs and bars, within walking distance to the arena, and Elle’s salon.

The doorman, unfortunately for Riley, is just a little too trusting. He let me up when I told him I was a friend. Guess he doesn’t follow hockey headlines. All he told Riley on the intercom was that he was sending up a friend.

A friend.

It seems like forever ago when Riley was my best friend and roommate. For more than three years, he was the person I did everything with, spent nearly every second either just hanging in our apartment or on the ice. We had a stupid plan to go pro together, promising that we would both hold out until the same team agreed to draft us both.

And then everything went to hell when Maya came to the city as a freshman at NC State, wanting to be near her bigbrother for whatever reason. Maybe for the sense of safety and protection when all I did was mess up her life.

I take the elevator up, using the code to the penthouse that the too trusting doorman gave me.

When I step out onto the penthouse floor, Riley’s standing in his open doorway. He looks like shit thanks to the bruised cheek, busted lip and ear so swollen it sticks out from his thick head. All the injuries I inflicted on him last night and I still believe he deserved.

“So much for being a ‘friend’ coming up to visit,” Christian grumbles. “What the hell do you want? Why are you even still in town? Did you come here to murder me without any witnesses? You should know there are cameras in the elevator and hallways.” He points up to one in the upper corner of the hall.

“No murdering planned today. We need to talk.”

“Talk? You mean you’ll tell me I’m a piece of shit while beating the hell out of me some more until I can’t play tomorrow?”

“No. I just mean talk. I swear I won’t lay a finger on you.” I hold up both of my hands in surrender. For this conversation, I’ll keep that promise. It won’t be easy to resist throttling the asshole, but I won’t today. And if he hits me for keeping this from him, I won’t even hit him back. At least not for the first punch.

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