Page 54 of Puck Sweat Love

My heart does the same when I see the message is from Tank.

Sorry for going dark for a while, baby. I’ve been wrestling with some heavy stuff, but you’ve been on my mind all day. Can we talk tomorrow? I could swing by the studio after the six o’clock class, maybe?

I stare at the message, heart racing as I try to read between the lines, to decipher what this means. Has he been wrestling with how to end things with me? Or just processing the shock of the shitty situation he’s ended up in through no fault of his own?

He called me “baby.” That’s a good sign, right?

Or he’s just gearing up to let you down easy…

My fingers hover over the screen, debating my response, but in the end, I decide I have to be true to myself, no matter what’s going on with the man I already love so much.Of course. I’ll see you then.I hit send, then add—Hang in there, Theodore. I meant what I said earlier, I believe in you.

Three dots appear, then disappear. Then appear again. Finally—Thank you. Good Night, Love. Sweet dreams.

I sigh, trying not to read into any of that either, as I set my phone on the nightstand and turn off the light, staring into the darkness. Mr. Sniffles shifts against me, his warm body a comfort, but my mind continues to race.

My heart aches with how much I already care for this complicated, wounded, man. With how much I wish I could shield him from the pain and disappointment of today. How desperately I want to be a safe harbor for him in this storm.

But I can’t force it.

Can’tmakehim let me in, or choose me if he thinks he needs to choose hockey.

I close my eyes, willing sleep to come, but knowing it probably won’t, not with current state of my rumbling, tumbling monkey mind.

But tomorrow will be here soon enough.

We’ll talk then, and I’ll know where we stand.

Until then, all I can do is breathe.

And hope this love we’ve been building is as precious to Tank as it’s quickly becoming to me…

CHAPTER 14

TANK

It’s day two of my second chance at the NHL, and I wake up with my jaw already clenched.

I barely slept. My mind was too busy spinning like a hamster on a wheel, replaying every garbage moment from yesterday’s shit show on my mental screen. From Coach Lauder’s announcement that the starting position was “especiallyup for grabs,” to Garcia’s smirk every time I had to share the ice with him, to the pitying glances from the other veteran players.

Not to mention rolling into yoga class late after taking too long to purge my demons with the punching bag in the weight room and pushing Steph away, when I knew she was only trying to help.

I’m not as shitty at accepting support as I used to be, but I’m still not great at letting my guard down. Not when I’m as worked up as I was yesterday. I know I must have hurt her feelings, taking so long to check in, which only adds to the weight on my shoulders.

Guilt gnaws at me as I drag myself out of bed and into the shower. This woman who’s been nothing but good to me, there for me, who’s given me more reason to feel hopeful in a fewweeks than most people have in my entire life, deserves better than that. A hell of a lot better.

Promising myself I’ll make it up to her somehow, make it right, I do my best to push my boyfriend failure aside and focus on the job ahead.

It’s time to put the past in the past and turn this shit around.

But that sure would be a lot easier without a certain shit turd rookie fucking with me every chance he gets…

I’ve barely set my gear bag down when Garcia chuckles from the opposite end of the long bench between the lockers. “Moving a little slow this morning, LiBassi.” His voice carries enough for the nearby players to hear, but not so loud that it might draw attention from the coaching staff prepping for the morning meeting on the other side of the room.

This kid is a pain in the ass, but he isn’t stupid.

“Late night?” he adds. “Or just feeling your age, old man?”

“I’m twenty-nine,” I say flatly, not bothering to glance his way.

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